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#this post brought to you by seeing a photo of some sort of dessert that was just covered all to hell in passionfruit seeds
vaynglories · 5 months
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do people actually enjoy eating passionfruit seeds. like is that a part of the appeal somehow or is it just something to suffer through in order to enjoy the other redeeming features of the passionfruit (whatever those are). i mean it's mostly just seeds in there so presumably there's gotta be Something?
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deerabigailhobbs · 5 months
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Greetings and salutations good friend; I bring offerings of Adamgail-siblings thoughts!
So I was thinking about Adam going 'fuck this' and bringing Abby back home with him. Does he still live in the same shitty place, or has a boost in the popularity of his photos following his post-trap fame given him enough money to get a better place? Do they bring any of the Hobbs House furniture with them? Orrrrrrrrrr does he live with Lawrence, coming home after being missing for a week with no warning like "Honey I'm home, and guess what I brought back: your future sister-in-law!"
Whatever the case, we see a drastic change in the type of clothes Abby wears after episode one. Going from floaty more casual clothing, to a more compressed(i can't think of a better word) look. So what if after moving in with Adam, she starts to wear a more grungy look; quite a few people dress aggressively to warn away people, so maybe Abby could go for that to get randos to stay back to keep herself safe.
Her and Adam could maybe have a siblings bonding moment of Adam giving her a (probably not great) haircut and dye-job in the bathroom to make her look less like the pictures in the paper!
I like to think of the idea of a while down the line Abby meeting Danny from Saw 2 at a 'Teens who nearly got serial-killed support group' or maybe Adam met Danny at a survivors group and Danny stuck to him because 'wow this guy knows Scott Tibbs lead singer of Wrath of the Gods (the band on his t-shirt)' or at some point Adam was like 'hey I have a sister your age I think you two could be good friends'. or something.
Anyway, the end result would be the two meeting and becoming friends, perhaps bonding over their trauma a little bit. And then mayyyybe joining forces to create an angsty teen band where they sing songs about the fucked up things that happened to them!
Hope you're having a good day!
Hello! Very happy to see you in my inbox again friend! I'm a little sick right now, but happy to ramble about the siblings :D
I LOVE the idea of Abigail, Adam and Lawrence living together. I really think Lawrence would be fond of Abigail. Although Adam wouldn't say exactly why Abigail had come to live with them, he'd know the situation back home is dire. I can imagine him getting the house all ready for their return , asking Adam beforehand what Abigail's interests are. So when Abigail arrives she's greeted with a small bedroom full of art supplies, and a window facing the park nearby the house, which he delightfully explains to Abigail had all sorts of critters roaming around day and night. I'm sure this would not only warm Abigail's heart, but Adam's too. Knowing that his partner would care so much about someone so close to him would make Adam want to propose that very moment.
I like to think when Diana visits, her and Abigail would get on well. Abigail would finally know what it's like to be an older sibling figure. I can imagine her helping Diana with her homework or making food for themselves when Adam and Lawrence decide to go on a date night, which would consist of homemade pizza and ice-cream for dessert.
(now I've got a really cute image of Adam and Lawrence coming back home to a sleeping Abigail and Diana, snuggled up against the couch while The Little Mermaid credits roll <3)
Funnily enough, I'm planning on writing a part of my fic where Adam cuts Abigail's hair, but dyeing it is also a nice thought! I'm sure Abigail would be quite hesitant to trust her brother with scissors and hair dye, but surprisingly he knows his way around a head of hair. And paired with some new clothes Lawrence had bought her (no matter how hard she insisted she didn't need them), consisting of flowy skirts, loose tops, cardigans and jumpers/sweaters for the winter months, she'd really start feeling like her own person, not who someone wanted her to be.
I also love the idea of Abigail and Daniel (Danny) being friends! Especially since the only person we see Abigail interact with her age is Marrisa and her dad's victims. He'd think she'd like so cool with her platinum blonde hair (thinking of that one picture of Kacey rn) and they'd hit it off!!! In my opinion, if they were to start a band, I think Abigail wouldn't want to be front and centre, so I can imagine her taking up the drums, hidden away from everyone yet still soaking up the atmosphere. And of course for their first gig Adam insists on taking pictures for free (much to the jealousy of Scott) and he'd be so proud of her!
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addierose444 · 2 years
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Spring Break 2023
In past years I’ve simply gone home for spring break (or in the case of spring 2021, not even had a spring break). This year, some friends and I decided to visit Philadelphia for the week which was a lot of fun. While I did miss out on getting home-cooked meals, I did eat very well on my trip! I, unfortunately, only took photos on Thursday, so sorry that this post is so text heavy! 
Monday:
To kick off our trip, we boarded an Amtrak train in Northampton at 8:00 a.m. I’m not a morning person and was perhaps too excited about the trip and stressed about missing the train so I hadn’t slept much the night prior. Thus, I tried my best to get some rest on the train. Upon arriving in New Haven, we transferred to a second train that brought us to Philadelphia. We next walked to a cafe for a late lunch/afternoon snack. As I’d already eaten a bagel and thought dinner would be soon, I didn’t actually get anything. It was a bit rainy, we decided to take the subway to our lodging. The most economical option we found was something called a Sonder which is basically an affordable short-term apartment of sorts. 
We’d decided ahead of time that we would be getting hot pot on the first night. We’d planned on going to Chubby Cattle, but upon arriving learned that they were having some sort of all-you-can-eat special that was going to cost us each $41 (pre-tax and tip). This price stressed me out especially considering that it would be my first hot pot experience, so we looked for some alternatives. We ultimately decided on Happy Lamb (which had also been recommended). This place was also all-you-can-eat but significantly more affordable. For the soup bases, we got the original marrow and the tomato broths. For meat, we got two kinds of beef (and a lamb which I avoided). From the self-serve area, I started off with a plate of egg-fried rice and pork dumplings. For my hot pot, I got three types of noodles (udon, ramen, and another type). I also got some ginger ale. While it was initially a bit stressful, I did wind up really enjoying the hotpot experience. The ramen noodles and tomato broth combo with beef were particularly good. We were determined to eat everything because we knew that we’d get charged more for not finishing. 
For dessert, we went to A La Mousse which has some very cute animal-shaped cakes. I’d initially planned on maybe getting the coffee cream cake but ultimately didn’t order anything as I was sufficiently full and don’t have the same sweet tooth as the rest of the group.
Tuesday:
To kick off our first full day we went to Federal Donuts where I got an old-fashioned chocolate cake donut. Of the food I ate during the trip, the donut was probably my least favorite. I would consider going back though as they also serve fried chicken. We next explored Reading Terminal Market where I got a ham crepe from Profi’s Creperie. Next, we went to a cool interactive science museum called The Franklin Institute. It was a very windy day so the walk there wasn’t the most fun, but that’s also why we made it a museum day. At the museum, we visited the Your Brain exhibit, SportsZone, Sir Isaac's Loft, Amazing Machine, and the gift shop. We could have perhaps used a bit more time to see more of the exhibits, but really enjoyed the parts we did make it to. For dinner, we went to Pho Cali. As a starter, we got the pork summer rolls. I’d only had vegetarian ones in the past and have to say that the pork was an awesome addition! For my main meal, I ordered chicken pho. For dessert, we went to Mango Mango Desserts where I ordered a delicious mango-strawberry smoothie. 
Wednesday:
My primary lunch on Wednesday was my leftover pho. I also got a cheese quesadilla from Ticos Tacos Tex Mex. After lunch, we stopped at another A La Mousse location for boba, but I didn’t get anything this time either. Next, we walked back to Chinatown for more exploring and shopping. We’d initially planned on going to Giorgio on Pine for a nice pasta dinner; however, by the evening we were all feeling a bit tired and decided to cancel our reservation. We thus pivoted to ordering takeout from DaMò Pasta Lab through Uber Eats. (I picked up our food though so we didn’t have to pay for delivery. We also got really lucky with some sort of promotion that saved us $10 on our already affordable dinner). I ordered their gnocchi alla sorrentina. I found the gnocchi to be a bit overcooked but really enjoyed the sauce. I also ate leftover sauce from the mezze maniche all’amatriciana which was also very tasty. Overall, changing our plans was all around a great decision as we needed the break and saved a lot of money in the process. For dessert, we picked up cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. I’m always a bit skeptical about chain restaurants but really loved my key lime cheesecake. 
Thursday:
We had beautiful weather on Thursday which made it a great day to visit Cherry Street Pier. 
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En route to the pier, we also stopped at a used bookstore to meet a cat named Dr. Pickles. We also walked through some of the more historic/touristy parts of the city. While not a top priority for me, for lunch we decided to get cheesesteaks at Sonny's Famous Steaks. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by my cheesesteak with blue cheese and was glad to have tried it. Our afternoon activity was visiting Philadelphia's Magic Gardens which has cool outdoor mosaics. 
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For dinner, we picked up bahn mi from Ba Le Bakery. I specifically ordered the one with crispy pork belly. One note about this place is that they charge a 2.5% fee for using a credit card, so be sure to bring cash (or use a credit card that earns at least that on dining purchases)! As Ba Le doesn’t have any seating, we paired it with Hale & True Cidery which has snacks but is otherwise bring your own food. For the full experience, I ordered their cider flight which also enabled my friends to try cider for the first time. They ultimately opted for cocktails and I ordered the Goldberry cider which is fermented with strawberry and finished with lemon. Overall, I loved the ambiance at the cidery and had fun playing Uno and Superfight.
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Friday:
On our final day, we checked out of the Sonder at 11 and walked towards the train station. For lunch and to get some work done, we went to a cafe called Top Hat Coffee Lounge. I ordered the berrylicious smoothie and a plain bagel with cream cheese. Around 3 we returned to the train station to board a train to New York City. Upon arriving in NYC, we picked up dinner from Jollibee that we’d pre-ordered. I’d wanted to try their fried chicken sandwich, but it was unavailable for preorder so I ordered the chicken tenders and mac and cheese instead. Our train ended up leaving NYC half an hour late due to some sort of police activity. We were very nervous about missing our next train between New Haven and Northampton (as there was only a ten-minute layover), but we were extremely fortunate that the other train waited for us. It was a long and exhausting day of traveling and I didn’t make it back to Washburn until about 11:30. 
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theretirementstory · 2 years
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So here we are, the 18th day of December, it’s currently -3c, a vast improvement on yesterday and today a high of 6c should be achieved! I am keeping my fingers crossed for that, as I am growing tired of the “Heidi” look and appearing like some ailing relative propped up in a chair with pillows and blankets aplenty 😂.
As the UK and large parts of Europe have been gripped with snow, ice and freezing temperatures, I have chosen a poem, which I think, encapsulates all of that. An excerpt from a poem by Thomas Hardy.
The Darkling Thrush
I leant upon a coppice gate,
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The photo was taken when I was on my way to Chaumont, the fields were covered in heavy frost and the trees at the roadside had sparkling white branches. I should have been in a troika, it was very much a “Dr Zhivago” scene 😂.
Due to the weather, I have had to forego a couple of Xmas concerts this week, which I am sad about. In Fontaine, it has also been the Christmas village, selling lots of goodies for the big day. I was going to try to get down but the minus temperatures put me off. However, it is open again on the 22nd and 23rd so maybe I will be able to visit then.
It is not particularly Christmassy in my house, I haven’t made a cake, stuffed any dates or made any peppermint creams, my heart is too busy dealing with other things although I did give myself a talking to this morning and said “ the stuffing of dates, making peppermint creams, baking a lovely pain d’épices is not just for you to feast on! You could still make them and give them as gifts.” So perhaps that is what I will do.
Monique called down to see me, which was really lovely as I hadn’t seen her since her birthday in August. She brought me a rather lovely floral display, with a hyacinth and some other plant which she said gets little white flowers. I had taken mince pies out of the freezer (yes I made them ages ago), she was intrigued by them and was really happy with the taste too. It does make me laugh how so many friends are intrigued by “glacé icing” which I had put on top of the open mince pies.
I have been suffering with my back ever since something went “ping “ when I was helping “decheterie man” get the rise and recline chair out of the car. I tried walking to ease the pain but found that the following day I was in more pain and ceased up, so I tried resting which gave the same result. Now I am at the point where I think I will just do as I normally do and see if that helps any.
I am getting about one Xmas card a day into my letter box, I know that there are problems with strikes in the UK. I posted all of my cards on the 1st December and a lot of people have received them but “The Daddy” has still not received the little parcel I sent containing a couple of paperback books for the grandchildren and the Christmas cards. He has received a card to say there is a parcel at the sorting office so maybe, just maybe, it is my parcel!
I had an email from my Bristol friends, Peter had had an operation on his finger back in November and he developed an infection in the wound. Then as luck would have it, they both contracted Covid! Not very pleasant at all. I must message to see if they are feeling any better.
I had planned my Xmas meal quite a few weeks ago, it is a toss up between mackerel pate salad for starters or pear, Roquefort and walnut salad. It is filet mignon for main and I think it will be a small raspberry and pomegranate cheesecake for dessert. I got my friend to ask at the hospital, if drinking one 75cl bottle of wine over the weekend was acceptable, I then have 4 days without any alcohol. The nurse(?) looked mortified and said that was way too much….. Holy smoke what am I going to do with those bottles of champagne in the garage?? Not to mention the port, whisky, pastis and vodka I have 😩.
I paid a visit to the dentist, for him to investigate “the tooth that is now minus its back”. He is going to put a porcelain crown on it and has suggested he make me a resin guard to wear at night so that when grinding or clenching my teeth I do not damage the new crown. He gave me the estimate for the work and said I needed to send it to my mutuelle. I called into the insurance office and the lady said the mutuelle would pay 100% of their portion. I need this in writing (apparently) so asked her to send the estimate to the mutuelle. I am now waiting to hear from them. The next dentist appointment is 17 January.
The problem I had with the cancellation of my health card, waiting months for it to be reinstated, meant that I had to reclaim the money I have spent on blood tests, X-rays, CT scan, consultations etc etc. I also changed my mutuelle midway through 😳. The reimbursements are dribbling through from CPAM but so far no reimbursements have been made from the old mutuelle. Is it because of Christmas? Or do these places deliberately “drag their feet?” When I was informed of the reinstatement of my card I was told that they could not send me a copy of the S1. I had had one previously which I carried with me to the UK in case I needed any treatment. I rang NHS line in Newcastle and she said she would issue a form to me, but that they suggest you take out private travel insurance. I do that anyway, but even though UK pay my pension, my healthcare in France, provide me with the EHIC/GHIC card am I now in a wilderness when it comes to hospital care if I fall ill in the UK (if I didn’t have travel insurance?). Who knows? What I do know is that since all the hullabaloo when I was going to the UK in 2018, I have always paid for travel insurance.
It has been “Christmas Party nights” for “The Daddy” (Friday) and “The Paralegal” (Saturday), it appears a good time was had by all.
I received a video of my gorgeous grandson walking around in the crunchy snow in the garden, then my gorgeous granddaughter was telling me how wonderful her Mummy’s homemade spaghetti bolognaise was. They are growing up so quickly, my grandson is 19 months but looks so grown up.
So now I will leave you, I need to do a few jobs before I sit down to my lunch. Météo tells me it is 0c and although I only have one window uncovered I can feel the cold through that one window.
Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine.
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push and pulls | ot7
↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | headcannon (paragraph form) ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀs: “cat and dog relationship with classmate!enhypen ? hehe headcannon or any format that you're comfy with :3  they could be highschool sweethearts in the end too 😭” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:
i tried i'm sorry if this sucks 🤧
jake and jay’s are are like semi-suggestive (i think?) imma just say that they are semi-suggestive to be safe
i aint gonna lie i’m a sucker for Jay cooking 😪
jake & hoon’s are kinda short bc it’s like 1 am rn 
Heeseung
Heeseung has always been good at everything no matter what it is. It isn’t to discredit any of his effort whatsoever, but as the school year continues everyone knows that things are just natural for Heeseung. Ever since your freshman year of high school, you’ve seen him as your main competition for 1st place in school. The problem? This man isn’t even aware of it. To you, he just breathes and wins the competitions, gets all the attention, and is at the top of everything. To him, it’s the only way you’ll even notice him. The competitions? It gives him a chance to stay after school to be with you. The attention? He’s only focused on yours. Him at the top of everything? Well, that one’s just because he’s Lee Heeseung. It’s after school one day and the both of you have stayed to help clean up the classes for extra credit. Like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances, his eyes drift to you whenever you don’t notice. Except for this one time.
“Stop looking at me!” you say, your eyes glaring at him. He’s taken aback as he never meant to offend you.
“Sorry,” he said, thinking that you’d just leave it at that. But instead,
“I know you’re fricking judging me Lee Heeseung.”
“What?”
“I can feel it in your eyes. I’ll always be second to you and I get it, you don’t need to rub it in, so just stop!” You throw the rag at the window, walking out of the classroom and he’s left alone wondering what the hell just happened. And suddenly the gap between first place and second begins to grow. To him, staying after school to study for competitions are no longer fun when you won’t even tell him to be quiet when he starts to sing. Your attention is gone just like his sanity. Being at the top never felt so lonely when you weren’t next to him. To you, staying after school becomes something you dread because of the silence in the room that you caused. Your attention seems as if it’s on everything but him but every day you have a hundred thoughts and all of them are infected with him. The two of you enter yet another school competition, making it to the top 3. Yet, unlike previous times, neither of you is in first place.
“In first place, we have Sim Jaeyun!” the announcer says. You and Heeseung look at each other in shock that the other wasn’t on the podium. Yet, you couldn’t care less. Because not getting first place causes you to go off on a rant that Heeseung joins in on. Staying after school turns into study partners at the nearby cafe which becomes study dates. Both of your attention is openly on the other. And while you’re both at the top academically, you become the couple goals everyone wishes they could achieve.
“ace of my heart 💞” you caption an Instagram post of a picture of Heeseung.
rest of the boys under the cut!
Jay
Culinary class is peaceful for Jay. He has control of everything, knows where the ingredients and cooking tools are, can do something he loves, and did we mention control of everything? As a chef, he learned what you were like the first few weeks of class. You were messy with apple peels next to the lime squeezer, engaging in a way of cooking that you defined as “organized chaos.” You didn’t use measurements, cooked things by eye, and used whatever seasonings felt right. It wasn’t that you were bad at cooking, he actually enjoyed your dishes. But your process was just something he couldn’t stand. And maybe he doesn’t really like you since you accidentally used the last of his honey when making cupcakes but that’s a story for another day. The culinary teacher decided to try something new to promote teamwork and for a week, the class would be in partners and cooking a dish new to both people. And who did Jay just have to end up with? You. As the two of you read the recipe for your first dish which was a dessert of sorts,
“What do you wanna use first, jackfruit or durian?” he asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips,
“Durian, because it looks like you,” you said before making your way to the table where all the ingredients were.
“Inner peace,” he muttered to himself as he watched you walk off. The next day, you were making peach tarts.
“Yah, Jay, look here,” you said as you held up your phone and the peach. In the photo you took, the peach was next to Jay’s face, sort of comparing the two.
“Why’d you take a picture of me?” he asked. He didn’t really mind photos, knowing full well how good he looked but you taking one of him came completely out of the blue. As you glanced up from your phone after hitting post, you were unable to stop your laugh,
“Your hair looks like a peach,” you said with a wink as you went back to cutting the ingredients.
“Do I just, do I just look like food now?” he muttered to himself with a huff.
“I mean… I wouldn’t mind eating you,” you teased. You were smooth, he’d give you that. But, damn, he wanted to make you feel the way you were making him feel right now.
It didn’t take long for you to learn that Jay’s way of teasing made you flustered as hell. If you’d ask him to hand you something, he’d hold it above your head forcing you to have to jump up. It just so happened that he did this once right in front of someone else’s station and as you jumped, you almost knocked into them which led to his arm around you,
“Watch where you’re going,” he warned with a teasing edge as he handed you the carrots.
