#so i just poured a whole lot of cranberry juice in there

[kiatheinsomniac]

on a similar note: name a better combo than vodka and writing. I'll wait.

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby

The Interview

“Hello everyone! I’m at studio 151 in Manhattan’s East Village and I’m with the amazing (y/f/n) (y/l/n)” Seth meyers introduced you.

“Hi!” You flashed a smile at the camera.

“And in honor of her tour we are going to do a celebratory shot.” You clinked your glasses together before throwing back the shot. “This is day drinking with Seth and (y/f/n)!”

Seth situated himself behind the bar as you sat on a bar stool in front of him. The camera crew, writers, Veronica, Rosie, (y/bff/n), and Auston all stood off to the side behind the camera.

Seth invited you to do his infamous day drinking segment which you happily jumped at the opportunity. Rosie didn’t love the idea of you getting drunk on camera, but after lots of begging and bribing she finally agreed. However, she did insist on coming along to keep you in line.

“You are about to go overseas for your tour so I figured there’s no better way to send you off than drinking.” Seth kicked off the conversation leaning his forearms on the bar.

You laughed, “That’s a perfect idea.”

“I’m going to make you various drinks based on your songs and you will rate them.” Seth explained while lining up multiple liquors.

“Okay, I’m nervous.” You admitted sheepishly looking at the options he brought out. “I feel like we shouldn’t be mixing all of these together.”

“Oh we definitely shouldn’t.” Seth agreed while setting out two glasses. You both laughed as he began mixing together the first drink.

“The first drink is called the wild drink inspired by your hit, Wildest Dreams.” Seth finished the drink by pouring in a generous amount of tequila, “the secret to this drink is that you’re just mixing a bunch of shit together and hoping for the best.”

You laughed nodding along, “That sounds super safe.”

“Yes!” He cheered handing you one of the glasses, “a wild drink for wild dreams.”

“Cheers.” You tapped your glasses together before downing the drink. The liquid burned your throat, but you finished it setting the empty glass down.

“That was awful.” You giggled. “I give it a 3/10.”

“Our next drink contains 7 different types of liquor based off your song, 7 rings.” You watched as Seth poured more than a shot of seven different types of liquor in two glasses.

“Is there anything besides alcohol in this drink?” You asked already questioning your choice to do the segment.

“No.” Seth deadpanned making you both laugh again, “So you told me earlier before we started filming that you wanted to go to Magiano’s for dinner.” You nodded recalling the conversation you had when you first arrived to the bar. Magiano’s was a popular and expensive Italian restaurant in the upper East side. “Well if you finish your whole drink, I’ll pay for your dinner tonight.”

“Deal.” You immediately agreed. After shaking hands you began chugging.

The only thing worse than being drunk on camera would be throwing up on camera so you forced yourself to breath through your nose as you finished the drink.

“I’m going to be drunk before we even get to the games part of this interview.” You giggled placing your empty glass on the bar.

“That is the goal,” Seth responded struggling to finish his drink as well, “We want to get you as drunk as possible.”

“It’s definitely working.” The aftertaste burned your throat and wasn’t sitting right in your stomach. “That’s a -2/10.”

“You told me your favorite drink is a vodka cran, so in honor of your song Mixed Signals, I’ll be making you a simple mixed drink.”

You silently said a thank you prayer for the slight break. Your cheeks were starting to heat up and your body was feeling lighter, two signs of your impending drunkenness.

You hoped the next drink would be mainly cranberry juice, but watching as Seth generously poured the vodka followed by a splash of cranberry you knew that wasn’t the case. He popped a straw in each before sliding your glass across the bar to you.

You watched as he chugged the drink finishing it in 5 seconds. Not wanting to ruin your streak you followed also chugging your drink down. “8/10.”

“So our first game is similar to truth or drink, but we call it shot or silent, based on your song, silent. We will go back and forth asking each other questions and you either answer or take a shot.” Seth explained to both you and the camera.

You nodded glancing down at the shot glasses in front of you, “got it. Can I ask the first question?”

“Go for it.” Seth encouraged.

You giggled reading the card to yourself first before reading it aloud, “Do you think you are the best late night tv host?”

“I’m self absorbed so of course I think so.” Seth shrugged reaching down for his stack of cards.

“First question for you, Do you have a favorite hockey team?”

“Wow you really are just going right for it.” You laughed.

“Listen I have a team of writers.” Seth clarified throwing his hands up in defense. “this is all them, I’m just asking.”

You decided now was as good as anytime to just start hinting at it. “The Toronto maple leafs.”

“Good answer.”

“You have three kids, who’s your favorite?” You asked reading off of the card before setting it down on the bar.

Seth picked up a shot glass before saying, “I love all of them equally.”

He downed the liquid, slamming the glass down on the bar before picking up his cards to ask you the next question.

“Craziest thing you’ve ever done on a plane?”

“I’m not answering that.” You immediately responded picking up a shot.

“She’s not answering but you guys, her boyfriend is standing behind the camera so we could just ask him.”

“Don’t you dare.” You threatened throwing back the shot. You glanced over your shoulder at Auston who sent you a wink. You’re already warm body heated up even more.

“Next, I’m going to show you pictures of yourself and if you can tell me where you were, I’ll take a shot. If you can’t, you take a shot.”

The first picture he holds up of you includes you in a deep green evening gown.

“That was at the met gala.”

“Damn.” He picks up a shot finishing it off before holding up the next photo. It’s you on the Grammy’s red carpet.