When you handed him something, he’d take it in a way that his hand held yours for a second but that second was enough. As the two of you cooked together, you entered your own world with no one else but the other in it. He was patient with your organized chaos, his own habits finding a place alongside your cooking routine. For the last day of working as partners, you two were to bake cookies. You put in a pinch of salt then some sugar when suddenly,
“YAH!” you hear from next to you. Met with Jay’s wide eyes as he looked in the bowl where you put the salt and sugar,
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“I told you to taste the salt and sugar before you used it.”
“The first one tasted like salt so I put more of the second one.” He took a pinch of the sugar already in the mixing bowl then tasted it, a disgusted look appearing on his face”
“You put salt then more salt, good job y/n.”
“Huh?” He took another pinch then brought it up to your lips and as you tasted it,
“Why the hell is there two kinds of salt here!”
“One’s fine, the other’s coarse. I wanted to eat these y’know.”
“Fine, head over to my place after school and we can make cookies together.”
“That’s not funny. You can’t mess with cookies,” he muttered.
“Who said I was joking? We can even drizzle honey over it.”
Jake
Perfection doesn’t even begin to describe Sim Jaeyun. A gentleman, kind, smart, has an accent that you can’t help but sometimes tease him about, and obsessed with Layla were all things you couldn’t fault him for. But sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a little too nice. You couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of the girl chatting with Jake by the benches and her feeling his arm up.
“Geez, tell her to go away!” you wanted to say to him as you started walking towards them.
“Hey,” Jake said with a smile as his eyes landed on you. The same smile he smiled at her with.
“Are you ready to go?” you asked, trying not to sound pissed but couldn’t help yourself.
“Yeah hold up.” Jake looked at the girl, “Just text if you need help with anything else on the homework,” he said before walking off with you.
“Who was that?” you asked as the two of you made your way to the cafeteria.
“New girl, needs help with physics so she asked me for help.” Jake was supposed to help you with physics.
“You gonna help her on Tuesdays?” you asked, referring to the day Jake always helped you. If he did notice your jealousy, he didn’t say anything about it. Oh, but he did notice. And he kind of wanted to edge it on to see how far things would go.
“Should I? She can hangout with me and Layla.”
“See if she likes me better than Layla.”
“Might take you up on the offer, watch your words, y/n,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah? You introduce her to Layla and I’ll divorce you then take full custody.”
“I didn’t know we were married, don’t we gotta go out on a date first?”
“I don’t know, do we?”
“Let’s do it right now then.”
“Fine! Wait what-?”
Sunghoon
On the ice, you and Sunghoon went together like sugar and tea. Off the ice, you two were like the coarse salt that ruined the cookies in Jay’s fic. You and Sunghoon skated well together, putting on a performance that typically got you first place, but that’s exactly what it was. A performance. An act. Nothing more, nothing less. Neither of you talked when you saw each other after practice the next day at school. Neither of you actively told anyone that you knew each other more than most couples did. But there was just something about talking to Sunghoon outside of ice skating, acknowledging that there you had an ice skating persona as well as the persona you showed to everyone else, that frightened you. So both of you made an unspoken agreement that you’d keep your ice skater lives in the rink and outside of it. Except for right now where the transfer student who coincidentally just so happened to be an ice skater and was wondering if you’d be his partner for the upcoming showcase.
“Y/n already has a partner,” Sunghoon said, cutting in as he stood next to you. The transfer student’s eyes settled on Sunghoon,
“You’re Park Sunghoon, the guy who-”
“Almost made it into the Olympics? Yeah. And y/n and I are gonna do it together this year.” You weren’t quite sure how to feel about Sunghoon suddenly “claiming” you (not in a toxic way whatsoever, we don’t condone that here). But you did know that this meant Sunghoon knew of your existence outside of the rink.
“Says who?” you said, trying to see how this would go. He looked at you, fear flashing in his eyes at the thought of the two of you not doing this together.
“I thought, I thought we were? Are we not? We have our outfits planned and everything.”
“I mean… plans change, Hoon.” That nickname, the one only you were allowed to use for him.
“Do you not wanna do it together?”
“I’m just gonna… go,” the transfer student said.
“I do wanna do it together.”
“So then what’s the problem?”
“We kinda don’t have a relationship outside of the rink, Hoon.”
“We can make one, then. Right now.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
Sunoo
You’ve always held a level of jealousy towards Sunoo. Sunoo has always been the guy who’s everyone’s friend even if he’s popular, the type of guy who waves at everyone, greets them with a smile on their face, and gets people to attend class/school events. Whereas you’re more on the introverted side, not really liking people. When it’s lunchtime, you tend to eat alone not really giving a damn about everyone else. You’re not exactly an outcast, just more comfortable  by yourself. You’ve always been jealous of how Sunoo’s open to people, talkative, and just overall likable. Because unlike him, people think you’re being mean when you’re quiet and it looks like you’re not listening to whatever it is they’re saying. Around school, Sunoo has earned the nickname Sunny while you’ve been given the nickname Winter. Everyone sees how you walk away whenever Sunoo waves at you in the halls. Everyone is aware of how you scoff whenever Sunoo does aegyo in front of you. Everyone notices how you get mad whenever he links his arm with yours. But it’s Sunoo who sees the glint in your eyes the second they meet his by your locker. It’s Sunoo who notices the slight smile that plays at the corner of your lips whenever he calls himself “ddeonu.” And it’s Sunoo who’s aware that no matter how much you protest when your arms link, you’re never the one to let go first. So he sits at the desk in front of yours during lunch, chatting his butt off about his day while stealing bites of your lunch. He gives you face masks with the excuse of “it was a buy one get one free deal and I don’t know who else to give it to.” He asks if he can style your hair playing it off as “practice.” Little by little, you begin to open up. When you see him in the halls, you start to give him a smile reserved only for him. When he does aegyo you tease him by saying that Jake does it better. And when he links his arms with yours, your pinkies intertwine. You bring an extra bag of chips for lunch and start making your portions larger to share with him. You invite him to the mall since you saw an online promo while walking by. You start to enjoy the way he plays with your hair, sometimes even craving his touch. Because we all know, the sun has its way of melting ice. 
Jungwon
Yang Jungwon, the class president, has a 100% success rate in getting field trip forms submitted on time. Well, it would be 100% if it weren’t for you. It seems as if you’ve made it your life’s mission to do everything and anything that’ll piss off Jungwon. Every time there’s a permission slip that needs to get signed, he constantly finds himself having to remind you of it so that it’d get turned in on time. Yet despite this, you always turn it in a day later. When things are kind of slow in class, you’re always talking to someone and have earned the title of the chatty kid no matter where the teacher makes you sit. Jungwon has no clue how someone as big of a procrastinator as you, always chatting with people when you don’t need to, and has your music playing so loud that everyone else hears, gets the good grades that you do. But regardless of what you do, you don’t bring down the class average so he’ll give you that. It’s time for a new seating arrangement and where does the teacher have you sit? Right next to him. So he’s dreading it, knowing that for the next 2 weeks he won’t get any work done, have to deal with you chatting to everyone, and has to be the one to catch you up when you enter class late.
“Hey,” you say with a smile as you settle in the seat next to his. He likes your smile, he won’t lie. But you’re annoying as hell. One week goes by as a back and forth of you constantly making efforts to get on Jungwon’s nerves but he returns the favor while teasing you back. With the two of you as partners, he starts to notice some things about you. Things like how you play with your thumb before raising your hand to answer the question. He sees that your notes are full of rushed scribbles and you dot your i’s close to the center but not just there. Your binder is covered with artwork of things you like and photos of you and your friends. Amidst your chattiness and tardiness, he finds himself looking forwards to certain things. He looks forward to your messy hair as you rush in 15 minutes late and start scribbling your notes in an effort to catch up. He looks forwards to how your conversations become a distraction from lectures. And he wonders to himself, what it’d be like if he were a photo in your binder.
As the second week continues, you start to see things differently with Jungwon. His reminders become less annoying and more useful as you take it in mind. When you’re late, he already has a second copy of the notes waiting for you on your desk. He buys you stickers for your binder using the excuse of “I stole it from my sister.” Before either of you realize it, it’s time for a new seating chart.
“Guess you’re happy to get rid of me, Wonie,” you joke as the two of you stood up to head to your new seats.
“I want you to sit across from me,” you hear him say.
“Huh?”
“At the Eggy Cafe on our first date,” he says before heading to his new seat.
Ni-ki
Dance class, it’s exhausting. Countless hours spent practicing a choreography that only lasts for a few minutes. Constantly getting yelled at by your teacher when you take a wrong step. Continuously in an unspoken competition with the best dancer of the school, Nishimura Riki. Ni-ki fools around during practices, usually to get on your nerves. Whenever you buy bungeoppang at the stall in front of the school, half of it instantly belongs to Ni-ki as he takes a bite when you’re not looking. Whenever the two of you are the only ones who’ve got the choreography down, sometimes you’ll slow things down to piss him off. There’s a flow to Ni-kis dances that no one else can replicate, a flow he was born with and can never be taught. Everyone, including him, is aware of this. But you’ve always been different from everyone else. All his life, he’s been told how good at dancing he is but you criticize him. While the others applaud his performance, your eyes are watching his every move. He almost hates how well you can spot the mistakes he can’t even see on himself. But as time goes on, these little competitions start to develop between you two, even outside of dance. When dance class ends, the two of you race to see who’ll get to the bungeoppang stall first. Last one there pays for bungeoppang. This is the competition you let Ni-ki win, using “I’m already tired from dancing” as an excuse. In the mornings, you compete to get to first period. Loser pays for lunch. This is the competition where there’s a middle ground between you two. Sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, other times you enter class together. When walking home, you compete to get to the bottom of the stairs at the subway station first. Whoever loses has to carry the other’s bag until you get home. Ni-ki lets you win this one, using “If I ran any faster I’d trip,” as an excuse. These small competitions become the things you look forward to throughout the week, enjoying the thrill of small moments with Ni-ki. At one point, the two of you (on separate occasions) talked to Jungwon about the competitions, telling your side. To the both of you, he says the same thing. “Why don’t you see who asks the other out first and plans the better date?”
❦ written by riri (@enhykkul)  | blog masterlist
requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis
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dickwheelie · 4 years
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this is a few days late but it’s still technically Hanukkah, so! here’s a fic about Jon and Martin celebrating Hanukkah in the safehouse (shhh timelines aren’t real) because I like to project and I really like the idea of Jon being Jewish. a lot of us are having weird holidays this year, away from friends and family, so the boys having a weird one too seemed appropriate. in particular, Jon not having a menorah because I don’t have one this year either :(
the stuff in this is based on my own experiences celebrating Hanukkah growing up in a pretty secular household, so if you see anything that’s “wrong” then that’s why, lol. the prayer is accurate as far as I know though, it’s the same one my family and I sing every year.
(also this is not a good representation of how to make rugelach! if you really want a good recipe, hmu and if you ask nicely I might share my mother’s 😁)
enjoy and Happy Hanukkah!! 💙🕎✡️💙
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“I just feel bad,” Martin said, watching from the sofa as Jon put the challah in the oven. “You’re doing all this cooking, and I’m just sitting on the couch like a lump. And this is supposed to be your holiday.”
“Martin, for the tenth time, it’s fine. Besides, the holiday doesn’t actually start until sundown,” Jon called, cheerfully enough, from the kitchen. Jon liked cooking, Martin knew, and he didn’t really see it as a chore in the same way Martin did. Still, this was a special day for Jon (well, eight days, really), and Martin wanted to be of some use. He’d offered to do everything from peeling potatoes to rolling matzoh balls, but Jon, ever the control freak in the kitchen, had stopped him at every turn. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about not helping out as Jon bustled about, trying to make Hanukkah dinner for the both of them.
More than helping out, really, Martin just kind of . . . wanted to share this with Jon. The way Jon talked about it, it sounded as though he’d had more Hanukkahs alone than with friends or what little family he had. Martin wanted to make Jon feel like he didn’t have to be alone this year, and even if Martin was new to this, he was game to learn. Jon had already told him about the holiday and all the different foods he was making, but there was still some distance there, a disconnect, that Martin knew Jon wasn’t putting between them on purpose. It seemed to Martin more like a force of habit than anything else.
After setting the timer for the challah, Jon nodded, satisfied, and came over to join Martin on the couch. He slouched against him comfortably, and Martin automatically put an arm around his shoulders. Jon had a bit of flour on his nose, and Martin gently swiped it off, which made Jon’s face wrinkle up like a disgruntled cat. Bloody adorable, Martin thought.
“I get a bit of a break before I have to start on the latkes in a few hours,” Jon said. “Got to make those right before dinner so they’re fresh.”
“Can I please help with those?” Martin said, half-joking.
“Fine,” Jon laughed, “yes, Martin, you can help with the latkes.”
“You won’t regret it.”
“I’m sure.”
“Is there dessert?” Martin asked, offhandedly. He hadn’t noticed Jon getting out any sugar or making anything sweet that day. “Do people eat anything sweet on Hanukkah?”
“Well, there’s gelt,” Jon says. “Chocolate coins. But the grocer’s didn’t have any. Unsurprisingly.”
Martin laughed. “Yeah. Probably not a huge priority in the Highlands.”
“People also make rugelach, sometimes.”
“Arugula?”
Jon laughed, not unkindly. “Rugelach. Different from the vegetable. Very different,” he said. “It’s a pastry. A kind of holiday cookie, I guess you could call it. Sweet dough with chocolate or cinnamon inside. It’s simple to make, but I didn’t buy the right stuff for it, and honestly I have enough cooking to do.”
“Yeah? How d’you make it?” Martin asked, innocently enough, though an idea was brewing.
As Jon explained, he waved his hands in the air, miming the process. “You just roll out some pastry dough, cover it with chocolate or cinnamon or walnuts or whatever you like, cut it into strips, and roll them up.” He thought for a moment. “They look a bit like seashells.”
“Huh,” Martin said. “Seems easy enough.” He’d never made dough before, but how hard could it be, really. The hardest part, he figured, would be actually making the things in their tiny cabin and even tinier kitchen without Jon finding out.
Soon after that, the oven timer started beeping, announcing that the bread was done. Martin took advantage of Jon busying himself in the kitchen to slip out the door, giving him some offhand excuse about wanting to get some air, to which Jon waved him off.
In the baking aisle at the grocer’s, Martin quickly realized he was out of his depth. He stared at the display of flour and sugar and baking powder and all sorts of other stuff, utterly at a loss as to what one needed to make pastry dough. He tried, once again, to Google a recipe on his phone, but once again, there was no service and no wifi.
Well, there was always pre-made, frozen dough. Not ideal, but it’d probably work in a pinch. Much faster to make, too, Martin thought as he dropped a couple cans of it into his basket. The filling, at least, he knew he’d be able to handle; he grabbed a few bags of baking chocolate and a shaker of cinnamon, and brought everything up to the checkout counter.
Martin didn’t even know which lucky stars to thank when he arrived back at the cabin to find the kitchen empty, and Jon passed out on the bed in a post-challah, pre-latke cooking nap. Martin gently closed the bedroom door and immediately set to baking.
Going by Jon’s vague descriptions, he rolled out some of the dough into a flat oval shape, but the pre-made kind wasn’t meant to be used all at once, and the end result was a sort of lumpy mass. Digging around in the cupboards, he was able to find some flour, which helped make the dough less sticky, at least. Eventually, he was able to get it flat enough to cover it with the filling, like Jon had told him. Half of the dough he covered in cinnamon, liberally shaking it out all over the dough. The other half he covered with the baking chocolate, which came in little chunks, but he figured it would melt in the oven just fine.
Next, just as Jon had described, he cut the dough into even strips, thin and rectangular, and rolled each of them up, so the filling made a little spiral shape inside. The chocolate ones were a bit chunky and awkward-looking, but, well, it was the taste that counted, wasn’t it.
Martin turned to face the oven, realizing he had no idea how long they ought to bake for, or at what temperature. He checked the instructions on the tins of pre-made dough, deciding to go by whatever they suggested. It wouldn’t do for the dough to be raw, he figured.
Soon enough, the pastries were in the oven, and Jon was still dead to the world, none the wiser. Martin felt quite satisfied as he cleaned up, mentally patting himself on the back for a job well- and stealthily-done. He’d hide them in the oven, he decided, until after dinner, and then he’d surprise Jon. Smiling, he went to join Jon in bed, curling up next to him as he slept, until he fell asleep himself.
Martin woke groggily several hours later to Jon gently shaking him awake, telling him it was time to make the latkes. He’d already got the batter done, a thick, floury mixture of potato and onion, and a pan of oil was bubbling on the stove. Jon showed Martin how to drop spoonfuls of batter into the pan, patting them down to shape them into little fist-sized “pancakes.” He let both sides brown in the oil until they were nice and crispy, before transferring them onto a paper towel-covered plate to cool. It was simple enough, and Martin was able to finish up the batch as Jon set the table, bringing out the challah and matzoh ball soup he’d made, as well as sour cream and apple sauce to dip the latkes in.
Once the latkes were done (and Martin was quite proud to say they’d come out very nicely), Jon retrieved some red wine he’d gotten in the village and poured them both a glass. Then, as Martin was getting ready to sit down, Jon glanced around sheepishly, gesturing at an empty space on the kitchen counter.
“I, ah, normally I’d have a menorah to light. But obviously I didn’t bring one when we came up. And out here, well, it’s the same as with the gelt. No real place to buy one.”
“Oh,” Martin said, heart sinking. He reached out to squeeze Jon’s hand. “That’s a shame. I’m really sorry.”
“Really, I just wish I could show you,” Jon said, shaking his head as he took his seat at the table. “It’s really lovely. You light a new candle every night, and when they’re all lit . . . I’m sure it’d look nice here, especially.” He gestured at the space in front of the darkened kitchen window.
“Yeah,” Martin agreed, wistfully. He’d seen photos of menorahs before, and he could just picture it, he and Jon gathered around, lighting candle after candle as the eight nights passed.
“Well,” Jon said, turning back to face Martin at the table, “we may not have a menorah, but I can still do the blessing.”
“Blessing?”
“Yes. You’re supposed to do it while lighting the menorah, but, well. I’m sure this will do, given the circumstances.” Jon reached his hand across the table, and Martin took it.
“Alright.” Jon cleared his throat, almost self-consciously, and then began to sing in Hebrew, a melodic, practical tune that sounded comfortable and familiar on his tongue, like a well-worn shawl. “Barukh ata Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav, v’tzivanu, l’hadlik ner, shel Hanukkah.”
Martin couldn’t really sing along to the words, but he nodded along to the melody, and when Jon was done he looked up at him and smiled, and Martin beamed back. They both raised their glasses and drank.
They ate heartily, or at least Martin did, because Jon kept shoving second and third bowls of soup at him, and insisting he finish off the latkes. Not that Martin was complaining, of course; it was all delicious, and Jon did praise him for how nice the latkes had come out.
They left the dirty dishes for later (or, knowing the two of them, tomorrow morning), and after dinner they went straight for presents. Though his options were limited without online shopping or anything outside of the tiny village, Martin had managed to find an adorable little painted china Highland cow in a local antiques shop.
“I know you think they’re cute,” Martin said as Jon lifted it out of the box.
“How did you know,” Jon deadpanned, but he grinned as he brought it up to his nose and stared at its little painted snout. “I love it, Martin, thank you.”
Jon had gone the homemade route, and knitted Martin a scarf. And a pair of mittens. And an entire bloody sweater.
“Oh my god, Jon,” Martin said, staring in disbelief at the mounds of knitwear before him. “How did you find time to do all this? How did you find time to do all this without me knowing?”
Jon looked away sheepishly. “I, uh, I’m a fast knitter.”
Martin shook his head fondly. Unbelievable. But he immediately took off the sweater he’d been wearing and pulled on the one Jon had made. It fit rather well and was as cozy as it looked. “Thank you, Jon,” he said, feeling the sleeves, knowing that every loop and stitch of the fabric had been purposeful. He could practically feel the care and love Jon had put into each one of them. “I love it,” he said, leaning over to kiss Jon at the corner of his eye.
“Well,” Jon said, cheeks darkening, “Happy Holidays, then.”
“Oh,” Martin said, rising from the sofa, “I’ve actually got one more thing. Sort of a last-minute gift.”
“Hm?”
Martin went over to the oven and took out the trays of rugelach. He’d checked them earlier to see if they were cooked through, but hadn’t gotten the chance to taste one yet. “Tried my hand at a bit of dessert,” he said, selecting a couple nice-looking ones and putting them on a plate for Jon to try.
Jon had followed Martin into the kitchen, and was staring at the pastries lined up on the trays. “Oh, well, thank you,” he said, surprised, taking the plate Martin handed to him. “What are they?”
Martin cocked his head at him. “Rugelach,” he said. Wasn’t it obvious?
Jon’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Ah,” he said, voice strained with positivity. “Of course. Right.”
Martin was starting to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Gingerly, Jon took one of the rolled-up pastries, and bit into it.
Martin tried one as well. It was one of the chocolate ones, and it was . . . crunchy. Very crunchy. The chocolate, it seemed, had only partially melted in the oven, and the pastry dough itself was a bit hard to bite through. Besides that, it wasn’t very sweet, the chocolate being too dark and the dough being too salty.
He tried a cinnamon one. Again, the dough was crunchy, and the cinnamon was overpowering without any sweetness to it. Martin considered the possibility that perhaps he ought to have added sugar.
Jon, for his part, was doing his best impression of a person who was very much enjoying the pastry they were eating, honest. “Mmm,” he said, demonstratively, as he swallowed one of the cinnamon ones. “Thank you, Martin, these are . . . delicious.”
Jon was actually reaching for seconds, which Martin knew he was only doing to make him feel better, so he reached out a hand and placed it on Jon’s, stopping him short.
Jon looked up at him. Martin shook his head wordlessly. Jon cracked a smile.
“They’re not good,” Martin said, putting them back on the trays one by one.
“Martin--”
“It’s okay,” Martin said, smiling back at him, “I know. They’re rubbish. I didn’t even use a recipe, of course they were gonna turn out--”
“Well,” Jon said, stubbornly, “you tried. It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, Martin, really,” Jon said, bringing up Martin’s hand to kiss the back of it. “It was very sweet of you to put all this effort into it.”
“Next time, I’ll look up a recipe,” Martin said, bringing one of the trays over to the kitchen bin. Jon was quick to assist him.
“There’s seven nights of Hanukkah left,” Jon said, after a moment’s thought. “We can always try again. Tomorrow, we’ll get more ingredients, and I’ll show you how to do it properly. It really is easy, you just need . . . well. Sugar, for one.”
Martin laughed as he tossed the last of the batch away. “Okay. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
“I mean it, though,” Jon said, looking at him fondly. “Thank you. For this, and for the cow, and for sharing the holiday with me. It’s . . . this has been really . . .”
Jon was gesturing in the empty air, struggling for the proper word, but Martin understood well enough. “Yeah,” he said. “And thank you, for sharing it with me.” He pressed a kiss to Jon’s cheek.
“Happy Hanukkah, Jon.”
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bakugohoex · 4 years
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Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈
“happy birthday, baby”
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pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader
cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love
word count: 1600+
a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow
summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you
↞ back to attack on titan masterlist
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This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment
He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.
Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.
Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.
Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.
This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.
So fucking sweet right.
He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.
Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.
A horror scene but he tried.
Balloons every fucking where.
He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.
This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).
He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.
This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.
This man is just too good for his own good.
Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.
This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.
He don’t care (breeding kink?).
The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.
You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”
Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.
Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.
“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.
Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”
“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.
“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.
You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.
Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”
“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.
“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”
He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”
Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.
“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.
“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”
He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.
Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.
“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.
“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.
You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.
He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.
You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”
His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.
Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.
Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.
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i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x
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phoenix-downer · 3 years
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The Bucket List
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After Sora’s return, Riku helps Naminé fulfill the items on her bucket list. 
~2100 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Rikunami/Namiku. Romance, Fluff, Friendship. Naminé POV. Written for @memoryofpromises​.
Golden light danced along the walls and rested on Naminé’s face. The breeze from the open window brought in the smell of sea-salt, and she sighed deeply. Having a body of her own again was truly special, even though it had been over a year since she’d gotten one. Every day was a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait to see what this one had in store.
“Morning, Naminé,” Kairi said as she yawned and stretched. Her red hair stuck out from all different sides of her head, and she smiled sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.” Naminé sat up and rubbed her eyes. One of Riku’s baggy hoodies served as her nightgown, and her cheeks flushed pink as she thought about the time he’d given it to her to wear. Since then, she had a growing collection of his hoodies and jackets that supplemented her own wardrobe nicely. 
“Did you enjoy your first sleepover?” Kairi asked as she swept her hair back into a ponytail. 
“I did! It was a lot of fun.” 
They’d stayed up late, watching movies, eating candy and popcorn as they talked about all sorts of things. Another item Naminé could cross off of her bucket list. Now that Sora was home, safe and sound, they were all able to focus on just enjoying life again. Soon after they’d gotten him back, Kairi had helped Naminé make the bucket list, and now her friend was helping her do all the things on it, one by one. 
“We’ll have to invite the other girls over sometime so we can have a proper slumber party,” Kairi said. “We’ll need to figure out a time that works for everyone, but I’m sure we can make it happen.”
“Thank you, Kairi, really. You don’t have to do all this for me—”
“I know. But I want to. You’re my friend.”
Naminé smiled. It was so nice to have Kairi for a friend. Before, she’d felt so alone, and now she had so many friends that there was never a dull moment. Her Gummiphone was always lighting up with messages and photos and phone calls, and her schedule was filled with school and dates with Riku and plans to hang out with friends. 
“So, today you said you wanted to go shopping,” Kairi said as she rummaged through her closet for something to wear. “And that means we can dress up if you’d like.” 
“I’d like that very much,” Naminé said as she got up from Kairi’s trundle bed. It was nice to go from having one dress to a full wardrobe of clothes, and now Kairi wanted to take her shopping to get even more clothes. 
Together they got ready for the day. Naminé went with a simple blue dress with yellow accents that Kairi let her borrow with sandals to match. That was the nice thing about being Kairi’s (former) Nobody; they could swap clothes no problem. Kairi swept her hair up into a French twist and secured it with a clip, then gave her some paopu fruit earrings to wear. When she was helping Naminé put the finishing touches on her makeup, the doorbell rang. 
“Huh, I wonder who that could be,” Kairi said, but there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and her lips were twitching. 
“Kairi?”
“Why don’t we go see who it is,” Kairi said as she grabbed Naminé’s hand and led her downstairs. Naminé’s heart pounded; could it be—
“Surprise!” Kairi squealed as she opened the door. Standing there, wearing a nice shirt and slacks, was Riku. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw Naminé, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she returned his smile. 
“I assume we’re not going shopping?” she asked Kairi. It was strange but also a little thrilling, how much trouble she had looking away from Riku when he was nearby. 
“We can, some other time. But yes, today is supposed to be for the two of you. Riku just wanted it to be a surprise, and he recruited me to help.” 
“You don’t know how hard it was not to say anything,” Riku said. “I’m… not very good at keeping secrets. But I wanted to surprise you.” 
“You did,” Naminé said. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”
They just smiled at each other for a few moments until Kairi cleared her throat. “Better get going, lovebirds, or you won’t have time to do everything Riku has planned.” 
That snapped them out of their reverie, and Riku blushed as Naminé ducked her head and giggled. They hadn’t even left Kairi’s house yet, and they were already getting so distracted. Naminé went back inside to grab her purse, and with that, she and Riku were off. 
“Where are you taking me first?” she asked as Riku led her down the winding path away from Kairi’s house on the hill. It was amazing how comfortable it felt to hold his hand like this now. She still remembered the day when he’d first offered his hand and she’d taken it, the day she’d gotten a body of her own again and a precious reminder that she wasn’t alone.
“To the Gummi Ship,” Riku said as he gave her one of his charming half-smiles. 
“And after that?”
“You’ll see. And no cheating and looking at my memories,” he teased. “I’ve been to the places I plan on taking you today, so I’m sure you’ll find them in there.”
Her lips twitched. “Me? Look at your memories? I would never.” 
“The innocent act doesn’t work so well on me, you know,” Riku said with a laugh. “It might fool Sora and Kairi, but I can see right through it.” 
She bit her lip and stopped walking, and Riku turned around to look at her.
“What is it?” he asked, his face twisted into a frown. 
“You know I wouldn’t look at your memories without your permission, right?”
His eyes softened. “Yeah, of course. I trust you, Naminé.” 
She relaxed at his words. Sometimes she wondered how the others could trust her at all, with the powers she had. But Riku really did mean what he said, of that she was sure. He had always been honest and open with her about his feelings and struggles, so she was trying to do the same. 
She found his hand again, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 
“C’mon, let’s go,” he said, and she nodded and let him lead the way once more.
Their first destination was Twilight Town. Riku took her to Le Grand Bistro, where they ate a delicious lunch consisting of Pumpkin Velouté and Sea Bass en Papillote, with Berries au Fromage for dessert. The weather was perfect as they dined outside, just the right temperature with a light breeze blowing through, and Naminé sighed as she set her fork down and patted her mouth with her napkin. 
“Thank you, Riku. The food was delicious.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “I used to walk past here sometimes, when we were looking for a way to help Sora. It’s nice to be able to finally eat here myself. It was something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, then found her hand again. They just gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, until Naminé had to look away because she was getting too flustered.
“I’ll go pay up, and then we can go to the next place,” he said. 
The next place was still in Twilight Town. The little outdoor theater, to be exact, the one tucked into a side street that showed the latest cartoons and movies. Naminé had never been to a movie theater before, and she watched enraptured as the action unfolded onscreen.
“It’s so big,” she whispered. She knew from Kairi’s memories what a movie theater was like, but seeing one in person was completely different from seeing it in someone else’s memories. 
When she glanced at Riku, he wasn’t really watching the movie at all. She caught him looking at her instead, and that just made a blush creep up her cheeks once more. She found his hand again and worked up the courage to lean against his shoulder. Yet another thing on her bucket list she could scratch off.
Wait a moment. Was this… on purpose? Did Riku somehow know about her bucket list? And if he did, was he trying to help her do the things on it, one by one?
She shyly looked up at him, and he smiled again and squeezed her hand. “Enjoying the movie?” he whispered.
She nodded and turned her attention back to the screen. There was only one way to find out if he was, in fact, working off of her bucket list. She’d have to wait and see where he took her next. But if she was right, there was something on the list she wanted to experience, more than anything, and she couldn’t wait to see if it would come true. 
When the movie was over, Riku led her up to Sunset Hill. The view from here was as beautiful as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Golden light flooded the sleepy town stretching out below, and the sky above was filled with fluffy clouds tinged purple. Beyond the town were green hills as far as the eye could see, and Naminé found herself longing to sketch the scene before them. They sat on one of the benches and savored the moment till at last Riku spoke up. 
“Do you remember the last time we were up here?” he asked. The breeze ruffled through his hair and clothes, and Naminé was very glad he was dressed like himself this time instead of shrouded in a dark cloak. His eyes were their natural green, and he was looking at her in a way that made her heart flutter. 
“Yes, of course,” she said, pressing her fingers together. “How could I forget? You spared me and saved my life.” 
DiZ had ordered Riku to dispose of her, but Riku had defied his orders, and in doing so, allowed her to escape. That was the first of many times he’d shown her kindness. 
His face was very serious when he spoke again. “Of course I did. It was the right thing to do. I knew in my heart that you were your own person, and I couldn’t just ignore what my heart was telling me.”
“This was the first time, wasn’t it?” Naminé said softly. “The first time we realized… there was something more between us. Against all odds, a human and a Nobody had developed feelings for each other.”
“Yeah. I realized I couldn’t bear to lose you. Funny how that meant letting you go.”
Naminé smiled shyly and found his hand. “But now we’re together again, at long last. It all worked out in the end.”
Even after the long separation they’d endured, they’d found each other again. Even after they’d spent more than a year apart, searching for a way to save Sora, their work was done at long last, and they could finally rest side-by-side, hand-in-hand. 
Her eyes searched his face. He’d fallen silent, like even a whisper risked ruining such a special moment. Her gaze wandered to his lips, full and soft. How would it feel if he bent down and—
Oh. Oh my. He must’ve been wondering the same thing too, because he was leaning closer and closer, his breath warm on her cheek. She tilted her head and let her eyes flutter shut so she could focus completely on how it felt when their lips met. Despite how sweet and gentle the kiss was, it still felt like an electric jolt went coursing through her body at the connection. To think that kissing could feel so wonderful. No wonder people liked to do it so much. 
When it was over, she opened her eyes and smiled. Riku was smiling, too, and he rested his hand against her cheek and gave her a long, lingering kiss on the forehead before straightening. It was funny, how that forehead kiss made her melt even further. She found his hand again, and they sat there, gazing into each other’s eyes, the scenery around them all but forgotten.
As nice as her bucket list ideas were, nothing compared to getting to do them with him. When he was by her side, each moment was a wonderful adventure that would soon become a precious memory.
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A/N: A big thank you to the mods, Kai and Sera, for organizing everything! And thank you to the artists and other writers for creating such beautiful pieces! I really enjoyed being a part of this zine and seeing everyone’s lovely works 💜
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izzabeean · 3 years
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Chapter 5 : Impulse
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SUMMARY
You've learned something you wish you didn't about Ushijima and now you wish you could forget.
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pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader
genre : angst + fluff
word count : 2,836
tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn
a/n : What can I say, Y/N has a bit of a sweet tooth! I mean if I spent a day in the city you bet I would be eating a lot of food. Or is that just me? Anyway, I am happy with how this turned out! The next chapter is going to be so fun!
Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.
Hope you're enjoying the series so far!
masterlist
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Today sucks. 
After last night, you didn’t think it could get any worse, but you were so wrong. The sliver of hope that today was going to be a bit better quickly vanished in a matter of seconds leaving your heart even more shattered than you thought was possible. 
So why? 
Why is it that you saw the person you’d love the most with a girl you’d never seen before? As much as you wish it weren’t so, the evidence is right in front of you no matter how many times you try to push the image away. 
Staring down at your soft serve ice cream, nearly melted, you let out a big sigh trying to repress the tears wanting to form. You wish your favorite flavor of frozen dessert could solve all your problems, alas, the rich creamy flavors only remind you of a date you had with Ushijima… 
“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” you spout, arms linked with Ushijima marching your way to your favorite ice cream shop. It was this particular spot that made you realize Ushijima is more than what you’ve ever wanted in your life. You’d been dating for six months now, a new record in your love life, also a big surprise you haven’t tired him out with your nonsense.
Instead of arguing whether a cold dessert was an appropriate snack in the winter, he just let out a deep sigh in reply knowing you’re not going to be convinced otherwise. 
“Don’t give me that,” you holler, covering your face in your hands, refusing to look at Ushijima.
Gently, he grabs your hands pulling them away from your face giving you a little kiss on the cheek in apology for his teasing.
“Y/N.”
Oikawa’s voice pulls you out of your bitter memory back to sitting across from him at a cafe. Your heart drops, realizing that there will not be any more moments like that with Ushijima. Did everything always remind you of him this much?
“You’re ice cream,” Oikawa says, eyes locked on to the dessert dripping on your hand. 
Quickly you get up from the table grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess you’ve made which resonates with you very well at this point. Not only are you emotionally a mess, apparently now you can’t even physically get a hold of yourself. Emotional pain is just temporary, yes, yet there’s this overwhelming feeling that makes you think your entire world is closing in on you.
In the process of cleaning up the sticky residue, you let out a growl noticing it’s dripped onto your palish pants producing a humiliating colored stain. You start pressing on the fabric in hopes your mishap would magically disappear… It doesn’t. 
Oikawa peers down at your pants attempting to conceal his chuckle with a titter.
“It’s not funny,” you rasp.
But Oikawa can’t stop himself from bursting into a loud guffaw resulting in a free-flowing of tears. 
Completely exasperated by the chaos, you throw out what’s left of your liquefied treat and sit back at the table covering your face with your hands. You didn’t feel in a rush to embarrass yourself more by strutting around the city with a large smudge of ice cream on your pants.
Once Oikawa gains his composure, he takes his jacket off and passes it to you across the table.
“You can hold this to cover it,” he offers.
The gesture feels loaded, like the true intent is much more devious than that, especially since he seemed to find it so amusing. There’s no way Oikawa could perform such gracious acts of kindness. 
“Take it,” he says. 
“Aren’t you going to be cold?” You reply, shoving the coat away with your hands. 
Oikawa shrugs, “I’ll be fine.”
Giving in to his persistency, you take the jacket. “Thank you,” you breathe.
You watch Oikawa straighten out his shirt and fix his hair as a couple of girls walk by giggling, smiling at him, one even gives a little wave. It puzzles you how Oikawa can be such a dreamboat, from your years of friendship, his reputation borderlines annoying and childish, but the little gestures he’s made today have really made you rethink; this was a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before.
On your way back to the train station, you look out toward the horizon and see the sun setting; pinks and oranges fill the sky, and the sight before you is quite romantic. The scene itself ended up turning out to be soothing despite the alarming encounter from earlier.
Now your new reality is finally setting in where there’s no Ushijima.
“I don’t want to go home,” you utter.
Oikawa studies you with your head hanging low. The glow of the sun coats you in its gleaming rays, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he noticed the light capture a shimmer of a single tear tracking down your cheek. Then it finally resonates with him: you're not okay. 
“Wish I could get out of these pants though,” you laugh. Then just like that, you revert to a smile. 
“Let’s take you out,” Oikawa says.
“Out? Like to a club?” You didn’t fully expect any sort of resolution from Oikawa, your comment was meant to be rhetorical. 
“Yeah! You, me, and Iwa! We never go together and it will be good for you to go out to have some fun!”
“I don’t know about that,” you sigh.
Oikawa’s eyes widen, the look on his face is full of excitement basically begging you to say yes. He must know you’re feeling vulnerable because it doesn’t take a moment more of hesitation to.
------
When Oikawa said he was going to take you out, he really meant it. The nightclub is lavish as loud music pulses in your chest while crowds of people huddle around the bar and scatter across the dance floor. 
Oikawa could be considered an avid clubber, how could he not be when he is so popular with girls, and had always tried to convince you to join him. You never really have, but you’ve also never really had your heartbroken to this degree. 
“It’s about to get even more crowded,” Oikawa yells into your ear.
10:13 pm on a Saturday evening and it’s going to get busier? Oh god.
Crowds aren’t your thing. Clubs aren’t your thing. Drinking isn’t really your thing. What are you even doing here?
“Shots?” Oikawa suggests pointing to the bar.
Your stomach churns at the thought. Diving into the night with shots seems excessive; they always leave a bitter taste in your mouth and the strong smell makes you want to gag. You wanted a drink to ease you into the evening...
“6 shots of Jäger,” Oikawa orders. 
Maybe not so much tonight.
The bartender retrieves the alcohol and brings back six shot glasses, each filled to the rim of dark liquor. Holding the shot glass up to your face, the potent smell makes your nose scrunch. With a cheers, you throw back the alcohol and the sensation burns your throat; it’s awful. Knowing there’s a second shot waiting, you don't delay the inevitable.