“The Grammy’s.”

The next picture was a paparazzi one of you walking down a street in a casual outfit. They cropped it so you couldn’t see any landmarks to help you out.

“That could literally be anywhere.” You looked closer trying to remember the outfit, “Maybe in LA leaving the studio.”

“Incorrect.” Seth smiled looking relieved to not have to drink for once, “This is a photo of you in Toronto.”

“Damn.” You mumbled taking the shot. You looked closely at the next image he held up.

“Oh that is me leaving a show!” You instantly recognized your outfit as one you’ve worn on tour, but you couldn’t remember which venue. “Ugh if I don’t get this it’s going to haunt me.”

“Just take a guess you have a very small chance of getting it right.” Seth joked.

“Maybe Red Rocks amphitheater?” You guessed biting down on the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

“You are…” Seth held the pause, dragging out the answer, “Incorrect!”

You groaned placing your head on the bar, “This is you leaving Madison Square Garden.”

“Oh my gosh I should’ve gotten that! I’m sorry everyone who attended that show. You were memorable my outfit obviously wasn’t.” You looked into the camera and held up your shot following your toast and downed it.

At this point you couldn’t remember how many shots you’ve taken, but you were way past your limit. The alcohol was hitting and you were getting loose lipped and giggly. You were already chatty without alcohol, but once you got drunk you definitely loved to yap and lately your favorite thing to talk about was Auston.

You left Toronto to visit your parents home for a few days before you came to New York to do this interview . Auston didn’t join, opting to just meet you in New York. One night while home you got drunk with your family. Your sister recorded you as you blabbered on and on to your aunts about how good of a boyfriend Auston was. You threw in that you would never tell him that because it would make his ego way too big and that even though you were dating it was still your job to chirp him in order to keep him humble.

The next picture Seth held up was you again in a fairly casual outfit, but one thing did stick out. The maple leafs hat on your head. You took a closer look and even though they tried to crop it you could tell you were holding someone’s hand.

“This is me at scotiabank arena.”

“Correct.” Seth groaned placing down the picture, “Double or nothing whose hand are you holding?” He had a new found sense of enthusiasm and a glint in his eye.

“I’m holding one of my best friends hands, her name’s Steph.”

You thought back to that night that you and Steph decided to drive to a game together. The traffic wasn’t bad, parking was easy and everything was good until you were going in. You decided to go in through the back thinking it would cause the least amount of chaos, but of course, somehow the paparazzi was one step ahead of you and already camped out back.

You were already on edge because of the commotion that was to come when you stepped foot into the arena, so having it start before you even got in made your heart jump into your throat.

You didn’t even realize you were gripping the steering wheel until you felt Steph’s hand on top of yours, “Hey, I’m going to be with you the whole way.”

“Fuck you.” Seth chirped getting ready to take two shots of vodka back to back.

You laughed, “I’ll take one and you take one.”

You did a cheers and drank the alcohol.

“Okay, cut!” The director shouted. “Great job everyone let’s take a 30 minute lunch break.”

You stood up from your chair and immediately steadied yourself against the bar. You were way more drunk than you thought.

“You okay?” Seth asked, joking long gone and only concern in his voice.

“Yeah, Im just going to go to the bathroom.” You closed your eyes for a moment before turning slowly and making a beeline straight for the bathroom. You went in the first stall you saw and sat down next to the toilet afraid you were going to throw up at any moment.

You weren’t sure how long you were in there, but you heard a soft knock followed by your name. Looking under the stall you confirmed it was Auston by his shoes.

You pushed yourself off the ground just enough to unlock the stall door. You slumped back down and Auston followed suit.

“You good?”

“I’m fine.” You waved off his concern.

“Are you sure? Because you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“Yeah, Im just tired.” You hated the way your words slurred slightly together giving you away. “We’ve been up all day.”

“You know it’s okay to admit you’re drunk.” Auston’s usual smirk irritated you even more because he was right.

“I’m not drunk.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, “you’re hammered.”

He dodged the swat that was aimed at his chest and laughed as he watched you completely slump into his chest. “I just want to lay down for a little.”

“You are not lying down on this floor.”

“Fine.” You huffed pushing yourself off his chest. You underestimated your own strength because your push made you hit the back of your head off the bathroom stall.

“Ow!” You whined.

“Yeah you’re totally sober.” Auston mocked.

“Shut up, Matthews.” You flipped him off with the hand that wasn’t rubbing that back of your head. Your pouting didn’t last long as you became tired once again, but this time you didn’t fight it. You don’t know when you fell asleep but the next thing you heard was Auston’s voice.

“Come on, baby.” Auston picked you up from the bathroom floor.

“I’m…” your words came out slow as you struggled to put into words what you were thinking. “I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened!” Rosie’s voice was piercing.

“She’s drunk.” Auston didn’t even try to hide his irritation with her.

“Obviously.” Rosie shouted, “Thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

“Rosie relax. She’s drunk, not dead.” Your best friend attempted to cool the situation.

“It’s easy for you to say, you aren’t the one who has to do damage control.” She bit back. “This is your fault.”

“Mine?” Auston’s tone went up an octave. “I didn’t make her do this.”

“You encouraged her.”

“Correct. Because she’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah and you’re such a great boyfriend.” Auston let out a deep sigh through his nose choosing to ignore the comment.

“Are you going to keep blaming me or move so I can put her in the car?”

Rosie side stepped crossing her arms over her chest. Auston gently placed you in the car before closing the door.

“You’re new to all of this, so let me explain something. We all have a role to play in her world so I suggest you learn yours.”

“Oh I know my role very well, maybe you should learn it too because I’m not going anywhere.” Auston threw back mirroring her stance.

“She should’ve never started dating you.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to go do my role and take care of my girlfriend. I suggest you do yours and start ‘damage control’” Auston didn’t wait for a reply as he opened the car door sliding in next to you. He allowed your head to fall into his lap.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“You’re fine, just close your eyes.” Auston encouraged running his fingers through your hair.

You slept the rest of the car ride, the only time you opened your eyes was when you felt yourself being lifted from the car and carried inside. Auston instantly shushed you as you attempted to tell him to put you down and told you to go back to sleep.

You opened your eyes again when you were placed on the bed, but once again Auston encouraged you to keep them closed, kissing you on the forehead.

When you finally woke up later in the day your first thought was that you wished you hadn’t. Your head was throbbing and your stomach felt like the slightest movement would have you puking.

You rolled over to your other side being greeted by a shirtless Auston. The blankets were covering him from the waist down while they were covering your entire body as you curled into the bed.

“Hi.” He smiled over at you clicking his phone off, effectively turning off the game he was watching.

“Hi.” You shyly smiled back. The last thing you really remembered was sitting at the bar with Seth. Everything after that is fragmented and blurry.

“You feeling better?”

“I am.” You attempted at a nod of reassurance, but even that made your head hurt. “What exactly happened?”

“You passed out in the bathroom so we called it and brought you back here.”

“Did I do anything embarrassing?”

“Nah.”

“Auston.”

“Nothing worth reliving, trust me.” Auston tried avoiding the topic, but the look you gave him showed that you weren’t going to drop it.

“Fine. You did fall on the ground trying to go back into the bar.” That explained the pain you felt in your legs and the bruising on the palms of yours hands.

“And you cried in the car because you thought everyone hated you.” That checks out. You’re sensitive and emotional and crying while drunk (happy or sad) usually occurs.

“And the change of clothes?” You questioned. You were only wearing Auston’s tshirt, no bra or panties. You knew Auston would never do anything with you drunk, but having no memories scared you.

“You also threw up all over yourself and me in the hallway. So I cleaned you up in the shower, put you in my T-shirt, put you to bed, and then showered myself.”

“It’s worse than I imagined.” You groaned burying your face into your pillow.

“It really isn’t. We’ve all been there before.” Auston shrugged.

“I’m avoiding everyone.” You finalized.

“Forever?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

Auston’s loud laugh amused you and also hurt your head at the same time.

“Okay well before that starts, Seth did want you to call him when you woke up.” The mention of the late night host put you into a panic as you remembered the dinner reservations you made for you and Auston tonight.

“The reservation!” You exclaimed shooting up from your lying position.

“Woah, slow down. I canceled it.”

Your shoulders slumped forward and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I ordered pizza. We’ll go out to eat tomorrow night.” Auston placed a kiss on your forehead before putting on his shoes on to go pick up your food. Your favorite pizza place in the city was just down the street from your hotel.

You grabbed Auston’s hand to gain his attention before he got too far from the bed. “Thank you.” You hoped your eyes held the sincerity that you felt. Auston was not just good for you, he was so good and sweet to you.

“I’ve got you.” He held out his pinky finger which you interlocked with your own. Auston lent forward placing a kiss on his own hand, “always.”

“I’ve got you, always.” You echoed his sentiment before placing a kiss on your own hand.

—

“Everyone please welcome my next guest 4 time Grammy award winner (y/f/n) (y/l/n)!” Seth introduced you. Walking from behind the curtain onto the stage, you waved to the studio audience.

“Hello” you smiled settling into the chair closest to his desk.

“How are you?”

“Much better than the last time you saw me.” The audience laughed along with you.

Your day drinking interview had over 12 million views on YouTube and was the talk of the internet. Everyone found it hysterical that your interview ubruptly ended because you got too drunk and had to go home.

“Last time I saw you we were getting day drunk-” Seth explained

“And I got too drunk.” You cut in causing everyone to laugh again.

“You did get very drunk, but I was also extremely drunk so when my producers told me you were going home I was so confused.” Seth confessed.

“Can I tell my version of the story and then you can tell what happened from your point of view?”

“Please do.” Seth encouraged leaning forward.

“So about halfway through the interview we cut to eat lunch and take a little break. I went to the bathroom and it just all hit me at once and I was slumped.”

“I saw the bathrooms they did not look the nicest.” Seth added, gaining another laugh.

“They weren’t!” You also laughed “But, god bless my boyfriend because he came and sat with me on the bathroom floor and rubbed my back and he kept waking me up.”

Seth picked up the story from his point of view, “Yeah so we’re all waiting out by the bar and you also brought one of your best friends with you and she was joking with us saying ‘they’re all over each other all the time, I guarantee they’re hooking up.’”

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter as you covered your face trying to hide your blush. Nonetheless, you nodded to encourage Seth to continue.

“So we all thought you were having sex in the bathroom, but really you were dying.” He shrugged like it was casual, making you both laugh again.

“Yes, exactly.” You confirmed.

“And your boyfriend comes back out and we’re all giving him a hard time like ‘oh how was the bathroom?’ And he just looks at your manager and was like ‘we have to take (y/f/n) home.”

And your manager gets up and goes into the bathroom and then pokes her head out and was like ‘can someone get the wheelchair.”