“Someone’s eager,” Oikawa purrs watching you down the second shot. 
The corners of your mouth turn down as the hairs on your back stand up. You let out an ick and turn to Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are both in awe of your tenacity.  Truthfully, you were shocked too. Then all the tension in your body seems to disperse, from the day, from entering the nightclub. You finally feel relaxed.
“Am I going to be waiting for you all night? Or what?” You tease eyeing their untouched liquor. 
Both men look at each other and take the shot in one gulp. Calling over the bartender you order another round, this time they’re a lot easier to take.
“You’re really not playing around,” Iwaizumi teases, impressed that you’re able to down three shots in a matter of minutes upon entering the venue.
Shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi, he looks so hot in his black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A warm feeling fills your chest, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol hazing your perception or you were genuinely starting to crush on him. 
Damn it, you think to yourself while your eyes continue to linger on him. 
Considering your current situation, the smart thing to do here would be to do nothing. On the other hand, you couldn’t help that your heart fluttered in Iwaizumi’s presence. Surely, he didn’t realize the meaning behind his words but it brought you lower into the sort of absolution that you were definitely forming a rebound crush on him. But you couldn’t let yourself. Of course, if you did, you were bound to hurt Iwaizumi and your friendship with Oikawa. You had to stop yourself before it was too late.
Oikawa’s eyes fall onto you, noticing your ogling. You seem to illuminate with this glow he hasn’t seen all day and for a split second, he is fueled with irritation at the sight. But catches his outward anger and pushes it down, gaining composure. 
------
Keeping up with Oikawa for most of the night was a bad idea. Certainly, it didn’t occur to you until you stumble into the bathroom all by yourself, realizing you were most definitely unable to stand straight without help. 
Check yourself out in the mirror, you pull out your phone to take a raunchy selfie. You smirk at yourself checking the photo before posting it to your social media story.
That will show him, you think, hopeful Ushijima will see the image you’ve posted. He’s not the only one who can have fun.
Before even pressing “post” you get a text from Oikawa asking where you are. You giggle as you type come find me and press send with the intention of finding him first.
As you leave the bathroom, you begin to scan the crowd for Oikawa or Iwaizumi trying to recollect where you last saw them. The crowds of people in the vicinity make it practically impossible and the further you walk into the nightclub, the louder the music gets, the brighter the lights are, the warmer your body feels. 
All you wanted to do was get out.
Stepping outside, there’s this instant relief from the crisp evening air although it doesn’t last long, and soon a violent shiver courses through you. Turning around to go back inside the bouncer stops you then points to what seems like an endless line of people. 
“B-but, I-I just need to get my jacket,” you stammer.
“Sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait in line,” he booms.
Your outward calmness cracks, too anxious to even think up an excuse. You needed to find Oikawa or Iwaizumi and you need to find them now! 
You turn your attention back to your phone as you begin to type out a text to come meet you outside the club.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” a raspy voice calls out.
You look up and see a rough-looking guy in line making intense eye contact with you. Normally you don’t judge, but your drunk bordering wasted self notes this man was very sketchy and it’s best to avoid him. So you turn your back to him and call Oikawa instead.
“Hey don’t ignore me,” he yells.
You start walking in the opposite direction from the line as far away from the stranger as possible. You’re a bit worried he can still see you and slip into an alley beside the nightclub, the phone still ringing on the other end. 
“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!!” You mutter into the receiver. Oikawa doesn’t, so you try again.
“I don’t like being ignored, sweet cheeks.” The same raspy voice makes you jump as you turn around to see the scraggly man backlit by fluorescent streetlights, only making his appearance more menacing. 
The call goes to Oikawa’s voicemail again.
“Guess your friend ditched ya,” he continued walking closer to you. The statement sobers you up as his aura escalates to a more threatening demeanor. 
“They said they’ll just be out,” you squeal.
“Yeah?” The stranger keeps shortening the distance every step. “Why don’t you come with me?”
He’s so close now that you can smell his disgusting breath and you start to panic. “I-I can’t, I’m waiting for someone, th-thank you though.”
Why the fuck did you say thank you? Your brain screams at you.
“Oh come on sweet cheeks,” he coaxes, reaching out to clasp on to your wrist. “I’ll show you a good time.”
Your body freezes at his touch. It stings as a sharp pain from his grip makes you want to scream or cry, but the shock was melting your ability to. You felt so useless and timid in times of distress. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t escape searing clutches of--
“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice thunders.
The stranger turns to see the culprit and you slowly glance to see Iwaizumi with an intimidating aura protruding from him. 
“Just having a nice talk,” the stranger purrs, tightening his grip more and you let out a little yelp.
“Is that what this is? She looks pretty scared to me,” Iwaizumi retorts.
“This’ none of your business kid,” the stranger rages.
“Actually it is,” he demands stepping closer. “Let go of her.”
A vein on Iwaizumi’s neck pops out as his hands start to ball into fists. Now the stranger is intensely regretting his choice and you can sense it from the fact he’s visibly shaking. You are nearly on the verge of tears from the pain in your wrist and wonder if he was going to break it.
“Let go,” Iwaizumi orders again.
And this time he does, the man, nothing but a weak buffoon, frees your wrist and walks off in a trudge.
“You okay?” Iwaizumi walks over to you to take a look at your wrist. 
You nod, letting out a deep exhale trying to hide how petrified you were while holding your wrist.
“Does it hurt,” he asks, gently applying pressure to it. “Let me take a look.”
Initially, you flinch at his touch, afraid the searing pain will return, instead, his fingertips lightly trace your wrist while analyzing it thoroughly.
“Let me take you to a hospital to be sure.”
“No, no,” you breathe, locking eyes with him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.
Iwaizumi’s face flickers with a bit of uncertainty but decides not to push it and lets go of your wrist to take out a cigarette.
“Fuck,” you hiss. You felt like an idiot for going off on your own, for drinking this much, for going out at all. “I’m sorry.”
Deeply inhaling the smoke, he turns to you, “For what?”
“For running off by myself, and you totally just saving my ass. It’s just… pathetic,” you exclaim, reverting eye contact with him-- you’re slightly embarrassed and his silence is only telling, considering you barely know each other. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.” 
“It’s not pathetic,” he states, shrugging his shoulders. “Oikawa says you’re dealing with shit.”
Your reaction isn’t short of an embarrassment. His words hurt you as the scenario of Oikawa telling Iwaizumi about your break-up fills your mind. You scoff. “I’m fine!”
“You’re a horrible liar.” Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem calling you out as you stared at him after a few moments of silence. 
“So what am I supposed to tell him?” you mutter, this surge of anger sweeps over you, you feel this swell of rage boiling inside. “That it’s ok to see my ex, not even a day broken-up with a new girl? It’s fucking bullshit!”
He turns to look at you and blinks at your reaction. The sudden unexpected word vomit makes you pause. 
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” you whisper. “It’s just weird, you know, all of it. I didn’t expect to be blindsided like that. It’s just…” You look over to Iwaizumi listening intently to you and feel your face grow hot. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! You never asked.”
It’s awkward and quiet, you’re pretty sure Iwaizumi can feel it too. You’re puzzled with what to say and feel pressured to express a less depressing answer. You didn’t want to drop the mood of the evening. In those moments, it became apparent you needed to sober up.
“Can I have one?” you ask. 
He looks at you with wide eyes, “You smoke?”
You take out your lighter that you have stowed away in your purse flaunting it as evidence of your new bad habit. Iwaizumi tosses you the pack of smokes.
“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You’re trying to sound like you’re joking but a hint of worry seeps through and you’re left waiting for a serious response from him.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
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I Found Love On Christmas Eve❤️🎄❄️💋🦇🕷️🕸️💕: A cute, fluffy Stangel holiday fic for @princessrainbowpastel / @stelladelano!
I honestly should have posted this in December, but I got hella distracted by stuff, mainly Tumblr, school, roleplay, and "other things" lol. But here ya go bestie! Enjoy!💋
I had so much fun writing this (I wrote it awhile ago and saved it in the my notepad app), and I would love to thank @ren-c-leyn for double checking and enjoying reading this!🙂 I'm proud of how self-indulegent this is lol!💕 Warning: this is VERY long lol!😁😁😁)
Stella was in her dressing room getting herself ready for her next strip show! Being that it was December, the club she worked at made its female workers all wear sexy santa girl costumes.
As she got ready, the bat couldn't help but think of Mystery Fan (as she liked to call them) and all the wonderful gifts they have been sending her for months. She let out a happy sigh as the thought of them always made her day. Whoever this mysterious admirer was, they had to be the sweetest, kindest, most heartfelt demon in all of Hell. She had to admit - with every gift and letter they had sent, she was falling for them more and more. Stella felt like a school girl finding and receiving gifts and love letters from a shy, secret admirer in her locker.
'The day I meet this person,' Stella thought, putting the finishing touches to her Christmas themed makeup, 'Will be the happiest day of my life!' Little did the scarlet haired cutie know that that day was today.
When the show came to an end, Stella heads back to her dressing room, changes into her regular attire, and begins to pack up. A Christmas party was being thrown at the hotel today and she didn't want to miss it or be late. Once she was packed and ready, Stella heads to her car and starts to drive back to the hotel.
As she drives, she spots happy demon couples on the sidewalk, handing and receiving gifts and letters to and from one another. Their reactions to the items were all the same - cheery and content. Seeing such a sight makes Stella frown slightly as she let out a soft sigh. She really wishes she could receive something from the passionate person who's been on her mind for months now: Mystery Fan. Just the thought of hearing their romantic words being said to her up close and in person made the redhead's heart race.
When Stella arrives at the Hazbin Hotel, she parks her car and steps out of it. The bat saw the exterior of the place and was astound by how it looked. The building was covered head to toe with Christmas decorations and lights!
"Wow, Charlie really went all out this year..." said Stella, amazed and impressed by her friend's work. The bubbly blonde really gave the place the right design for the holidays.
As she enters the hotel, Stella let's out a surprised gasp. The inside looked absolutely gorgeous! Like the exterior, the interior of the place was also nicely covered in Christmas decorations. It was like walking into a Christmas wonderland! In the background, holiday music could be heard playing from the intercom.
At the party, all of Stella's friends were there, having fun and celebrating while wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. Well, almost all her friends. The only person who seemed to be missing was Angel Dust.
Niffty was happily collecting candy canes from the Christmas tree and placing them inside her stocking, Charlie and Vaggie were having a lively conversation together on the lobby sofa as they held cups of hot cocoa in their hands, and at the hotel mini bar, Alastor was seen hanging out at the counter speaking to Husk as he cleaned shot glasses. The grouchy bartender couldn't help but groan and roll his eyes each time the radio demon spoke to him.
While talking to Vaggie, Charlie spots Stella from the corner of her eye. "Stella! You're here!" the Hell-born princess gasped, thrilled to see the other female as she gestures for her to come over.
When she does so, Charlie gives Stella a pure, genuine grin. Now the party could really get started!
A montage of cute Christmas photos begins as "My Secret Santa" plays. The first photo is of Charlie, Vaggie, and Stella with mics in their hands, singing Christmas karaoke songs together. Alastor, Husk, and Niffty are there as well, watching the three girls. Niffty cheers for them, Alastor looks amused by the whole thing, and Husk doesn't seem to care.
The second one is of Charlie and Stella smiling and hugging each other while wearing reindeer antler headbands and light up Rudolph noses.
The third photo is of Stella and Vaggie wearing Christmas tree glasses. In the photo, Stella is grinning while holding up bunny ears with her hand above Vaggie's head, and Vaggie has a cute, calm smile on her face while holding up a peace sign with her hand.
The fourth photo is of Stella and Niffty enjoying candy canes together.
The fifth one is of Stella, Husk, and Alastor. In the photo, Stella has a mischievous and flirty look on her face as she holds up a mistletoe plant for the two males to see. Husk, of course, wants nothing to do with kissing of any kind with her as he has an irritated expression on his face, while Alastor, with a large grin of his face, slightly pushes Husk towards her as if saying "Please, take him, not me." And the sixth and last photo is of Stella and the others taking a group Christmas photo together.
After the montage comes to an end, the gang all decide to play a fun little game of pin the tail on the reindeer! Vaggie was the blindfolded pinner and Alastor, being a deer demon, was decided by everyone to be the reindeer. The moth had a devilish grin on her face, her hair bow reacting the same as it formed onto itself a wicked grin with razor, sharp triangular teeth. She saw this as the perfect opportunity to get back at Alastor for constantly pestering her and getting under her skin. The radio demon saw the look on the hotel manager's face and didn't like where this was going as a nervous sweat droplet appeared on his forehead. Before Stella could record this amazing, hilarious moment on her phone, her stomach slightly growled. She decided that the best thing to do now is to take a quick cake break and come back to the action later. Hopefully, she'd be able to capture at least some of it on her device.
Once she steps inside the kitchen, she sees the delicious looking Gingerbread Cheesecake sitting on the countertop, making her mouth water. She happily cuts herself a piece, sits down at the table, and partakes in the rich, sweet dessert. As she was eating, she began to think about Angel Dust. She hoped that the spider was doing okay (especially around this time of year).
In her mind, she wondered why he didn't show up at the party yet. Was he just really busy at the studio and couldn't arrive, or was the arachnid secretly upset with her about something and was trying to avoid her to the best of his abilities? As all these thoughts about where her best friend could be and why he wasn't at the party yet clouded her mind, Stella's stomach began to feel weird and somehow, to her, the cake that she was eating began to taste less and less sweet. She slowly stopped eating, puts her fork down, and utters out a small, tired sigh as she sadly rests her head on the table.
Charlie, entering the kitchen, sees a glum Stella at the table with her head down. Being the kind friend she is, the princess instantly becomes concerned over the bat's well being as she quickly heads over to take a seat next to her.
"What's wrong, Stel? Is everything alright?" Charlie asked, putting a comforting hand on Stella's shoulder. Stella slightly lifts her head up to look at Charlie before sighing. "Oh, it's nothing." she replied before putting her head back down. Now, Charlie obviously knew that that wasn't the case, but, before she could say anything, she suddenly remembered why she came into the kitchen in the first place.
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot!" She pulls out a small present and shows it off to Stella. "Someone wanted me to give this to you." she smiled. "Huh?" This got Stella's attention as she raises her head up to look at Charlie and the gift.
"The person decided that it would be best to stay anonymous...for now..." Charlie continued, handing the unknown gift to Stella as she gave her a small wink. What did Charlie mean by that? Stella's scarlet colored eyes slowly examined the present box that was in her hands. She saw that it was beautifully wrapped and had a cute bow on top that was tied perfectly. The bat brought the box close to her ear and shook it slightly to figure out what was inside. Whatever it was, it didn't weigh much. She takes a look at the tag and reads it. "To Stella from..." Stella lets out a surprised gasp as she got to the last word "#1 fan!" She couldn't believe it! So not only was this mystery demon a common patron at the strip club she worked at, but they also knew where she lived and was in cahoots with Charlie.
"Wait, Charlie, you know about my #1 fan and who they are?!" Stella asked, hoping to get some sort of explanation. Charlie let out a hum. "You could say that..." she giggled, not spilling the beans. "Well, who are they!? They've been sending me stuff for months now, and i've been dying to know who they are!" Stella at this point craved any answer.
The princess, letting out another girlish giggle, replies with, "Well, they didn't want me telling you who they were buuut," She gave Stella a sincere smile. "Let's just say they're someone who cares and...I'm really proud of them for doing this." Charlie gives Stella another wink before leaving. She soon comes to the realization that Mystery Fan is someone in the hotel.
Alone in the kitchen, Stella began to carefully unwrap her present. As she tears off the the last remaining piece of wrapping paper, she sees that the gift inside is a teddy bear, wearing a Santa hat and has an envelope with a heart stamp taped to its right hand. Stella removes the envelope from the stuffed teddy's hand and opens it.
The bat sees a letter inside and starts reading. When she got to the last sentence, the redhead smiled softly as her cheeks change to a light pink color. She felt a warmness like no other in her heart. It was official; Stella Taylor Delano was in love with Mystery Fan.
Out of all the cards and letters they had send her, this one had to be most heartfelt.
The letter read:
“Stella Taylor Delano,
You truly are the only woman who can make me happy. Simply seeing your smile makes me realize that life in this literal Hell hole is worth living. My love grows for you each and everyday. I guess you could say that i'm addicted to you, and you are the only drug that keeps me functioning. When I look into your eyes, I see the real me, a person that lives for a goal and a purpose now...and that's being with you. This will be my last and final letter as I want to come out of my shell and reveal who I am. Meet me on the hotel rooftop at 10. See you soon~
Love, Your #1 Fan xoxo”
Stella was feeling extremely excited, as well as anxious, but still remained touched by the love letter written to her. She was finally going to meet Mystery Fan face to face! But who could they be, she wondered. Looks like she'll find out at 10. The bat makes a mental note to get herself ready at around 9:30 and head up to the roof at 9:55. Once she does, she leaves the kitchen and makes her way back to the others.
Stella hopes that they're still playing pin the tail on the reindeer so that she could record a bit of funny footage on her phone of a terrified Alastor running away from a vengeance seeking Vaggie with a pin.
Once the party came to an end, everyone decided to hit the hay for tonight. Well, almost everyone. Stella had to get ready for her meet up "date" with Mystery Fan.
Being that she was meeting this unknown, romantic stranger for the first time, she wanted to look her absolute best with the right outfit. The only problem is, Stella had so many good outfits in her closet. Which one would be perfect for Mystery Fan? This calls for a fashion montage.
In her room, Stella sets down on her bed a variety of her favorite winter sweaters and skirts to try on. She first tries on a pink sweater that had little, mini red hearts on them that she found to be cute, but the sweater wasn't the right cut unfortunately.
The next thing she puts on is a sweater / skirt combo that she thought made her look smoking hot, but at the same time she felt it wasn't quite right.
The red and white sweater? Too fluffy. The black skirt with stockings? No way. The yellow bikini she wore to the beach last year? Wait, how did THAT even get in her pile?! Doesn't matter, it was too much anyways and wasn't right for the weather, so she tosses the swimwear aside.
The bat was pickier than normal, tossing away beloved outfits in her hunt for perfection. Finally, after casting away so many outfit choices, Stella let's out a small, surprised gasp as the last outfit remaining on her bed was one to her liking.
It was a white sweater; long, dark gray sweatshirt; light plaid scarf; black knit gloves; a whitish, light pink knit beanie; black sheer tights; dark gray, and knee-high, suede boots. She found it to be absolutely adorable as she tried it on and modeled in it in front of her mirror. Yup, this outfit was the one!
After adding a bit of makeup to her features, Stella was set and ready to go! At around 9:55, almost 9:56, Stella double checks herself in the mirror to ensure that she looked good for her little "date".
After doing so, Stella hurries out of her room and heads to the rooftop stairs. When she arrives on the roof, Stella's scarlet eyes widden in shock as the bat was beyond surprised by the demon she's met with. It was Alastor!
The deer demon was at ease as he fed the large, demon birds who were with him bloody chopped up demon parts from a small, brown sack that was dripping in blood. When he notices a figure near of the corner of his eye, he turns to see a perplexed Stella gazing at him.
Alastor is the first to break the silence. "Surprised to see you here, my dear," he said, giving the red head one of his typical dark and brooding grins. "I knew it~" Stella gave the radio host a flirty smirk. "So all that pretending not to be interested was all an act, huh? Heh. It's always the ones you least expect. I had a feeling you couldn't resist all this~" she purred, signaling at her curves.