Seth pauses allowing the audience to react again before he continues on.

“And your boyfriend was like ‘no no I’ll carry her, it’s not the first time.”

“Yeah.” You giggled, “The next thing I knew I was waking up in bed so confused and then I FaceTimed you.”

“Yes.” Seth nodded, “We FaceTimed because I wanted to confirm that you were alive. And Venmo you money for the dinner I promised.”

“That was the worst part of it all! We had to cancel dinner!” You exclaimed, “But, again, I have an angel of a boyfriend, so he ordered pizza and we ate in our hotel room.” You finished the story.

“Here is the picture of the dinner because you sent it to me.” Seth pulled out a card of the picture allowing the camera to zoom in.

“So it was a good night in the end.” Seth finalized.

“It was a very good night.” You agreed.

“We’re going to take a quick commercial break, but there’s more to come with (y/f/n) (y/l/n)! We’ll be right back.”

[apolloendymion]

ok! i think tumblr ate my fucking apple cider recipe post. still, my autumn equinox tradition must carry on!

Apollo's Foolproof From-Scratch Apple Cider That Was So Good It Allegedly Landed Me A Boyfriend

you will need:

12 apples (the variety is up to you, i usually do half granny smith and half whatever's on sale plus a red delicious for garnishing)

10oz raisins

cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, star anise, nutmeg, allspice, cardamom pods, any other warming spices u like (whole > ground) (follow ur heart on the amounts, it's like garlic just throw so much in there. just go wild)

1 orange

brown sugar (i don't have measurements but be prepared to use a LOT lmao, i always buy at least one 32oz bag. you'll be sweetening to taste.)

large pot with lid

potato masher (optional)

two large bowls/pots/receptacles to strain the cider into

fine mesh strainer

cheesecloth or coffee filters (optional)

apple corer or knife

citrus zester

slotted spoon or ladle

the steps:

1. scrub apples gently under hot water to remove grocery store wax coating. core apples making sure all seeds & stems are removed. add apples, raisins, and mulling spices to pot with enough water to fully cover ingredients, and bring to boil. reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 1 hour.

2. scrub orange to remove wax. zest and juice, avoiding the pith & seeds. use a potato masher or other utensil to lightly mash boiled apple mixture so every apple slice is at least partially broken up, then add the zest & juice to the pot. bring back to boil, reduce heat, cover, and simmer for another hour. then turn off the heat and allow mixture to cool.

3. place two mesh strainers over two bowls or pots (and cover each with a cheesecloth or coffee filters, if you have them). with a slotted spoon or ladle, remove as much of the solids from the pot as you can and place them in one strainer (the larger one, if they are different sizes) to drain, then press out as much liquid into the cheesecloth as possible.

4. pour the cider from the simmer pot into the second cheesecloth and press. combine the liquid from both bowls.

5. add brown sugar to taste

cooking tips:

the times listed above are bare minimums. once all the ingredients are in the pot (minus sugar!) you can simmer as long as you want, so long as someone's nearby to supervise.

always add any sweeteners after the cooking process. otherwise, they'll burn and make the whole thing bitter.

if it's too acidic, add baking soda or more spices. if it's not acidic enough, add lemon juice, additional orange juice, or apple cider vinegar.

variations:

add 12oz fresh cranberries to the first step

sub oranges for lemons or apple cider vinegar

sub brown sugar for straight molasses, maple syrup, or alternative sweetener of your choice (I'd imagine fig or other fruit-based sweeteners would work best)

report back to me if you try something new!! i want to hear how it turned out!

serving suggestions:

add three or four cinnamon imperials (red hots) to your mug, along with a dash of fireball whiskey if you're so inclined. i cannot stress enough how fucking amazing this tastes.

garnish with apple slices, orange slices, cinnamon sticks, and/or star anise

if you have dairy-free ice cream on hand, pour some cider over a scoop. you can use dairy ice cream, but it's more likely to curdle.

freeze some in an ice cube tray, then blend with some non-frozen cider for a slushie

ok I've never tried this, but i bet blending with pumpkin puree would slap. PLEASE tell me if you try it

this makes a metric fuckload of cider, which is very rich and can be watered down considerably (seriously). share with your friends and/or freeze some to last the season (or halve it, i guess, but that's no fun :P)

[badlymadedndsideblog]

The ultimate mix and match qucik bread recipe:

if something is beautiful it should be shared and cherished, and this banana bread recipe is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s a formula for making quick breads/muffins from a Food Network Magazine from like 2012 and it works miracles. It’s so flexible and delicious. Also ignore the part where it says to only use 1 fruit or vegetable type, I’ve mixed and matched to get to 1 cup. My all time favorite is banana zucchini bread. And it’s scalable!! I love using it to use up produce thats about to go bad. Its a very flexible and adaptible recipe/ recipe framework. Recipe in text form:

Choose a Flavor: Prepare one cup of fruit or vegetable (1 kind) such as pear(shredded and squezzed dry), apple(shredded and squezzed dry), banana(mashed), carrot(shredded), or zucchini(shredded and squezzed dry) *Note from me: I have used mixtures of multiple of these fruits/veggies adding up to one cup like a mix of zucchini and banana with great results. I have also had sucess using 1/4 cup cut up dried fruit (such as raisins) mixed with 3/4 cup warmed up applesauce*

Pick Your Mix-Ins: Choose up to 1 3/4 cups total of the following ingredients (use no more than 3/4 cup nuts). Toast and chop any nuts; chop any large dried fruit: walnuts, pecans, almonds, hazelnuts, pistachios, dried cherries, dried cranberries, dried currants, raisins, dried figs, dried apricots, pitted dried dates, rolled oats, chocolate chips, shredded coconut. *Note from me: I never add oats, but if you do add a lot of them you may have to decrease the amount of flour you use slightly*

Prepare the Pan: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter one 9-by-5-inch loaf pan or three 6-by-3-inch mini pans. *Note from me: you can also use muffin or mini muffin tins*

Make the Batter: Mix 1 1/4 cups flour, 3/4 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon each baking powder and salt, and 1/2 teaspoon each baking soda, cinnamon and nutmeg in a large bowl; add your dry mix-ins (from step 2). In a medium bowl, whisk 2 eggs, 1/2 cup cooled melted butter or vegetable oil, 1/2 cup plain yogurt or sour cream, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract and 1 teaspoon citrus zest (optional). Stir your fruit or vegetables (from step 1) into the egg mixture, then fold into the dry mixture until just combined. *Note from me: you can use any mix of white & brown sugar, and you can use AP flour or a mix of AP and whole wheat flour, also playing around with differnt seasonings and flavorings is fun*

Bake the Loaf: Spread the batter in the prepared pan/pans. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 55 minutes for a standard loaf, 35 to 40 minutes for mini loaves. Cool 30 minutes in the pan(s) on a rack, then turn out onto the rack to cool completely. *Note from me: check at like 15-20 minutes for muffins*

Make a Glaze: Prepare a glaze, pour on the cooled bread and let set, 15 to 20 minutes. Chocolate: Whisk 1 cup confectioners' sugar, 2 tablespoons cocoa powder, 2 tablespoons milk, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract and a pinch of salt. Vanilla Bean: Whisk 1 cup confectioners' sugar, 1 tablespoon milk and the seeds from 1 vanilla bean. Brown Butter: Brown 3 tablespoons butter over low heat; cool slightly. Whisk with 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar and 1 tablespoon milk. Use immediately. Citrus: Whisk 1 cup confectioners' sugar, 1 tablespoon each milk and citrus juice, and 1 teaspoon citrus zest. Cream Cheese: Whisk 1 cup confectioners' sugar, 3 tablespoons softened cream cheese, 2 tablespoons milk and 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract.

Happy baking and enjoy!!!

[because-she-goes]

waiting for you

warnings: swearing, alcohol, cowboy!matty, bartender!matty, pining for each other, slow burn. Enjoy!

The lights were dim and the air was filled with the smell of leather and smoke. The sound of electric guitar, people talking and glasses clinking percolated around the bar. Neon signs buzzed and hummed above you as you fixed your hat. The staw hat had become slightly more and more crooked as the night progressed and you became more drunk off the rum and cokes the bartender kept passing to you. Today had been a rough day, your boss had scolded you about leaving papers on his desk in front of the whole office, you spilled coffee down your brand new blouse, your heels were digging into your achilles tendon and that’s not even to mention how you had ran out of gas on the way to work and had to call your work friend Mona to carpool you both there. Needless to say, you needed to take the edge off, enjoy your Friday night in peace and forget about your 9-5 for a bit. Taking a long sip and finishing the rest of the rum and coke in front of you, letting the liquor burn your throat.

“How was the drink, darling? Want another or something different?” The voice grabs your attention. Looking up at the bartender, first noticing the chunky rings that adorn his hands. Then the salt and pepper curls being held back by a clump of gel. Then his eyes, holy fuck his eyes. And god his outfit was good, a tight white tank top with a seemingly vintage flannel thrown over it and some baggy blue jeans. Shaking your head to wake yourself up a bit and bring you back to reality, you remember he asked you a question.

“It was really good, but I’ll try something different! Dealer’s choice.” You answer him, eyes now locked onto his.

“Okay, do you like sweet, bitter or sour?” He asks, eyes taking a glance at your lips. You silently thank god you remembered chapstick and lipstick today.

“…sweet.” you reply simply, taking a glace at his stupidly perfectly pink lips. You take a moment to think how they would feel pressed against your pulse point on your neck, teeth nipping. You let out a sigh as he nods and gets to work.

You watch his skilled hands move around the bar as he grabs the different ingredients for whatever he has in mind… vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice, then cranberry juice. In a shaker with some ice, he puts one and a half ounces of vodka, a half ounce of peach schnapps, and then two ounces of each of the juices. You gulp as you watch his biceps flex as he shakes the cocktail around until you notice the condensation form around his knuckles. Oh dear fucking god.

He pours out the sunset-toned liquid into a glass with pebble ice and places 2 cherries on top delicately. “Here ya go, sweetheart. Let me know how you like it.”

You take a sip and barely hold back a moan at how sweet and lovely the drink is. “Oh my god, this is good! What is it called so I can order it next time I’m out?” You ask, going in for another sip.

He waits until the rim of the glass touches your lips and then says “It’s a sex on the beach, babygirl…” Your brain short circuits at that and you cough up a bit of the drink.

He giggles and hands you a napkin. “Everything okay, muffin? You alright there?”

“Yeah… yeah I’m good, just-just took me by surprise is all!” He laughs a bit more as you wipe your mess a little… noticing an orange stain blooming on his white tank top.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about your shirt!” You damn near shriek, reaching over the bar to wipe it with a napkin before it dried.