"I really liked those letters and gifts you've been sending me for the past few months. Who knew a powerful Overlord such as yourself had such a big heart~" She gave him a playful smile and wink. Hearing these words caused Alastor to blink for a bit before tilting his head slightly in confusion. "Pardon me?" he asked, wondering what Stella could be talking about.
Stella was a bit thrown off by Alastor's reaction. "That letter you wrote to me; it said that you wanted the two of us to meet here tonight at 10 because you were my #Fan 1, and...you also told me...that...you loved me..." Just thinking about all the stuff written from that recent letter caused Stella to flush, smiling at herself.
Alastor, now processing Stella's words, merely chuckled. "Me? A fan of yours? Not only that, but ME...love...YOU? Hahaha! My dear, don't be ridiculous. That's absolute nonsense! I'm only here because feeding these filthy, disgusting scavengers just so happens to be a favorite past time of mine." He smiled, being extremely uncompromisingly forthright with his rather rude remark.
"O-Oh..." Stella looked down as her shoulders slumped and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment, trying her best to blink back any tears. Alastor tossed the last remaining body part from the sack to the birds who fought and squawked over it. Devouring it quickly, the birds look to Alastor for more. "Sorry, but it looks like i'm all out," he told them as he threw down the empty sack to prove it.
The birds, seeing that there was nothing left, soon depart to the skies. Alastor waves a small good bye to them as looks to a heartbroken Stella who continued to look down. "Well, it's rather late, so I think i'll be heading inside. I'll be seeing you. Hopefully, whoever you're suppose to meet here shows up. Though, with how behind time they seem to be, I don't think they will." And with that, Alastor was gone. Stella sadly sighed to herself as she took out her phone to look at the time. It was 10:15. Mystery Fan, whoever and wherever they were, was late.
A sad, heavy sigh escaped Angel's lips as he was in is dressing room, sitting in front of his vanity mirror, getting himself ready for his next shoot. He felt absolutely awful about everything. He had wrote to Stella a confessional letter about his true feelings for her and how much the scarlet haired beauty meant to him. He remembered that in said letter he had mentioned that he would meet her at the Happy Hotel rooftop at 10, and right now it was 10:20.
His original plan was to leave work at around 9:45 to get to her, but he knew that Val would practically lose his shit again if he found out his favorite star skipped work.
Angel sighed for a second time. He really hoped that Stella would still be at the roof by the time he got to her. As Angel thought about what to do, the spider soon came to a realization that Stella, the girl who he loved with all his heart, was much more important than the feelings of his abuse boss, no matter how much he feared him. He had to find a way to sneek out without Valentino noticing. But how, he thought.
As the arachnid looked around the room in search of something that could help him in his escape plan, his eyes came to the body pillow of himself dressed in a school girl uniform that was laying up in the corner. This gave him an idea.
An irritated Valentino was seen at the studio's indoor film set, sitting in his director's chair as he waited for Angel to be in the next scene for his latest flick.
As the mothman waits, he taps on the side of his chair repeatedly with his index finger, clearly angry. Eventually, his patients wears thin as the fury that was bottled up inside him explodes as he storms out in search for his favorite money maker.
When he arrives at Angel's dressing room door, he bursts it open with all his might, nearly breaking it. He sees "Angel" sitting there in front of his mirror and marches on over to him.
"Angelcakes, you seem to be taking your sweet time in here. Don't you know I have a business to run and money to make?" he growled, now behind the spider. "Angel" said nothing as he continued to sit still in his chair. Valentino took this as his employee ignoring him, which he found extremely disrespectful and a huge insult to his ego. The pimp pulled out his pistol and pointed it behind "Angel's" head as he formed a wicked smirk.
"The silent treatment, huh? Well, let's see how silent you are when I blow your--" Suddenly, "Angel" fell to the ground. This reveals that "Angel" was really just Angel's body pillow dressed in his clothing and wearing one on his drag wigs.
Val was a bit stunned by this, but once the hamster on a wheel in his brian began to run and he slowly puts the pieces together, he figures out that the actual Angel Dust had skipped work...AGAIN. This caused an already vexed Val to turn red with rage. "ANGEL!!!" he angrily yelled at the top of his lungs, loud enough that his shouting echoed across the large building. As the real Angel Dust was running down a hall with a panic-stricken look on his face, he heard his boss's echo, which made him pick up the pace and run faster.
The speedy spider hightailed it out of the studio door as he made a run for it down the streets. He would have the deal with the consequences of leaving work later, but right now, he had to get to Stella, and fast.
Millie and Moxxie were happily walking home together down the downtown streets on a chilly, Christmas Eve night hand in hand after their little trip from the store, where they bought a Christmas themed cake for tommorrow.
"You excited for tomorrow, Mill?" Moxxie asked his wife sweetly. Millie smiles as she cuddles closer to her husband.
"I sure am, sweetie," she replies. Their peaceful walk is soon interrupted when they hear the sound of running footsteps coming towards them. Moxxie rasies a suspicious eyebrow at this, and Millie, concerned, hugs her hubby's arm tightly. The running demon is revealed to be Angel Dust, who's practically speeding towards them in a hurry.
"Outta the way! I'm late!" he shouts at the couple. When Angel sprints past Moxxie and Millie, his speed causes the two of them to spin around uncontrollably.
The cake flies out of Moxxie's hand and into the air. When the couple stop spinning, they both fall down bottom first to the ground, completely dizzy.
Moxxie, first to regain a bit of his balance, gets up as he shakes his head. He soon helps Millie up.
"Are you okay?" he asks, worried that she might have gotten hurt. "I'm fine, hun, don't worry." Millie gives him a reassuring smile.
The female imp quickly notices that something is missing and looks left and right for it. "Where's the cake?!" The minute Millie asks this, the cake, now out of its plastic container, comes falling to the ground in a splat.
"Oh no!" she gasps, holding a hand over her mouth in shock. Moxxie, angry beyond belief at this, waves a fist at Angel Dust who was long gone.
"Hey buddy, maybe watch where you're going next time!!!" He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before turning to Millie and the cake. "Great," he sighed, slightly vexed.
"Look what that guy made us do. Where are we going to get another cake at this time of night, hun? I'm sure the supermarket is closed by now, and tommorrow's Christmas. You know how packed supermarkets can get on that day."
Millie put a reassuring hand on Moxxie's shoulder as she gave the male imp a peck on the cheek "Aw, sweetie, don't worry. I think we have some cake ingredients at home. We'll just have to make our own cake this year. How does that sound?" Moxxie, now at ease thanks to his wife, smiles warmly at her. "Sounds fine to me."
Blitzo was walking down the street with a huge grin of his face. In his arms was a glass jar that was filled to the brim with marbles. "Loonie's gonna love her present this year! A bunch of marbles! I mean, who doesn't love marbles? I know I d--" The jar nearly slips out of his hand, causing the imp boss to stop mid-sentence.
He let's out a relieved sigh when it doesn't. "Ha, you know, more a minute there I thought--"
Just then, Angel runs past Blitzo, bumping into him slighty as he loses hold of the jar and drops it. When it hits the ground, marbles and shattered glass pieces go everywhere. "Oh shit!" he cried out. "I lost my marbles...literally!"
As Millie and Moxxie continue their little stroll home, they hear the sound of someone crying up ahead. The voice sounds quite familiar to them. When they got closer, they see that the weeping belonged to none other than their boss, who was on his knees with dramatic tears in his eyes.
"Oh cry! Oh sob! Oh weep! Oh other noises that show complete and utter sadness!" Blitzo cried, putting a hand over his face and slightly peeking out to see if anyone would feel sympathy for his unfortunate predicament.
"Oh no," Millie quietly gasped, putting both hands over her mouth. Seeing her boss in such a state instantly brought her bubbly mood down.
Meanwhile, Moxxie just rolled his eyes. "Oh please," he huffed, not buying his boss's "sorrowful" behavior at all. "Come on, Moxx. Let's go see what's wrong with Blitzo." she grabbed her husband's hand and dragged him over with her to their boss. Moxxie let out a groan, not wanting to deal with Blitzo on the day before Christmas.
"Blitzo, what's wrong? Is everything alright?" Millie asked as she and Moxxie arrived to him, a mix of concern and worry in her voice.
The red imp brought his hand down from his face when he heard Millie, and looked to see his two workers. The minute he saw them, the waterworks really came on. Blitzo gives to Millie an overdramatic hug, as he cried in her arms.
"NO, MILLS! EVERYTHING IS NOT ALRIGHT! I'VE LOST THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TONIGHT...MY MARBLES!" he then proceeds to cry more as Millie gives him reassuring head rubs.
"Shh! Shh! Shh! It's okay, sir. We all do sometimes." "At least he's finally admitted it," Moxxie whispers in his wife's ear, a slight chuckle in his voice. "Moxx!" Millie whispers back, lightly scolding him. "He's our boss. We've got to help him. Plus, it's near the holidays. No would deserves to feel sad during this time."
She then puts her on focus back on Blitzo. "Sir, I know the perfect activity that'll help regain your marbles! How about we all watch Christmas movies and--" "How the hell is watching Christmas movies going to help me get my marbles back? They're on the ground, Millie."
Blitzo shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He swears, Mills could be such an airhead sometimes. "Huh?" Millie and Moxxie both look on the ground to see that Blitzo was right. A small number marbles were on the ground as well as a few pieces of glass.
"I had them all in a jar, but I dropped the stupid thing and it broke. Hell, some of them even rolled away," Blitzo explains, teary-eyed.
As Millie thinks on what to do to help her boss, she gets an idea, a light bulb quickly appearing above her head. "I know! Me and Moxxie can help you pick the marbles up! Sure, we won't be able to get every one, but it's better than getting nothing!" she said, beaming brightly.
Hearing this somehow made Blitzo feel instantly better, his "sad" demeanor quickly fading away as he stood tall. "You're right, Millie! Wow, what an excellent idea I came up with! You two are the best employees a guy could ask for! I'm definitely giving you both a raise for this!"
Moxxie's jaw nearly dropped hearing this. "A-A-A raise?! Wait, you really mean it sir?!" Blitzo gives Moxxie a hearty smile. "Of course not! Now come on! Let's get to marble pickin'!" This made Millie smile while Moxxie glared at his boss, mumbling something about him under his breath.
Angel, now speeding up the hotel rooftop stairs like a madman, nearly breaks the door down when he bursts it open. "Stella I--!!" the spider stopped mid sentence when he sees that no one, expect for him, was there, causing his heart to sink.
"Oh no..." He takes out his phone from his suit pocket to see what time it was. 11:15. He breaths out a sigh of defeat as he put his device away and goes over to the end of the roof to look at the city.
Feeling beyond disappointed in himself and the situation, Angel uses his hands to cover his face. If only he'd have arrived on time, Stella would still be there. He honestly doesn't blame her for leaving. Suddenly, he hears someone call his name. "Angel?" Surprised by the voice, he turns around and sees Stella at the door.
"What are you doing up here?" she asks, concern laced in her voice due to how late it was. "Heh. I should be askin' you the same thing," Angel chuckles, a soft smile planted on his face at Stella.
God, she was absolutely beautiful to him. Stella bubbles out a giggle at the spider's playful demeanor.
"Well, I came here for my glove. I noticed that it wasn't in my pocket and figured i'd must have dropped it when I left. I was up here before. I was waiting for someone to show but..." Stella stops when she hears her voice slighty crack at "but" and quickly pulls herself together, not wanting to let out any tears like before.
"Well...let's just say...they didn't show up. They've been constantly sending me letters, telling me how much they cared, but...I guess they don't. Which is fine, haha! I'll be fine! I'll be...fine." The bat clearly wasn't fine with the heartbroken look on her face, and honestly just wanted today to be over.
Before she left again, Angel decided that now would be a good time to speak up.
"Stel, wait!" he called out to her. The minute she heard her name, the redhead turned back around to Angel, giving the spider her full attention. "Yes?" Angel clears his voice and nervously scratches the back of his head while looking down at the ground, cheeks flushed. He's usually the cocky, confident type, so seeing himself in such a state confused even him.
Shyly looking up to Stella, a blush still apparent on his face as his fingers started to fidget, Angel began to speak. "W-Well, about those, um, letters you've been getting...I, uh, you see, um, I wanted to say..." The spider stopped talking after "say", his nervousness not allowing him to get his full words out.
Stella's eyes soften at him, having a feeling that she knew exactly what Angel was going to say. "Yeah?" The spider took a deep breath, stopped his fidgeting, looked Stella in the eyes and gave the bat the most sincere smile.
"I wanted to say, Stel, that I met every word in all of them. Ever since the day we meant, I started gaining these feelings fer ya, and I thought that sooner or later the feelings would just, ya know, just go away. But...they haven't. In fact, they've gotten stronger. I started fallin' fer ya more and more each time we hung out. I couldn't get ya out of my head. You and I are best friends, so it all felt weird." He let's out a sigh. "Stella Taylor Delano, I know this might sound crazy, maybe even insane for me to say but...I love you. I didn't think I would ever have to say those words to a girl before, but it's true. You mean the world to me and make life in the afterlife more fun and worth living. Stel, I love you, and it would mean the absolute world to mean if ya loved me back." The spider awaited for the red head's response.
Stella's grey cheeks blushed crimson as touched tears began to course down her cheeks. She wiped her face a bit with her coat sleeve, but the salty liquid continued to fall as she walked towards him.
"A-Angel," she began, a sniffling mess. "Y-You really mean it?" The spider gave her a playful, but caring grin. "You know it, toots~!"
"A-Angel?"
"Yeah? What is it, babe?"
Once Stella was in front of him, she softly cupped his face and smiled in his direction. "I have something that I wanna confess that might sound crazy too."
"Y-You do?" he stuttered, his face turning as red as Stella's. "Well, what is it?"
As Stella started to talk to him, her smile still stayed on her face. "Angel Dust...I feel the same way. I love you too."
"Really?" he asked, his face getting close to her. "Really," she replied, her face getting close as well.
Their faces were now inches away from each other. They could feel each other's hot breath on their lips as the two's hearts were beating like drums. With just one movement, Stella and Angel locked lips.
As they shared their sweet kiss, flakes of snow began to fall from the sky as "I Found Love" started to play in the background.
"Oh, Moxxie! Just look at it! It looks absolutely gorgeous!" gasped Millie. The female imp and her hubby were in their kitchen putting the finishing touches to the Christmas cake that they baked together.
"It just needs one more thing..." Moxxie said as he looked on the counter for any decorations that would complete the cake.
"Ah ha!" he picked up the Christmas star cake decoration and placed it on top. "A star!" he smiled as he put his hand on his wife's waist and brought her close to him for a cheek kiss.
A giggle emerged from her lips as she smiled back at him. "Oh Moxx, this has to be the best Christmas ever," Millie sighed contently as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Oh, Loonie~!" Blitzo cooed as he arrived to Loona who was waiting for him at the end of the snowy sidewalk. The imp was carrying with him a plastic baggie that was barely filled with marbles as he shows them off for her to see.
"Gotcha a little Christmas Eve gift~ I had a jar for these, but it broke. Wasn't my fault though, some asshole ran into me. So, what do you think?"
Loona facepalms herself as she groans in annoyance at her dad's boss's lame ass "gift".
Back on the rooftop, we see our main couple still sweetly smooching. At the roof door, Niffty suddenly pops her head out and spots the two making out and giggles madly in fangirl victory, pulling out a notepad and pencil and doodling the cinematic masterpiece she's witnessing.
"MY OTP IS CANON, MY OTP IS CANON, MY OTP IS FREAKIN' CANON!" she quietly streaks, not wanting the lovebirds to hear or see her.
"Perfect!" she says as she takes a look at her finished work.
The drawling is a cute animu like doodle of Stella and Angel kissing. She then takes out her cellphone, turns off her camera flash, and quickly snaps a photo of the two before giggling to herself again and silently slipping away. Boy, her Stangel fanfiction is gonna be awesome with all this official content she's gotten!
Once Stella and Angel slowly pull away, they both hold each other's gaze as their eyes sparkle in wonderment. The kiss felt like something straight out of a fairytale. The two soon realize that they've been staring at one another for too long as they both apologize in unison and quickly look away, blushing like crazy.
While they continue their lack of eye contact, Stella feels a snowflake land on her nose as she looks up to see that it's snowing. As the snow continues to fall, bits of it gets in Stella's hair. Angel looks back to her and notices this.
A soft, genuine look appears on his features as he brushes some of the snow off of her head and lifts her hoodie up.
"There," he smiled warmly to the bat.
Stella returns the warm look and smiles back. "Thanks," she says, her heart melting.
"Soooo, uh," Angel cleared his throat as he started to blush, shyly looking away yet again as he scratches the back of his head.
"Does this mean we're, like, a thing now?" he asked, a bit worried about Stella's reply. The red head giggled at his shy state as she hummed out, "It seems so," she gently grabbed his upper hand, squeezing it a bit.
The spider chuckled as he grinned at Stella. "Good. I'm glad." The now official couple held hands as they walked back inside. This was definitely the start of a cute, beautiful relationship.
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unwritrecipes · 3 years
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The Book on Pie's Blueberry Clafoutis Pie-Famous Fridays
Happy Friday, my friends! Who’s ready to bake some pie?!! Today we celebrate renowned baker Erin McDowell and her wonderful and extremely comprehensive cookbook, The Book on Pie: Everything You Need to Know to Bake Perfect Pies. Whether you’re an expert pie baker or a complete novice on the pie baking front, as long as you ❤️ pie, this Famous Fridays is for you!
There are tons and tons of amazing recipes for pie in this book and it would have been extremely difficult to pick which one to feature but for the fact that my fridge is full of farm-fresh picked blueberries right now, so choosing this Blueberry Clafoutis Pie, was a no-brainer (told you I’d be unleashing a storm of berry recipes!!)
But before we get to this lovely summery pie, I just want to talk about how truly terrific and aptly named this cookbook is. In addition to a slew of fabulous sweet and savory pie recipes, you will learn everything you need to know about crimping and braiding and the lattice technique, how to blind and par-bake and dock, what special tools and pie plates to use and all different sorts of pie toppings, from streusel to nut butter whipped cream to dark chocolate drippy glaze! And everything is written so clearly with helpful little tips and accompanied by stunning glossy photos that you feel confident that no matter which recipe you try, you’re bound to succeed. In other words, this book is a keeper that I really think you’ll use for years and years!
And now finally, onto Blueberry Clafoutis Pie!!! Traditionally, a clafoutis is a homey French crustless dessert made with cherries that has an eggy batter that gets poured over the fruit and baked. Here, Erin brilliantly translates that into pie form, so that the blueberries get surrounded by a light custard AND you get the magic of an all-butter pie crust. So many great flavors and textures!!
Once you’ve put together and par-baked your pie crust (take a look at this post for how to do all that), you brush it with a little egg wash and fill with your berries
Next you whisk together the custard, pour it over those berries
And bake! Easy-peasy and done!
The filling is slightly creamy and perfectly balances out the juicy berries and crisp golden crust!
Unfortunately, I don’t have a cut piece to show you because I brought it to my sister’s house and it sort of got pounced on and disappeared before I could get my camera out, but that only shows how much it was loved, right?!! And sure, I could make this again (and I will) but I wanted you to have this asap since we’re really in the middle of blueberry season right now. In any case, I hope it inspires you to make your own!