“Oh it’s okay, babygirl. I always keep a spare in my car for times like this haha - wanna take a walk with me? I’m due for my 15 minute break now anyways.” He offers, already walking to join you in the front of the bar. He holds out a hand and you take it, walking out to the back with him as he yells to the other bartender to cover him for a bit.

In the parking lot, you see the most beautiful red vintage Ford Bronco. He unlocks it quickly and grabs the extra shirt out of his backseat, silently swearing to himself how the shirt got ruined and he had just washed it that morning. He takes a minute to make sure you’re still okay as you lean against the driver’s side door. He sees your green eyes gleam in the moonlight and his whole body relaxes - he could never be mad at someone so beautiful, so pure, so lovely.

He wipes his hands of the alcohol being spilled while he made drinks, mixed with the dirt under his fingernails from being at the ranch that morning - he helps where he can and plus the extra money doesn’t hurt. You take another look at his hands and arms as he’s distracted and notice the very slight farmer’s tan and warm honey toned skin that graces his forearms. He peels off the dirty tank top and your heart stops when you spot his slight happy trail and abdomen flexing as he stretches.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, buttercup!” He speaks into the night sky, a laugh hidden under his breath. Swapping the shirts, he places the clean one on and throws on a baseball hat since the gel was starting to come loose and his hair began to fall in his eyes as he worked.

“S-Sorry, you’re just s-so pretty.” You admit bashfully, kicking the pavement below your sneakers. The drinks clearly now affecting your ability to filter your thoughts.

He steps towards you, taking your face in between his palms. Your breath hitches as you breath in his scent… marlboro reds, ginger and vanilla. Warm, spicy, a little sweet - heavenly. It takes everything in you to not just fall to your knees and collapse at his scent and him being this close to you.

“You’re prettier, angel.” His voice rough and thick with desire. You exhale shakily as he presses his body against you. A silence falls between you two, the only other sound cutting the tension being crickets chirping in the woods a stone’s throw away.

[spiritsoffrance]

A Guide To Drinking Vodka

“When life gives you a lemon, add some salt and vodka”

There are a lot of people who don’t prefer potatoes, but they surely won't mind drinking a peg of good premium vodka. Starting from Hollywood superstars to the common man, vodka drinks are popular throughout the world.

What makes this drink so fascinating? Why is it so in demand? To know the history of vodka, grab a bottle, a glass, and some lemons, please! 

What is Vodka? Find out from the experts!

Vodka is a transparent distilled liquor, without a particular taste or smell and has an alcohol content of 37-50%. 

Neutral in flavour, this liquor enhances the taste of anything with which it is mixed and can be enjoyed in varied ways.  Originating in Russia, Poland, and Sweden in the late 18th Century, Vodka is mainly made of ethanol and water without any other additives or flavours. 

If we travel in the past, we will find that Vodka was initially made by fermenting cereals, grains, and potatoes in Europe as early as the 17th century. 

Now, with the advancement of technology and to suffice the never-ending need of humans, a lot of the modern brands use corn, fruits, sugar cane, and even maple sap as the base for this liquor and to make alcoholic vodka drinks. 

Vodka can be drunk “neat”, that is without mixing it with water or any other substance. However, if you can see right past a glass of vodka, my friend you are missing out on the big picture!

What is Vodka made from?

Vodka is derived from the Slavic word which is interpreted as “little water”. There is a debate among scholars regarding the beginning of vodka or vodka drinks. 

Wine connoisseurs do not usually pay much heed to Vodka and consider it to be the damsel in distress of alcohol, but let’s not forget how this expensive yet inoffensive spirit skyrocketed to prominence back in the late 80s.

Now the main ingredients for this drink are or were potatoes. However nowadays to get a bottle of crisp and clean vodka, it is always suggested to go with wheat as it requires less distillation. 

Herbs were considered to be a source of medicinal in the primitive days, but soon these herbs were crushed and distilled for enjoyment purposes too. Large-scale production of Vodka began in late 16th century Poland.

The process of distillation was long and lengthy. The first distillation was known as brantówka and second as szumówka, and the third to be okowita. All the above three had an alcohol content of 70-80%, which was then further watered down with alembic stills. Vodka was even produced using several other substances like carrots and purified by filtration with the help of charcoal. Vodka is only distilled and rarely aged.

How to serve Vodka? 

Now if you have never had a sip of vodka in your life, you must be thinking how you drink vodka. Well for the uninitiated, we have got the complete Vodka guide just for you!

The best way to have vodka is to have it straight, in a shot glass. 

However, most people do not like the taste of raw alcohol, and voila, cocktails!

Vodka cocktails are the best as it enhances the taste of anything with which it is clubbed! 

So next time when you want to own the dance floor at a party, never forget to try out a few of these vodka cocktails.

Bloody Mary - No, I am not asking you to summon the devil who would pluck your eyeballs out, however, this cocktail is sure to give a chill to your spine! Made from tomato juice, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, a variety of herbs and spices, and unflavoured Vodka, Bloody Mary is “THE” perfect cocktail for the brave ones!

Cosmopolitan - Take a glass, pour some vodka, a few ounces of orange juice, cranberry juice, and fresh lime. Mix them all together and serve with ice cubes. To double the flavour, you can mix it with flavoured vodka. 

Long Island Iced Tea - In spite of the name, Long Island Iced Tea has got zero tea but a whole lot of alcohol in it! Vodka, gin, tequila, rum, triple sec, and only a sprinkle of cola. Be careful, this one can get messy, quickly!

Vodka Martini- This is a classic Vodka cocktail usually made of vodka and dry vermouth, a bit of orange and lemon peel. The best way to make a vodka martini is to use premium-quality vodka and vermouth.

White Russian - To all coffee lovers, this is the “ONE” for you. Mix coffee liquor and a bit of heavy cream and there you have it!  White Russian is also considered to be the perfect cocktail for sweet tooths.

Vodka: More than just an alcoholic drink

It may surprise you, but Vodka has a number of purposes other than making the shy-guy to be the life of a party!

Odorless, colourless, and unflavoured this drink has properties that are similar to rubbing alcohol and can be used:

As a spirit

As a disinfectant

As an insect repellent

So next time you decide to camp or hitchhike, carry a bottle of vodka!

Characteristics of Vodka

Each vodka has its own unique flavour. However, most of the time it is seen that vodka is colourless, odorless, and tasteless. The best vodkas (such as Hartshorns ‘world’s best vodka’ is almost like drinking water!)

Shop premium Vodka forms Spirits of France

If you are an alcohol enthusiast and want to decorate your mini bar with premium Vodka bottles, do check out Spirits of France.

Our cellar constitutes of premium Vodkas that will make you a loyal fan of the drink.

So what are you waiting for? Grab a glass, and pour some vodka, Cheers!

[necarion]

Okay, so.

The Count von Dracula; or, the Harmless Mis-stake

Act 1:

Open with a big song and dance routine in and around Castle Dracula. The vampires (sans the Count) are singing about how awesome it is, and the peasants about how terrifying everything is given that the terrible (and also incredibly suave and genteel) are living right there. And then some stuff about how they keep safe, etc., and really, life could be a lot worse. They’re all kind of lonely, though.  Just setting things up.

Out of the chorus enters the Count who sings about how it’s great to be the Count, but also he’s very lonely and has gotten tired of living in the remote village. He wants to go to a big city and meet people and see the night life!

Well, who should arrive but Jonathan Harker, who’s (for some reason) selling London property while visiting a remote village in Transylvania. But the two hit it off, especially after Jonathan sings a song about how awesome London is and how he can’t wait to get back to his beautiful fiance and her (slightly less) beautiful sister, who seems sad all the time.

Jonathan is absolutely oblivious to all the weird things going on, all the ominous warnings, people floating down the hallways in front of him. In the first part, he blames everything on Paprika. (There is a couple snatches of dialogue about how the servants are baffled. They haven’t put any paprika on in weeks, it’s just tomato sauce and the blandest food they can imagine.)

As Jonathan prepares to leave, he is sad to leave his new friend, until the Count goes “hey, why don’t I come with you. I’ll even buy some of your property if I like it there!”

Jump to London where you have Lucy and Mina, where Mina is pining for Jonathan and Lucy is feeling stifled in some way that she can’t express because she’s a proper English lady. But the news comes that Jonathan will be back and he’s bringing a fancy Foreign Count.

The two men show up at the home, and there’s the classic madrigal. Mina and Jonathan sing for a while about how they missed each other, and then you get them sort of humming quietly while the Count observes how beautiful Lucy is and how this is what he was missing. And Lucy says the same thing to this man all dressed in black, and immediately puts on black nail polish, and this is what she was missing (the song refrain is, “At last I’ve found // [the thing that][the person] I was missing!”)

But Lucy is still a bit hesitant, so Dracula has to do some work wooing her. Everyone else thinks that this is super sketch. They’re convinced something is wrong and that obviously she’s a vampire.

The climactic Act One ending is where Lucy orders a steak medium rare and this is horrifying, and Something Must Be Done. Van Helsing shows up because he heard there was A Vampire. (Note, Van Helsing is a huge idiot and first identifies Jonathan, wearing a pastel shirt, as the vampire, and then is quickly corrected.) Cue another running joke (besides the bland food): people confusing “steak” and “stake” (with “mistake” as a common side one)

There is only one option: to save Lucy from her corruption (note: she is basically only wearing slightly darker lipstick and black nail polish and is still very gentile) that Dracula, Jonathan’s friend, must be killed.

Curtain

Act 2:

Lucy gets a solo about how liberating this whole thing is, not having to be a perfect lady all the time, and how the Count accepts that. He’s not a perfect gentleman because...one time he kissed her hand 2 seconds too long (the maids titter about that), and his suits are tailored weird, but in a way she likes.

The Count is living his best life, hanging out with Jonathan, who’s still really twisted up and guilt-ridden about what Must Be Done, because he really likes Dracula who he’s never seen actually hurt anyone. He keeps finding stuff around the house that looks like blood and he pours it out. (The servants keep complaining about the guy who tossed the Bloody Marys (Bloodies Mary?), or cranberry juice, or whatever.  This is another running joke).

But Van Helsing manages to really convince Jonathan and Mina, because they have a team of Vampire Hunter Experts who go through the points one-by-one about how there is no other possible conclusion. This is one of the big patter songs, where Van Helsing runs down a list of things that are definitively Vampiric. Except this list is nonsensical and like 2/3 are just things that are super normal for some other culture that the audience would be familiar with (probably the French in the original, but it’s often redone with lyrics about stuff the contemporary audience does that wasn’t 19th Century London Aristocrat).