So…get yourself a copy of The Book on Pie as soon as you can—with all the fresh fruit around, now is such a great time to bake pies and have a wonderful, safe and pie-filled weekend!!xoxo
The Book on Pie’s Blueberry Clafoutis Pie-Famous Fridays
Makes one 9-inch pie
Prep Time for Crust: 15 minutes, plus several hours chilling time, rolling out and par-baking. Prep Time for Filling: 10 minutes; Bake Time: 45-55 minutes
Ingredients
For the crust
1 ½ cups unbleached, all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling out
1 ½ teaspoons sugar
½ teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (½ cup) unsalted butter, cut into small cubes and chilled
⅓ cup cold water
1 teaspoon cider vinegar
Ice Cubes
1 large egg whisked with 1 tablespoon cool water, for egg wash
For the filling
10 ounces fresh blueberries
1 vanilla bean, cut lengthwise
½ cup sugar
¼ cup unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 cup whole milk
⅓ cup heavy cream
3 large eggs
½ teaspoon fine sea salt
Pinch of cinnamon
Confectioners’ sugar for dusting, optional (I didn’t use)
The Recipe
1. For the crust: Add the flour, sugar and salt to the bowl of a food processor and pulse a few times to blend. Add in the chilled butter and pulse a few times until the butter has become the size of small peas.
2. Into the ⅓ cup cold water, add the vinegar and stir. Then add enough ice cubes to raise the level to ½ cup. Add 2 tablespoons of the mixture to the flour mixture and pulse a few times to incorporate it. It will look very crumbly. Then add 1 more tablespoon and pulse again a few times. You should see the mixture start to come together in a shaggy way with lots of crumbly bits. If you absolutely think you need to, add one more tablespoon of water. I never need to—it’s better for your dough to be too dry than too wet.
3. Turn the crumbly dough out onto a very lightly floured surface and gather it all into a ball. Make sure to scrape out the bowl of the processor—sometimes some of the wet parts of the dough get a little stuck and form the whole thing into a ball. Then flatten into a disk, wrap well in plastic wrap and chill for several hours and even better, overnight.
4. When you are ready to roll out the dough, flour a board or counter with a little flour and flour your rolling pin too. If the dough is very stiff (mine usually is) let it sit out on the counter for about 20 minutes till it seems pliable. Roll out the dough, rolling from the center out and to a corner, then lifting the dough off the surface of the board and giving it a little ¼ turn and rolling again, repeating the process until you’re rolled the dough out into a circle that’s a couple of inches wider in diameter than the pie plate.
5. Fold the dough in half and transfer to the pie plate, unrolling it and then carefully easing it down onto the bottom and sides—no stretching! Fold the overhang over and crimp/decorate the edges any way you like. The easiest way is to just use the tines of a fork pressed into the dough to create a little pattern. Now prick the bottom and sides all over with the tines of the fork.
6. Place the pie plate in the freezer for 30 minutes.
7. Meanwhile preheat your oven to 425ºF. When the 30 minutes are up, line the pie with a piece of aluminum foil or parchment paper and either pie weights or beans. If any of the edges stick out, cut little pieces of foil to fit over them. Bake about 15 minutes and then remove the foil and weights. Return to the oven for about 2-4 minutes more until crust is golden brown and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
8. To make the filling: Place a rack in the bottom third of the oven and preheat oven to 350ºF. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and place the cooled pie shell onto it. Brush the pie shell all over with the egg wash and then fill with the berries, spreading them out evenly. Set aside.
9. Place the sugar in a medium bowl and scrape the seeds out from the vanilla bean into the bowl (discard the pod, or add to some sugar to make vanilla sugar). Use your fingers to rub the vanilla bean seeds into the sugar so that the sugar gets infused with the vanilla. Whisk in the flour. Then add the milk, cream and eggs and whisk well to combine. Whisk in the salt and cinnamon. Pour the liquid over the berries in the crust and kind of spread it around if it doesn’t distribute evenly.
10. Bake for 45-55 minutes, until the custard is set at the edges but the center is still a little jiggly when you gently shake the pan. Let cool on a wire rack and either dust with the confectioners’ sugar or not and serve. You can serve this while it’s still warm or at room temperature. Like all fruit pies this is best on the day that it is made.
Enjoy!
Note: Recipe adapted from The Book on Pie by Erin Jeannne McDowell. I used this pie crust recipe because it’s been my reliable go-to for years now, but I have used Erin’s too and it’s also terrific.
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jihyuncompass · 4 years
Text
Animals
After yesterday’s I decided to go for something a little shorter, I’m still not used to writing Seven AT ALL but I gave it a good shot. 
Mysme Week 2020 Day Six ( @mysmeweek2020 )
Animals
Saeyoung Choi x MC 
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend with a trip somewhere special 
Saeyoung loved surprising you. He was a natural born prankster so pranks were just a natural part of your relationship. From cups of water on top of doors or jumping out from behind corners, it was a sort of love language between you. Today, however you wanted to turn the tables, wanting to surprise him. 
You made sure to wake up a little bit before Saeyoung sneaking out of bed to head to your living room. You grabbed your backpack, last night you managed to sneak a few things in there but you didn’t want Saeyoung to see. You padded into the kitchen and grabbed some of the premade snacks you prepared yesterday while he had been working in his office. 
Zipping up the backpack, you returned to the bedroom. Saeyoung was still asleep, curled up in the blankets. You slid back into bed next to him. Lying down to look at him, you took in his peaceful expression. He never looked happier or more peaceful than when he was asleep. You almost hated to wake him up but this surprise was worth it. 
You pushed a lock of hair from his eyes. “Saeyoung.” You whispered, his face tensed for a moment before returning to its normal state. Signing you gently shook his shoulder, and after two pushes his eyes opened. 
“Morning.” He started, still not awake enough to show this usual energy. In this situation that may be for the best though.Maybe he won’t ask too many questions or try too hard to investigate. 
“Hey, get up and get dressed. We’re going out today.” You told him. This broke him out of his sleepiness enough for him to give you a weird look. 
“Oh? Where are we going?” 
“It’s a surprise.” You grinned. “Hurry and get up.” You pulled the blanket off of him and pulled him up by the wrist. To mess with you he ragdolled so he would be too heavy to move on your own. “Saeyoung! Come on!” He laughed, reaching to put on his glasses. Finally able to see you clearly he dragged himself slowly out of bed. 
After a quick breakfast you put your backpack on your shoulders and left a note for Saeran so he knew you would be gone for most of the day. 
Since you were the one with the knowledge of the destination you insisted on being the one who drove today. Normally Saeyoung would never let you drive one of his precious babies but after pouting just a little  he gave in this time and let you drive. 
Admittedly driving his car was scarier than driving anything else, this car was worth more than you had ever made in your life and went very fast without much effort at all. Saeyoung seemed to notice how unfamiliar you were too based on the way he kept side eyeing you driving. 
“So where are we going?” He asked. A sly smile on your face you answered nonchalantly. 
“Secret mission of the highest security. You’ll get details when we arrive.” You teased him. Showing off that big toothy grin of his he seemed to catch on to what you were saying. 
“Roger that Agent 606!” He shot back at you. You showed each other similar toothy smiles. You remembered the road directions in your head, using a GPS would have spoiled the surprise too early. 
You talked during the entire drive, Saeyoung checked into the RFA messenger during your drive and was relaying all the messages to you out loud. He even pulled out his best Jumin and Zen impression which nearly made you swerve off the road from how hard you were laughing. 
By the time that you pulled into the parking lot Saeyoung still hadn’t quite figured out where you were. He must have been too focused on the chatroom to look up at the signs when you passed them. In some ways this made the surprise better, holding his hand you lead him to the front gate where he could read the sign. 
“We’re at the Zoo?” Saeyoung asked, a big grin on his face. 
“Surprise! I thought it would be a fun date.” He held your hand tighter and faced you, his smile wider and goofier than you’d ever seen it before. 
“I’ve never been to the zoo before! Do they have lions here?” He asked genuinely. Thinking about it, he probably had only seen Zoos on TV before now. So he probably didn’t know what it all entailed. 
“Totally, tigers too.” 
“Monkeys?”
“Yep!”
“Penguins?” 
“Totally!” 
“Koaloa bears?” 
“Saeyoung.” You laughed. “Let’s get in, we’ll go look at all the exhibits.” Bouncing on his feet he practically ran to the front gate. 
After buying the tickets and getting a map of the Zoo the two of you sat on a bench to plan your route around the huge park. The zoo was separated into multiple sections based on geographic location. 
“What do you want to see first?” You asked your boyfriend, his leg was bouncing from his excess energy. 
“We should see the tigers first!” Saeyoung said. “I want to see the big cats!” Looking at the map you pointed to where the tiger exhibit was. It was a pretty good distance away from where you were. But you couldn’t say no to him, map in one hand and Saeyoung’s hand the other you both speed walked to where the tigers were. 
The whole walk you passed by other smaller exhibits and enclosures. Taking a small break from walking to look at them. With each stop Saeyoung’s energy seemed to get higher and higher. His excitement got to the point where the two of you were practically running the last few minutes of your walk. 
Leaning against the bars, Saeyoung stared down at the tigers. His eyes were wide in wonder. Watching him you thought he almost looked like a little kid, full of energy and excitement. 
Once Saeyoung was done looking at the tigers you walked around the rest of the section, seeing lions, panthers, and a cheetah. Each one he got excited about, taking pictures with his phone and insisting on reading all the information boards, and learning the zoo given names of every single animal. His favorite so far being Chester for one of the cheetahs. A name which did elicit a brief groan from you. 
You went from section to section, weaving around the Zoo, each one making Saeyoung’s eyes light up. Watching him you tried to remember the last time you had seen him so continuously, and genuinely happy. You kept thinking that he looked and acted like a kid. Especially as you watched him next to a group of kids. The only difference between them was Saeyoung’s height and the lack of sticky, germy fingers. That was until you have him one of the snacks you brought that left his fingers, admittedly, a little sticky. 
After running around for a few hours, your both decided that maybe it was time to get something to eat. Talking back towards the front of the zoo you went into a small cafe where they sold drinks and simple meal items. After getting your lunch you made the decision to get an elephant ear to share for dessert. 
Coming back to your picnic table you're sure your boyfriend's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The fried dough was draping off of the plate. Huge, and covered in cinnamon and sugar. 
“Are you having fun?” You asked him. Saeyoung paused right before doing what could only be described as trying to unhinge his jaw like a snake to eat his sandwich. He showed you a smile and nodded. 
“Yeah, I am.” His smile softened to just be pulling at the corners of his lips. “Thank you.”
“Good surprise?” 
“Great surprise.” 
After finishing your lunch and sharing the elephant ear (which is truly bigger than it ever needs to be) you continued on your quest to look at everything there was to look at. 
“You know who they remind me of?” Saeyoung asked, pointing to the Emperor Penguins. 
“Who?” 
“Jumin, I mean they’re tall, black and white.” He paused. “A lot of them are gay-”
“Saeyoung!” You gasped. He laughed, his hand on his chest. 
“Okay I was joking about that last bit, but the other things?” He motioned to the penguins. “Pretty spot on.” You rolled your eyes and laughed. You tried to be subtle about it but you absolutely did take a photo of one of them to post in the messenger. 
Soon it was starting to get late and both of your energy levels were getting pretty low. But as a final quest the two of you went to the gift shop. After searching for a while Saeyoung insisted on buying a tacky shirt with a giant lion face on it. It was weirdly cut and did not look like it would fit well but somehow it was just tacky enough that Saeyoung could probably pull it off. Together you also picked out a book to bring back for Saeran, something sweet and simple that he would like. Leaving the gift shop with a bag of your goodies Saeyoung took a long look at the thinning crowd. 
“We should come back with Saeran sometime. It might be a little much right now, but I think he’d like it.” Saeyoung said, you agreed mentally adding this to the bucket list you had back at home of all the things you, Saeyoung and Saeran wanted to do once he was more stable and confident. 
Saeyoung drove home, you were exhausted and keeping your eyes open was hard enough as it is. Before you felt yourself fall asleep you spared a look at your partner behind the wheel. He looked just as tired as you ddi but a happy smile was still recognizable. 
Your relationship had always been full of surprises, good and bad but if you had to say. You did a good job on this one. 
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enkelimagnus · 3 years
Text
Cookbook
Bucky Barnes Gen, 1694 words, rated T for Hydra shit
Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame
Bucky walks home from a long day of paperwork. On his path is a garage sale and a tired woman.
TW: cigarettes, smoking
Read on AO3
Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here, Part 2 here
----------------
Bucky smokes on the way home from work.
Everything that brought some sort of pleasure was a currency back in his day. That was why they sent cigarettes to the front. It was easy to make them necessary, when you were under constant fire and needed something to keep you going. Anything that got you out of that hell was traded for, fought for. Some days, it was like nothing mattered more than the next ration shipment and its load of cigarettes, pin-up magazines and six-pence books.
In truth, he doesn’t have the habit he used to have. Hydra wouldn’t have that. Upside of brainwashing, he guesses. And it’s not like it burns the same way anymore. That’s the serum for you.
Still, sometimes, he pulls a cigarette out of its gore-decorated cardboard box, lights it and pretends it has the same effect on him now than it did back in muddy camps or candle-lit living rooms.
The day has been long. No raids, but he’d been stuck behind a desk doing fucking paperwork for the last two weeks-worth of missions. His reports are tired and concise, he hates doing them and he’s pretty sure it’s obvious to anyone who reads what he writes.
He wishes he could smoke then , at that stupid cramped desk, to make the endless signing and reading and writing easier, but you’re not allowed to smoke inside anymore. So he finds himself doodling on other pieces of paper when his mind drifts. His focus is not the best outside of missions.
He used to love writing shit. Steve had his drawings and Bucky had his words, in between everything else. They wrote stories on notes they passed in class in high school. When it got taken by the teacher, no one could understand what they were talking about. He used to make up worlds and think of men walking in space, and he wishes he could tell his 14-year-old self that there are people in the sky, and that he’ll meet them one day. That he’ll see aliens, real ones, and punch them in the face.
He would tell him all the good things about the universe, all the people in it, all about partners in crime and arms like Dugan or Morito or Jones, or Sam or Natasha, how he not only met Howard Stark but was his comrade, how Stark knew him as “Sergeant Barnes” or “Sarge”.
He’d tell him all the good, and none of the bad, none of how his dad would die in two years and he’d be leading the family in shabbos prayers at 16, none of how the people in the world could be cruel for the sake of their own fun, none of how Howard Stark said his name in shock before he punched in his skull with the metal fist that was now his left hand.
Those conversations with his younger self -- barely a man, already smart-mouthed and charming and cocky in the way teenagers are and in the way Bucky had tried to remain for as long as he could until the war drained it out of him -- evaporate in the smoke, in the cold Brooklyn air.
He doesn’t love writing anymore. His mind can’t create the worlds it used to make. He thinks in three languages on a good day, only knows how to write one of those, so whenever he tries, something’s always missing. On a bad day, he can barely string along one sentence, let alone tell a story.
And he’s got no one to tell them to, anyway.
It’s 7pm and the streets are dark and icy. In the last few weeks, the gloves he always wears to hide his left hand have not been an incongruous fashion statement.
It’s January now. There was snow last week, a soft blanket that made him fucking cry out of nowhere when he saw it through the window. It was gone soon, but it was there. And for once, it didn’t fall on Siberia. It fell on Brooklyn again. He never would have thought he’d seen snow on Brooklyn again.
That kind of shit pulls memories out of him like nothing else, and he’s thankful for them. They make it easier and harder at the same time.
He told Doctor Raynor about the shul that’s now a church, about how it was the worst pain he’d felt since he’d last been wiped. How that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to walk into Becky’s retirement home and see her as she is now. The pain of time lost is the worst one to bear.
That, and he’s pretty sure she knows what he’s done. His name and photo have been blasted on every news channel and every social media website after the UN bombing. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize him, when he looks so similar to the brother she lost.
He has no desire to face his Becky now that he’s a murderer and a weapon of mass destruction, Hydra brainwashing or not. You don’t do that to your little sister.
Besides, she doesn’t need him. She’s got kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and nephews and nieces and every sort of relative you can imagine except for parents and siblings. She’s taken care of, they visit her often, she doesn’t need the grief he’d bring. He can’t be selfish.
He stops to stab the butt of the cigarette into a wall but his eyes catch something else.
In the cold evening, there’s a few lights set up on the sidewalk, over some makeshift tables threatening to crumble over all the items on it. Everyday items mostly, kitchen stuff, books and a clock and some candlesticks.
At first glance, all of the pricier stuff has been sold already, and there’s a tired-looking middle-aged woman sitting on the stairs of the house behind the tables. She has a look on her face, heavy with emotions muddled so well they’re impossible to tell apart.
“Buy what you want,” she says. Her voice doesn’t carry. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard more than a mumble if his hearing wasn’t enhanced. “Pay what you want.”
How many times has she said that today?
He looks down at the items for a moment, the cheap metal candlesticks, some old plates decorated with blue flowers, a still plastic-wrapped, never used, frankly hideous challah cover, and a pile of various books. Most in English, a couple in what he assumes to be Polish, some in Yiddish. His eyes fall on one in particular, a cookbook. It looks old.
“Can I touch?” He asks, pointing at the cookbook.
The woman nods. “Yeah. Nothing very modern in there. Bubbe barely even made this anymore,” she explains. Ah. A bubbe passed and the stuff they can’t keep, they’re selling.
The cookbook’s unremarkable. It’s been used, obviously, there are stains of chocolate-covered fingerprints on some of the dessert pages as he flips through. It seems to be half in English and half in Yiddish. He reaches the page where the publication date would be. He doesn’t even know why he’s checking.
Entire Contents Copyrighted 1949 The B. Manischewitz Co. Printed in the U.S.A.
1949. It’s close enough. Really close enough.
“How much do you want?” He looks up at the mourner.
“I told ya, it’s how much you’re willing to give.”
Bucky makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He rephrases the question. “How much do you want me to give?”
The woman makes eye contact again. She looks deeply surprised by his question. Hesitant, too. She has no idea what to reply.
He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, starts going through the cash he has. He barely uses his credit card. Every month, when he gets his money from the army, he immediately withdraws most of it. It’s safer that way, and he knows how much he’s spending.
He counts out 180 dollars. It feels like a ridiculous amount for a cookbook, but the woman’s selling her bubbe’s shit like this, she’s still out at 7pm in January in Brooklyn and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of expenses anyway. He doesn’t really have expensive taste. 18’s a good number too, at least, it used to be, in his day.
“Peace be upon her,” He says quietly, when the woman opens her mouth at the bills he places in her hand. “It’s getting cold, you should go back inside,” he adds, quiet and coaxing, the tone he used to use when the neighbor’s son, Aaron, had a tantrum and sat on the stairs all evening, pretending to be mad at his parents.
Did he know the bubbe in question? Was she one of the kids from Hebrew school? It’s a little too far from his old neighborhood to be sure. He’s not going to ask.
The woman sighs a little, putting the money in her pocket when she realizes he’s not going to take any of it back.
He eyes the tables for a moment. “You need help packing up?”
She hesitates. He gets it, he’s a weird stranger who just bought an old cookbook for 180 dollars, it’s nighttime… He can’t tell her he’s not a serial killer, because he is one, and there’s going to be a moment where she remembers where she’s seen his face before. There usually is.
He holds his hands up, seemingly showing he’s harmless. It’s hilarious, really, because he’s never harmless. But contrary to Steve, he’s not massive. He’s more on the lean side of things, especially with his new arm.
“No pressure.”
She hesitates still, but he sees the exhaustion working away at her until she nods. The cookbook is put to the side and he helps her pack up the tables and the remaining things. He is careful not to display too much strength, and he’s also careful to keep his face in a neutral but positive sort of mask. His resting expression is meaner than needed.
He comes home much later than he thought he would, but he’s got a cookbook and some ideas of how to occupy his amnesia-riddled nights.
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baldwinboy5choices · 4 years
Text
The Family Night Out (M! Robin Flores x MC)
Someone who absolutely never, ever writes fics (me) is so in love with Robin that they were actually compelled to write Choices fic for the very first time.
Book and Pairing: The Nanny Affair, M!Robin Flores x MC (Jett Hawthorne)
Words: 2.7k
Rating: I’m so new to writing fics I don’t even know what kind of rating system to use, but this is extremely tame, and, much like a PG-13 movie, contains exactly one very judiciously-placed F-bomb. 
Summary: I sort of started with “collision course,” which is the name of one of the Ice Age movies, and then worked my way backwards. So, in a manner of speaking, you could say that this is Based on the Comedy of Ray Romano. (Not really. The first part’s true, though.) No, it’s really more about the start of Robin and Jett’s relationship, with a little bit of inspiration from Sam saying in a diamond scene, “You could do so much better than him.” (me) (also me)
Thank you so much @semiautomaticheart for proofreading, and thank you @yaushie & @brightpinkpeppercorn for first pass feedback! You guys are all really awesome and I appreciate you all so much. 
Another day, another experiment for Mickey and Mason. Today’s flavor was taking photographs of deep space, courtesy of the telescope they remembered they got last Christmas, and their father’s old phone that they were allowed to occasionally play games on. 
“Do you think that counts as… deep space?” Mickey wondered, as he and his brother peered at the phone screen. 
“Well, yeah! And we’re just starting out,” Mason insisted. “We’ll get better!” 
“Yeah! Print it out!” Mickey hollered. “Our very first picture of outer space!”
Jett heard the bell of the elevator as she watched the boys signing the printout in colored pencil and running to the refrigerator with it. “Hold on, boys. I think I hear your father,” she said. 
Jett never met Sam at the door when he arrived home, with the exception of the time she had to distract him so Mason and Mickey could finish the birthday dinner for him. Today, however, she had a friendly warning for him. It just so happened that when she stepped out into the hallway, she was greeted by not only Sam, but also Sofia and Robin. 
Jett’s breath caught in her throat as she and Robin met eyes for a brief moment. The sight of him reminded her that the same night of Sam’s birthday dinner was also the night that brought Robin into her life, right here in that hallway. She quickly composed herself with a neutral demeanor. Addressing all three, she instructed, “Hey, guys. When you get inside, there’ll be a really blurry piece of paper on the fridge. Pretend you love it.” 
For once, Sam, Sofia, and Robin were united, sharing the same puzzled look directed at Jett, but before anyone could voice an actual question, Mickey and Mason were bursting out of the apartment door. 
“Mort’s! Mort’s!” the boys were chanting. 
“That’s right, boys,” Sam said brightly. He then turned to Jett and said, “Jett, we were hoping you could join us.” 
“But… it was going to be a night off,” Jett replied. Sam generally preferred dinners at home, but occasionally, he would take the boys out for some family time, and Jett would be off those nights. 
“I insist - dinner’s on me,” Sam said firmly, as everyone poured into the apartment and began raving over the hazy photo of a blob on the refrigerator. 
“M&M graciously donated one of the unused save files on their video game to me. And I thought tonight was supposed to be family night,” Jett said lamely. “Wouldn’t I be intruding?” 
“No, because someone invited you,” Sam said, tossing his head in Robin’s direction. “And even if he hadn’t, you’re welcome to join us on the family night out.”
“Oh… you’re going, too?” Jett said, catching Robin’s eye once again. This news changed things. 
Robin gave her a casual grin. “I never pass up Trader Mort’s.” 
Sofia chimed in, “It’s literally the only place all of us agree on. Even the kids, and Robin with his crude taste. That in and of itself should be considered a miracle.” 
Jett knew of Trader Mort’s, a no-expense-spared tiki bar and restaurant that liked to tout itself as more of an “experience” than a mere dining establishment. She herself had never gone, but she’d heard others sing its praises. The founder, James Mortemer, was supposedly descended from some legendary pirate captain and the restaurant apparently hinged heavily on this gimmick.
“Has something for everyone,” Sam put in. “There’s a cool volcano show for the kids, Sofia and I both adore their menu…”
“Separate bar area where Robin can always find a girl to take home,” Sofia finished. 
Jett studiously ignored this comment as she led the boys away to find their coats. 
Moments later, Jett was finishing getting ready herself, and wandered back into the boys’ room. Robin then appeared at the boys’ bedroom door. “Kiddos, you want to go tell your dad you’re ready?” Robin said, knocking on the door frame. 
“Yep!” they cried in unison, running off. 
“You’re coming with me in my car, right?” Robin asked. 
Jett shot back his question with another question. “Because you want me to, or because it’ll piss off Sam?” 
“Nah, that’s boring now. Because I want you to,” Robin said with a grin. 
Jett had to smile. “Okay, you got me, then.” 
They spent the drive in comfortable conversation, and Jett’s heart fluttered when they left the car and approached the restaurant entrance, because of who was accompanying her. 
“Shall we, beautiful?” Robin said lightly, offering Jett his elbow to hold as they walked through the door. 
At dinner, things were generally civil, even as Robin insisted on sitting next to Jett and keeping close to her. The adults made polite small talk, and Mason and Mickey, as children were wont to do, had already long forgotten about “Suck-fia” and had moved on to other things. 
As the meal wound down, Robin nudged Jett. “You know, when those two take the kiddos to watch the volcano show, I bet we could sneak a little time to ourselves,” Robin said in a low voice into Jett’s ear. 
Though Sofia couldn’t hear the words, it was impossible to miss that Robin had leaned in very close to Jett to whisper to her. 
“Jett, tell me you’re not falling for this,” Sofia said with a slight roll of her eyes. “And Robin. Really? Just because you’re in a dating slump doesn’t mean you should be going after her.” 
“What, just going to do a drive-by on me like that? I have a great personality,” Jett said with a hollow laugh in between bites of her dinner. 
Robin glared, all traces of his earlier good mood gone from his face. “There’s nothing wrong with Jett.” Then, softening his expression, he turned back to Jett and asked, “Split one of these desserts with me?” 
Sofia sighed with exasperation and forged ahead. “I meant, you shouldn’t be leading her on, and then subsequently breaking her heart like you so frequently do, and leaving us to deal with the mess. We’ve never had to deal with your dating disasters before; why bring us into this now?” 
“Yes. For goodness’ sake, she’s an integral part of this family, now,” Sam piped up. “You can’t do that to her.” 
Sam had been admonishing Jett to steer clear of Robin ever since the three of them had met. It felt to her as though, even if Sam couldn’t have her himself, he still wanted to be the one that she longed for. 
But could it be that it wasn’t jealousy on Sam’s part, but simply the truth? Jett also remembered back to when she first met Sofia - she, too, had warned Jett that Robin was “a player.” That was the word she had used. 
The entire conversation made Jett let out an audible chuckle. It was the type of nervous laugh that one lets out when they know they’re in deep trouble, and so, one can’t help but simply let out a joyless laugh with a hint of melancholic despair. 
Sam glowered, and then turned towards Robin. “Don’t make her pay for it just because you’re annoyed you can’t get anyone else to fall for your charms right now.” 
“That’s not true,” Robin protested. 
“Fine. Then pick up one of the other beautiful women here tonight. Now. I bet you can’t do it.” 
Sofia raised her eyebrows in slight interest and amusement. She felt that Sam was more bewildered than upset or hurt by the situation. Things had always been handed to him, and, with the tragic exception of the loss of his wife, he’d had little experience in dealing with anything less than Easy Street. Sure, Jett had started the nanny position with an infatuation for Sam, but that was before she had gotten to know everyone better. Jett now wanting Robin instead of him appeared to have short-circuited Sam’s brain. 
“Watch me,” assured Robin belligerently, standing up to begin the search for his quarry. 
Sam couldn’t hold it in any longer. With Robin now gone from their table, he demanded, “Jett, what do you see in that guy?” 
An eight-hour explanation formed in Jett’s mind. “Nothing,” she ultimately said. 
Sam let out another sigh, and pulled out his phone. “Look,” he said. “This was actually an old business partner of Robin’s,” Sam said, scrolling through the phone. He handed the phone over to Jett. It was a multi-part Pictagram post. Swiping through revealed a rant written by an angered woman about how she’d felt “led on” by Robin only to find that their relationship was not what she thought it was. 
Jett skimmed the Pictagram post as Sofia and Sam watched Robin continue to walk around all the various sections of Trader Mort’s - the bar, the dining area, the fire pit, the merchandise booth. He was observing all of the other patrons of the restaurant as carefully as if he were shopping for a house or a car. 
“This was an old girlfriend,” Sam said, navigating to a different Pictagram post showing a scowling woman, followed by a lengthy diatribe of a caption talking about how truly wronged she’d been during their breakup. 
Sam took his phone back, swiped around, and gave it to Jett again, showing another Pictagram post with a different woman. “Girlfriend,” he said. 
“Girlfriend.” Another post, equal amounts of rage and spite in the caption. 
“Aaaaand, girlfriend.” Another post. More rage.
“Sam, you seem like you’re just looking out for me, which is… nice, but totally unnecessary,” Jett ventured cautiously, before a touch of anger seeped into her voice. “And, I mean, did you just already have these pictures ready, or something, just to show me?! All prepared to disparage him like this? You pulled these all out awfully fast.”
“Oh, no, I just searched by the hashtag. It was really easy to find,” Sam said with pure innocence. He showed the last photo again to Jett. Oh. There it was: #fuckrobinflores 
“Oh.” 
“To be perfectly fair, sometimes he just has one-night stands and the women aren’t all that bothered by it. You wouldn’t see those on the hashtag, though, I guess,” Sofia said with a chuckle. “But he hasn’t been getting any dates at all lately. I think that’s why he’s targeting you.” 
“I wouldn’t call it targeting,” Jett insisted. “We’re not exactly… well, you know we’re not together, but I wouldn’t say any of this is one-sided.” 
The conversation was interrupted because Sam noticed that Robin had settled at a standing table. Sam had to hand it to Robin - the girl he picked was absolutely stunning, a tall, slim brunette with a beautiful face. 
Robin had ordered the Poseidon’s Revenge Grog, the most expensive drink that Trader Mort’s offered, which was an elaborate, fruit-topped rum drink served in a carved bowl so massive it could comfortably house several tropical fish. 
Deftly as a master painter crafts their portraits, as a maestro weaves their notes together in a beautiful melody, and as anyone of extraordinary skill in their art wields their talent, Robin demonstrated to his onlookers his effortless skill in flirting. He simply poked two straws into his monstrous Poseidon’s Revenge Grog, pointed one of them at the girl, lowered his chin an inch, and gave her a sultry smile in invitation without so much as a word.  
Sam’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline - he thought he saw the immediate future flashing before his eyes. As the beautiful brunette girl leapt for her straw, and Robin leaned forward for his, Sam saw the inevitable collision course that their respective heads were on and tensed up, bracing himself for two visits to Concussion City. He would have sworn, “There’s nothing anyone could have done.” 
Except Jett wasn’t just anyone. In a lightning-quick motion, Jett lunged for the Poseidon’s Revenge Grog too, and her hand shot out between Robin and the girl, preventing the double head injury. 
“Jett!” Robin exclaimed. 
“Oh my god! Thank you!” cried the girl. “That was almost a disaster!” 
Jett shook out her hand and winced, looking everything like a hero who’d just punched out the bad guy. “I was supposed to be off baby-sitting duty tonight,” she said through gritted teeth, though her tone was light. “The universe decided that this would not be the case.” 
After a few more rounds of “Thank you,” and “Are you okay?!” the girl introduced herself to Robin as Phaedra, and smiled at him. 
Robin mumbled a quick apology to her. “Sorry - keep the Grog, though. I’m headed back to the bar with her, for some ice.” 
“No, I get it, totally. But if you want to hang out sometime - give me your phone?” said Phaedra. 
“Oh. Sure.” Robin placed his hand on Jett’s back as Phaedra typed away, and as soon as she was done, he gave her a quick thanks. 
“See you!” said Phaedra, grabbing the tiki bowl and flouncing away back to her friends. 
Robin led Jett to the bar, where he found an empty bar stool. He cleared his throat and gave a charming smile to someone seated on the next bar stool, and asked with all the confidence of a man who could still score the phone number of a girl he’d almost concussed, “Hey, buddy. You mind?” 
“Not at all,” said the other man, moving one stool over. 
“Thanks,” Jett managed weakly, as the two of them sat side by side and Robin asked the bartender for a bag of ice. 
“What do you say you and I share a much more reasonably sized drink?” Robin asked. 
Jett laughed. “Yeah. Sure. And dessert, too, since that didn’t happen earlier.” 
They sat mostly in silence for a short while, as Jett iced her hand, and awkwardly ate with her non-dominant hand. Jett mumbled an apology as her hand brushed against Robin’s, reaching for their shared drink. They had decided on a Damnation, a mixture of light and dark rums and fruit juices served in a ceramic mug in the shape of a piranha. It was, as Robin had suggested, a much more reasonably sized concoction. 
“I’m really uncoordinated with this hand,” she joked.
In response, Robin closed his hand around her uninjured one. “Jett?” he said softly. 
“Yeah?” 
“You can trust me,” Robin said with an unusual sincerity. 
For a moment, Jett debated feigning innocence and asking, “About what?” 
She couldn’t decide what to say for several more minutes, but eventually settled on “Yeah. I want to.” 
When Robin and Jett returned to the others, they were then standing at the miniature volcano display waiting for the show to start. Sam had a triumphant look on his face. It dawned on Jett that this was a win-win situation for him: either Robin couldn’t pick anyone up and Sam would force him to admit that he only wanted Jett because he’d been in a dating slump, or, he did score some other girl’s number, and well - he would have scored the number of a girl who wasn’t Jett. It was as though Sam wanted to somehow prove that Robin couldn’t ever take her seriously. If Jett were to ask Sam, he would probably tell her that he would treat her like royalty - never mind the fact that he was engaged to someone else - while Robin would treat her like a customer at a delicatessen. “Now serving number five-oh-eight.” 
Jett could see herself understanding why Sam would think that. But Robin… Robin had asked her to trust him. 
“I hate to say I told you so…” Sam began. 
“Then don’t,” Jett snapped. 
“Well, it seems this was to be expected. All of us always have a good time when we come to Trader Mort’s,” Sofia said flippantly. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose, Robin. Enjoy your date with what’s-her-name.” 
“Mickey, Mason, look above you!” Sam interjected. 
As the boys marveled over the animatronics display descending from the ceiling - which Jett had to admit was actually pretty cool - she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Robin giving her a small smile, and holding up his phone screen for her to see. It showed the name Phaedra, followed by her phone number. Her contact name was accompanied by a bunch of heart emojis, a sort of digital age equivalent of kissing one’s lipstick to a napkin and writing “Call me!” 
Wordlessly, Robin made a bit of a show out of displaying the screen to Jett as he pressed “Delete contact.” 
He tossed the phone into his pocket. 
Lights began to flash and fog filled the room, and the Trader Mort’s crew started chanting. Jett’s hand slipped into Robin’s as the two of them watched the volcano erupt while the crowd cheered.  
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felixnation · 4 years
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THE TOP 10 WORST KPOP SONGS OF 2020
(WARNING: I DON’T LIKE THESE SONGS AND WILL BE MEAN AT THEM. I DO NOT HAVE ANY PERSONAL BEEF WITH ANY OF THESE GROUPS OR ARTISTS SO DON’T COME FOR ME IF YOUR FAVE MADE A STINKER TRACK THIS YEAR.)
Ah, 2020. The year where disco came back, the 80s came back, and everyone was titling their songs after nonsense words. It was a good year for k-pop overall, with a lot of new trends entering the game towards the end of summer. However, there were some real clunkers that refused to get out of my head this quarantine and pissed me off to varying degrees each time I heard them. This list is an attempt to chronicle all of those.
So without further ado, let’s get this shit done.
HONORABLE MENTIONS:
NCT 127 - PUNCH This isn't actually a bad song, hence it only making it to the honorable mentions section. In fact, I think this could've easily made the best list had it not been for one thing, and that's the presence of NCT 127, namely their rap line. The instrumental on this thing is absolutely killer and one of the best productions to come out of SM in a long time. The entire thing is bizarrely structured and incredibly gutsy, and therefore I think it's a travesty that an instrumental this incredible was drowned in ASMR-esque whispers and EYYYY WE BALLINs. There are a few salvageable sections, namely the first post-chorus, and we see glimmers of NCT 127's true potential, should they choose to explore this sound further.
CIGNATURE - NUN NU NAN NA Similar to Punch, I admire the production choices here - there are a few sections that blast you with 100gecs-esque womps, and that's always something I enjoy. The vast majority of the song rarely dips below decent territory, but since the entire thing hinges on the titular hook, it ends up falling apart right when it needs to bring the hype the most. I mean, building a hook around those notes was...an interesting choice, I guess. It reminds me a lot of fromis_9's FUN!, which also constructed the entire song around a terrible set of notes. Listen to them yell that hook at you and tell me it doesn't sound off. Most frustrating song of 2020.
ONG SEONG WU - GRAVITY Have you ever heard a drop this weak? I sure haven't. I hate the way he says DIVING INTO YOUR LOVE, the over-enunciation kills me and there's one syllable too many. Also, thanks Ong Seong Wu for giving CRAVITY the promo they deserve.
BTS - FLY TO MY ROOM I can't relax while listening to this, the beat is so sparse and has this nauseous sway to it that really makes me feel like I'm reliving these past 9 months of quarantine all over again. And just like quarantine, it really feels like this goddamn thing never ends. That final set of choruses is really a chore to get through, and I'm not the only one who thinks so - shout out to Taehyung for serving taste and I'm sorry Jimin convinced you to sing out of your natural range yet again.
TREASURE - MMM Ew.
I*ZONE - FIESTA It's a pretty standard girl group song up until that chorus hits and oh my god, who on earth produced this? Are they actively trying to trigger my psychosis? There are so many sounds happening that it feels like three or four demo tracks laid on top of each other, it makes me confused even trying to figure out what's going on here. And that post-chorus drop is horrendous, it's like the instrumental is literally screaming into my ear STREAM BLOOM*IZ!!! STREAM BLOOM*IZ YOU DUMB CUCK!!! YOU LOVE IT!!!
NOW FOR THE REAL LIST.
#10: TAEYEON - HAPPY
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I do not like this. Taeyeon has one of the most powerful voices in the industry and instead of putting it to good use, she decided to put out the musical equivalent of eating a stick of butter. Bland, horrible texture, seems to go on forever and ever, you know you shouldn't be consuming it and you don't know why you're doing this to yourself, etc.
The MV contributed to my dislike, with Taeyeon whitewashed all the way into uncanny valley as she lounges around her beautiful apartment. Well of course you'd be happy if you lived in a place like that, I know I would. The sad thing is that there's some really nice vocal work here and there, but for the majority of the song, Taeyeon decides to serenade us in the most nasal tone that she can muster. I know she can sing better than this, and I'm disappointed in her for creating this and unleashing it on the world.
#9: WEKI MEKI - OOPSY
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Whereas Picky Picky was annoying in the best way possible, Oopsy is annoying in the worst way possible. The instrumental legitimately sounds cheap, the drums sound so tinny and artificial that it's hard on the ears. Not to mention the hook, wherein the girls force their voices as high as they can go as they proclaim OOPSY! 
I'm a huge fan of cute concepts, but when it comes to putting out a high-energy sugary track like this, you're walking a fine line between adorable and irritating. Weki Meki didn't even try to walk the line, they just dove headfirst into irritating territory without a care in the world. It literally feels like the audio equivalent of having to hold a whiny toddler and then it pisses itself and the mom is just cooing about how her little darling made an oopsy.
#8: VICTON - MAYDAY
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It feels like for most of the year, the vast majority of boy groups were stuck in a rut, knee-deep in sludgy EDM and leather harnesses. You know the songs I'm talking about, and I could've put any one of them here, but I chose this one purely because that chorus makes me feel like I have a concussion. I don't like this song nor the trend it's representative of - I spent most of quarantine having the same dark BG concepts thrown at me over and over and I'm glad things are starting to take a bit of a turn.
The bridge on this is actually pretty great, and the guys in VICTON do know how to sing, as can be seen in the final post-chorus. But man, there's just nothing fresh being brought to the table here, just the same stale trends in their worst form yet. The hook is so slow and drowsy, the same few notes just repeated over and over. I have not seen the MV because I feel like I can picture it well enough in my head just by listening. Are there harnesses? Don't forget those, boys.
#7: MCND - SPRING
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Only Pentagon are allowed to do these concepts.
#6: HYO, LOOPY, SOYEON - DESSERT
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This is genuinely unlistenable as soon as the drop hits, with a vocal stitching job that might be a horn synth, I'm not sure. That's how annoying it is. The producer is clearly incompetent and the performers are oozing with personality, though not the pleasant sort. The hook is  bratty and the raps here are beyond generic. After the halfway point, there are a couple interesting sounds thrown into the mix, but it's not enough to save things.   
Soyeon in particular sounds awful here, with her iconic nasally tone morphing into something genuinely irritating and borderline spiteful. Age up the toddler from the Oopsy comparison to around 7 or 8 and that's basically what you've got here. All I can hope is that this song is not influential in any way, shape or form, because I just had a vision of Blackpink imitating this production style and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
#5: SECRET NUMBER - WHO DIS?
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I'm not sure how many Secret Number fans are out there, but I'm about to make all of em real mad at me right about now. However, it must be said.
This is basically Your Turn by Kaachi again.
I don't think I need to explain that hot take, just listen to the song. It's surprisingly amateurish, to the point where I feel like the vocals aren't in sync and they just used the first take they got from each girl. The raps in particular are awful, and I swear they even sound like they go off-key a couple of times. How this blew up in any aspect is bizarre to me. Anyways, stream Photo Magic and stan Kaachi.
#4: BAEKHYUN - CANDY
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Did you want a k-pop version of Yummy by Justin Bieber? No? Well, Baekhyun decided to make it anyways! At least Yummy was sort of funny in how bad it is, this is just...a somber affair. Inexplicably, he manages to oversing the final third of the song, which I don't get the point of, but okay. Lazy, underproduced and overproduced at the same time, bland, boring, annoying...
Wait, did he just say...
Okay, I changed my mind, this is hysterical. Like Pop rocks, strawberry, bubble gum...
#3: (G)-IDLE - DUMDI DUMDI
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I'm so sick of this group's 'ethnic' schtick, it's like they never learn. They just don't give a fuck - after a string of genuinely great tracks like Hann, Lion, and Oh My God, they just decide to put out this shit and expect me to listen to it? They're a group with a lot of potential, with some brilliant vocalists and the talent that is Soyeon (who really loves being on this list, apparently) but if they continue down the path of using different cultures as concepts I can't support them any further.
The song itself has salvageable parts, a recurring theme on this list, but the over-the-top tribal influences are so obvious and tropey that even listening to it feels gross. (G)-Idle have more creative control than most groups, and the fact that they're capable of creating works of art like Lion is what makes me harsh on them. Instead of moving forward, they continue to regress into their comfort zone of cultural appropriation.
#2 YOOA - BON VOYAGE
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Speaking of cultural appropriation...are we gonna address this? Nah? Okay.
Oh My Girl, YooA's parent group, has a history of blatant cultural appropriation (and arguably some legit racist moments depending on how you look at it) and they seem like they're not changing anytime soon. That's why this particular song stings even more than it probably should. If you thought Dumdi Dumdi's tribal influences were a little too on the nose, take a listen to this chorus.
YooA has a bad voice, is wearing tribal face paint, and is running around the wilderness whitewashed into oblivion while a choir of nameless voices chant vaguely tribal things behind her. Even in an industry like k-pop, this sticks out as something in bafflingly poor taste, and I can't see how she got away with this in 2020.
#1 BLACKPINK & SELENA GOMEZ - ICE CREAM
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Well, this is a predictable pick. 
I don't know why or how Blackpink thought they could get away with drip-feeding blinks content for 4 goddamn years in the lead-up to their first album, only to drop this big fat clunker on them. I honestly felt insulted by the song, from its cheap, tinny production to the god-awful lyrics. I don't know how anyone could find any value in a piece of music this soulless and hollow.
Lisa's raps are by far the worst part of it, with FIRE BARS such as "you're the one been chosen, play the part like moses" and "mona lisa kinda lisa". Unfortunately, these raps take up a good portion of the song, and there's nothing going on in the instrumental to distract you from them, save for that little ice cream truck jingle. (or at least I think that's what the producer was going for)
Selena is a non-presence and essentially blends in with the girls, who WAIL that awful hook like their lives depend on it. Also, there's some really cheesy innuendos here that're sung with all the sex appeal of the actual ice cream truck driver from literally your neighborhood. 
I loathe what this song represents - the only good thing about it is that the girls look stunning in the MV. And that's exactly the thing - this song represents the exact moment in time wherein Blackpink admitted to their audience that music is no longer their main focus. This is the peak of their influencer-ization, and only time will tell if they'll redeem themselves. (Spoiler: They sort of did, goddammit.)
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hell-much · 5 years
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For @twentysixthpercent prompt - 37. you jokingly suggest we send out holiday cards together as friends so we do, and now everyone is congratulating us for finally getting together
I had a lot fun with this, and added a social media twist. Hope that is okay :)  Thank you for the prompt! Enjoy the read!
----
Margaery blinked her eyes open and closed them again only half a second later, wishing desperately she could go back to the blessed state of being passed-out. Her body was not generous enough to grant her that relief, instead more and more discomforts worked itself into her mind. 
Her head was pounding a bit more with every thought, her mouth felt dry as sandpaper, and she thought she could taste the remains of red wine and something sugary. The lingering taste not helping along with nausea that enwrapped her entire existence.
A body shifted beneath with a groan. That, along with the sound of a hand tapping on the surface of the couch table, brought her attention to what woke her in the first place. 
"Shut up," Sansa whined pitifully, the obnoxious alarm sound of a phone coming physically closer, letting Margaery feel like her head would explode any minute. 
The silence that followed when Sansa, at last, managed to turn it off was nothing sort of divine. Margaery's body relaxed back into … well, it did not feel like her bed. 
Reluctantly she blinked her eyes back open, discovering her suspicion to be true. She was not in her bed, but instead on the living room couch. Half of her body was on top of Sansa, the other half squished between Sansa and the backrest. 
When searching her mind for an explanation of why she was here, and why she felt like dying, the memory of the previous night returned slow.
What she could see of the living room was chaotic. Remains of wrapping paper and ribbons were spread everywhere over the floor. Three empty bottles of wine lined up on the couch table, along with empty glasses, two cups and plates with half-eaten cookies. The half-empty bottle of gingerbread liquor had her stomach do a small turn, and she squeezed her eyes back shut before she could give the still glowing lights on the Christmas tree a proper examination. 
She buried her face into the warm darkness that the crook of Sansa's neck offered, bringing along a pitiful noise of discomfort. 
"Ditto," was all that Sansa muttered back, as she cuddled into the embrace, and brushed a hand through Margaery's curls. 
That certainly had escalated.
When she'd gotten home from work last night, the living room had already resembled a Christmas workshop. She'd found Sansa sitting on the floor, amidst various half-wrapped presents, shipping bags with all kinds of Christmas decorations and a cup of eggnog. 
Ugh. The eggnog. 
Margaery had known that Sansa felt homesick more than ever with not being able to go home for the holidays this year, but she'd had not expected that it would manifest in such sheer blind holiday activism; like the fir tree set up next to their TV or the smell of Christmas cookies hanging in the air, along with Christmas songs blasting through the speakers. 
Any other year Margaery was not someone who placed too much importance on Christmas. In the past, when still living alone, she'd barely bothered with more than one or two items of decoration, and maybe, if she had felt really festive, couple of light strings here and there. Unsurprisingly it had not taken more than Sansa cheerfully smiling at her and gushing about all she had planned to make their place more festive and Margaery had been infected with the holiday spirit. 
She'd quickly declared the decoration of the tree as her duty, simply because if she had to look at one in the middle of her living room, she refused it to be an eyesore. She trusted Sansa's taste any other day, but not in this level of enthusiasm; there were several multi-coloured packs of lametta within her shopping bags. 
The first bottle of wine -after they had finished the eggnog- had been, much to her dismay now, Margaery's idea. 
The second one had followed once the tree was beautifully decorated, and most of the presents were wrapped. 
Things got a bit blurry around the third one, but she did recall Santa hats, some dancing and singing along to Christmas songs, and an extensive amount of Christmas cookies. 
Sometime after that, somewhere during their drunken musings about Christmas and how it could never come back to the magic it had held during their childhood, they must have dozed off on the couch. 
Trying to recall all of that, was as much activity as Margaery found herself capable off and gratefully her body did grant her some more sleep.
When she woke again, it was already dusk outside, an indicator that she must have slept into the late afternoon. So much for productivity on her Saturday off. 
The worst of the headache seemed to have vanished, for now, only the dryness of her mouth and her queasy stomach prevailed. So much, that her need for a sip of water became stronger than her wish not to move. 
She detangled herself from a still sound-asleep Sansa and sat on the other end of the spacious couch running a hand through tangled hair and over still heavy eyes, feeling slightly dizzy sitting upright. 
Gods. No more drinking had just moved to the very top of her list for new year's resolutions. 
She dragged her way into the kitchen, and when she took the first sip of ice-cold water, she swore to never have tasted anything better in her life. 
Retrieving a second bottle for Sansa out of the fridge she made her way back to the living room, finding Sansa, now also awake, shifted up on the couch with her head propped against the armrest. 
Margaery held out the bottle in a wordless compassionate smile, that broadened to a small smirk when Sansa reached for it eagerly. 
"I love you so much right now," Sansa exclaimed in a groan, greedily drinking the fresh water. 
Margaery sat down on the armrest next to Sansa's head and emptied half the contains of her own bottle. 
She ran a hand through tousled red hair. "How are you feeling, darling?"
Screwing the cap on a half-empty bottle, Sansa made a face as she glanced up at Margaery. "I am never drinking with you again."
"I'm never drinking with myself again, either."
She looked around the disorder of the room. She could not be bothered right now, even if the type-A side of her personality was appalled by it. 
"I will go take a shower," she announced, getting back to her feet. After sleeping in her clothes, she wanted nothing more than get out of them as quickly as possible, yearned to feel clean again. "How about some nice greasy hangover take-out later?"
"Yes, please," Sansa returned with an enthusiastic nod. 
The shower rejoiced Margaery's spirits a good deal. She retrieved from the bathroom a good forty minutes later in a fresh pair of sweats and an old KLU shirt; her wet hair wrapped into a towel. 
It appeared that Sansa had used the time to take care of most of the chaos already, or at least, transfer it out of sight into the kitchen. 
Margaery plopped down on the couch, turning on her now recharged phone. "Any particular cravings?," she called out to Sansa who was rummaging around in her bedroom. 
"I would murder for Advarks' right now," Sansa's voice sounded through the half-opened door; a moment later she emerged, hair freshly brushed and wearing a bathrobe. "If that aligns with your own cravings."
"I would have reconsidered living with you if you'd suggested anything else," Margaery shot back, typing her PIN into her phone. 
"Will you get me a… ham and-"
"Ham and mushrooms, with extra mozzarella," Margaery deadpanned her standard order. "Brownie for dessert too?"
Sansa smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Is that a serious question?"
Margaery smirked at the roll of Sansa's eyes that was flung her direction before she disappeared behind the bathroom door. 
The same smirk melted into confusion, when, as wanting to dial the number of their favourite pizza place, notification after notification popped up on her phone. Her stomach dropped. Wasn't that just the last thing you wanted to wake up to after a night of drinking. 
Fifteen notifications from Instagram, eight unread messages and three missed calls. 
Always someone to rip off the band-aid quickly, Margaery tapped on the Instagram notifications, breathing an initial chuckle of relief when instead of some embarrassing picture or video exposing their drunken exertions. Instead, she found a selfie of herself and Sansa, wearing their Santa heads and posing in front of their Christmas tree. Their level of intoxication not visible at first glance.
She did remember that. They had actually gotten out the impulsively bought Selfie-Stick to get a decent photo of them and their tree. The one she'd -evidently- ended up posting was one where Sansa was smiling brightly into the camera, while she was pressing a kiss to her cheek; the lights and decorations of the tree lining the background. 
Her smirk broadened when she read the caption.
margaerytyrell Happy Holidays to all of our loved ones from Sansa and Margaery! 🎄 #makingitofficial #ourchristmastreeisprettierthanyourchristmastree #soblessedtobecelebratingwiththisone 
The relief once again drained away and replaced by freshly blooming irritation when she scrolled down to the comment section. 
dany.targ Cuties 💕Merry Christmas to you too! 😘
starkbrandon About time you two make it official!  arya.st Right?! @jon1310 Pay up. 
robbstark @san.stark 🤔 😏 So that's the reasons you are skipping Christmas at home?
jeyne.isthebest Fucking finally!!!!! 🙏 🙏 🙏 Want to hear all the details when I come back!
thereallorastyrell Congratulations you two! Happy the veil of obliviousness fell at last. arya.st @thereallorastyrell It was getting painful to watch. thereallorastyrell Gods yes.
c.tully-stark What great news! You two make an adorable couple, I am delighted that things worked out for you. 😘
brienne.of.t Congratulations and happy holidays!
stmya* Merry Christmas! 🎅 Enjoy your first holiday as a couple!
etyrell Insanely happy for the two of you! 💗 😘 Happy Holidays!
THE.greyjoy 🤨 You two. Together… 🤯 is more than my poor brain can handle. 🤤😏 yara.greyj @THE.greyjoy Don't be a creep. @san.stark @margaerytyrell Congrats you two!
baratheon.renly Could not ask for a better girlfriend for my favorite sister-in-law. 
Margaery did not know whether to laugh or to be horrified. What the fuck was happening here? So much for last night escalating. 
She scrolled back up and looked at the picture again. 
Fine, yes. Out of context, it could appear like something a couple posted. The caption did perhaps not help that impression along. But both she and Margaery had dozens of pictures like that on their phones. 
The way their friends and families -dear gods, Sansa's mom- commented sounded like… like what even? Like this was something everyone had just been waiting for to be announced? Like they had been unofficially dating?
It was ridiculous. Sansa was her friend. Her best friend. Her roommate for almost a year now. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, and maybe Margaery did have—
Automatically, Margaery swiped across the screen, finding that the missed calls were from Loras, as were the majority of the unread messages. 
Loras Tyrell, 08:43 I am disappointed Marg. I would have at least expected a personal revelation of this new development. 😪
Loras Tyrell, 09:20 So that you are not answering lets me suspect that you have better things to do? 🙄
Loras Tyrell, 09:21 Still mad at you btw that I had to find out along with everyone else. 😑 I thought our bond was more special, Marg. Also. I do literally live around the corner.
Loras Tyrell, 11:24 Just so you know, I am dying for details. Not that I ever doubted you, but landing Sansa Stark for sure is an accomplishment.
Loras Tyrell, 13:07 MARGAERY! ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ Sister of mine! Come up from between your girlfriends' legs and answer me.
Loras Tyrell, 14:02 You know… I had never known you as someone who just abandons everyone else for their s/o.
Loras Tyrell, 14:40 But what do you know… looks like you are THAT person. Again. Disappointed. 😶
While still contemplating, how to hell to get a hold of this mess, Lora's name popped up on her screen with an incoming call. 
She glanced quickly towards the bathroom where she could hear water running, then got to her feet and went into the kitchen, where she answered the call. 
"Hey."
"She has risen from the dead!," Loras exclaimed, way too cheerful considering her hangover and confusion; the way he said it she could not be sure he was talking to her or making an announcement in the room he was in. "Or risen from post-orgasmic bliss?"
Margaery leaned back against the kitchen counter, and the fingers of her free hand came to her temple, where she felt her headache from before resurfacing. "You got everything entirely wrong."
"No orgasm then?"
"No orgasm, or sex," Margaery hissed quietly into the phone. 
"I guess the two of you taking it slow should not surprise me," Loras quipped back. 
"There is nothing to—We are—," she took a deep breath, wrapping an arm around her middle. "This is all a huge misunderstanding."
Like always, he picked up on her upset tone immediately, dropping his teasing in the same breath. "What's going on, Marg? Is everything okay?"
"No," she breathed out. 
"Tell me what has happened?," he asked gently. 
Margaery turned to the window and brushed some remaining cookie crumbs off the counter. 
What had happened was that everyone assumed she and Sansa were dating. 
"That Instagram post," she still did not know how to put it in words. "All those comments... Why would everyone just assume Sansa and I are a couple?"
She could hear the smirk returning to her brother's face. "Eh, because we have watched you dance around each other for months now?"
"No." Margaery quickly shook her head. "There has been no dancing around. We are friends."
"Clueless lesbians is what you are," Loras deadpanned.
"Loras."
"Clueless bisexuals then," he joked, lightly while she felt more and more impatient. 
"We had a couple of drinks last night," Margaery explained. "We took that picture for fun. As friends. Nothing beyond that happened."
The line went quiet for so long that Margaery wondered if they had been cut off. When Loras spoke again, she wished the line had gone dead. 
"But you do like her?"
"That's not the point," she gave back quietly. 
"It's precisely the point."
He was infuriating when he knew he was right, and this time she remained silent, staring outside to where the sun had almost disappeared for the day. A knot formed itself in her gut when she thought of all the people assuming that they were a couple now. 
Yes, of course, she found was attracted to Sansa. One would have to be blind not to be. And perhaps she had the tiniest bit of a crush on her, but Sansa had not shown the slightest hint that she reciprocated that. It felt humiliating that so many other people had picked up on the feelings she harboured for her. 
The thought of having to clear up this misunderstanding made her want to sink into the ground at this very moment. 
"She likes you too, you know?" Loras surged ahead cautiously when a minute had passed without a single word from her. 
Margaery closed her eyes and swallowed the knot that had moved from her stomach to her throat back down. "She doesn't." A beat. "How would you even know that?"
"Because I have eyes," he returned, his tone somewhere between patronizing and exasperated. "And obviously I am not alone. For Gods' sake, we have bets running when you two fools will get to your senses."
"Really?" She hated how little and meek her voice sounded. 
"Did you notice how not a single person commenting seemed surprised?"
Margaery felt her heart rate pick up; the queasy feeling had returned to her stomach, only it had become of an different quality. Still, the nervousness and the reluctance did not magically disappear. 
"What if you're wrong?"
Loras laughed. "I'm not wrong. In fact, I'm never wrong." 
Gods, was she crazy enough to consider this? 
But what other options did she have? The stupid post was out there, along with all the reactions and congratulations from their families and friends; even deleting it would not make a difference at this point. 
"You've been wrong plenty of times," she shot back at him. "And if you are wrong with this; if she doesn't like me back, you better know that I am moving in with you and that I am taking your—"
Margaery didn't get any further, stopped in her twirling around, her free hand subtly reaching out for the kitchen counter for some much-needed balance. She found herself face to face with Sansa; still in her bathrobe, by the looks of it un-showered, her phone clutched in her right hand and the most adorable blush on her cheeks. 
"Stop being dramatic, Marg. You are acting like it's the first time you tell a girl you like her." Loras' voice was still sounding out of the speaker, pressed against her ear and in the silence in the kitchen, Margaery felt like Sansa had to be able to hear every single word. 
"I'll call you back," she told him curtly, ending the call and disposing the phone on the kitchen counter; not taking her eyes off of Sansa. 
Sansa was smiling and… damn it; being right about this was something Loras would never let her live down. 
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