The vampire hunters are obviously huge idiots in other ways. Van Helsing is convinced that everything is a sign of something Vampiric. He wears garlic necklaces, and lives in a flat above an Italian restaurant. The other vampire hunters wear outfits that are clearly, like, costume store Clergy(TM) outfits.  They look really bad at first, and then you meet an actual priest who is in fine outfits and is super disdainful of them.  (He is the one preparing for the wedding of Mina and Jonathan).

There’s a side thing going on where Dracula’s maid and Van Helsing are clearly falling for each other, but cannot because their missions in life are too different, and instead must clearly kill each other (“To protect my master” “to safeguard England”)

The story hits the big finale as Van Helsing is about to Stake Lucy. Team Vampire Hunters are really psyching themselves up for this horrible thing they have to do.

Then, as the stake is poised, Lucy wakes up from her nap, and says something like “I say, you’re taking this game a little too far.”  Because she thinks they’re just LARPing or something, and isn’t actually a vampire.  She’s been saving herself for marriage, but she and the Count are definitely doing that, and they’ve gotten the priest in.

Team Van Helsing decides they need to protect Lucy anyway, when the villagers from Romania bust in to help protect Dracula. There’s a mild tussle between them and the vampire hunters. Turns out, that the vampires have never actually killed anyone, and they really miss him because things are super lonely without him.

Dracula says, “and anyway, Lucy has convinced me to only eat blood sausage, blood pudding, watermelons, and tomatoes (they’re red, so basically blood), because our love is strong.” It turns out that all the red “blood” drinks that had been thrown out weren’t the servants, but the Count’s. (Jonathan and Van Helsing literally never bothered to check on what was in the glasses.) Lucy declares they’re going back to Transylvania along with the villagers (to everyone’s obvious sadness).

Then the maid goes “no, wait, I have a better idea, Count, you have a massive estate here that’s basically in the middle of London. People of Transylvania, why don’t you just move here?!” (Note: we had no idea the estate was this big before, that this might even be an option!).  Joyous celebration final number. We get our final pairings (Jonathan/Mina, Lucy/Dracula, Van Helsing/Maid) and all the villagers pair off with all the vampire hunters, and it ends with a “we’re all going to get married [aside: and I get to be an immortal vampire who wears black all the time!!], [aside from Jonathan: yay, I get to make the sale. Oh, and also get married to Mina] huzzah”

Curtain

How would you do a G&S Dracula?

Ooh, that's a really interesting idea!

The first thing that springs to mind is that we'd have a very uneven gender balance when it comes to singing parts - gender-blind casting might help, but I don't know if Dracula would work as a musical.

Ruddigore could work as a stylistic template (Sir Ruthven Harker anyone?), or maybe...

Dracula is a Murgatroyd and secretly wants nothing more than a normal life in the village, but he's bound by the ancestral curse to do evil vampire things...

And when he finally lures a young Englishman to his castle, it turns out that terorrising naive foreigners is much less simple than it appears.

Throw in some Iolanthe-style jokes on the physiology of vampires, a tender, heartbreaking duet for Jonathan and Mina, and there's at least a good mix of potential leads in there.

[spookiekewchie]

Since you wanted an ask…..

Demon!Andy

So Andy finally impregnated sis like he planned and they have a beautiful baby girl!

So you know after the baby and with her PPD she’s feeling down a bit! It doesn’t help that Andy is always gone with work and stuff (or whatever you want his absence to be)

After a hype up from her bff, she decides it’s time to snap back to the bad bitch she is and get metaphorical grove back 😂

So we can do a time skip I guess!

Now the day has come! Time for her mommy makeover and it’s just in time because it’s her homegirls bachelorette party and they are going all out!

Andy sees what she is wearing and how bad she looks and he is like nopeeee but she goes out anyway! Drunk party shenanigans ensueeeee

As you Andy is hella possessive and a stalker! So he follows reader and he sees her get a lil to chummy with one of the strippers……

You can fill in the rest 😈

Can I Get It?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: demon!Andy Barber x woc!reader

Summary: Andy's been absent a lot since you've given birth to his twins, and it's taken a toll on you. Time for him to remind you that you're still his little angel.

READ: LOSING MY RELIGION / CHRIST IS COMIN', AND SO AM I / CALL ME WHEN YOU NEED / A HOLIDAY READ

Word Count: 3.9k+

Warnings: general language warning, soft dark demon!andy, angst, mentions of post partum, mentions of reader feeling unwanted, possessive Andy, mild violence, reader going off on Andy (lmao), unprotected sex (p in v), possessive sex, choking, multiple o's, petnames (Andy calls the reader little angel), daddy kink (just the name being used)

A/N: So this is a little time skip, but don't worry I still plan on writing the moments in between this and the last part thing I wrote for them. Loosely inspired by Adele's song Can I Get It. I made an attempt at proof reading but I probably missed some things so excuse any errors or typos. The image is edited by me (the black eyes), divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

You look down at your phone, thumb hovering over the send button before you choose to back out your entire reply and leave Andy on read. You’re still mad at him, and it’s not like he’s been the most attentive partner as of late. In your opinion Andy should be kissing the ground you walk on, especially after pushing out his twin demon spawn. You gave him not one, but two heirs, and he couldn’t even be bothered to be in your shared bed a good amount of the nights that he was actually home. Your blood boils at the thought of it, and you don’t bother considering that there might be a reason why Andy has been so busy lately. You shouldn’t have to consider it, if there’s something going on then he should just tell you.

Sipping on the cranberry juice and sprite that you’ve been nursing you sigh, it’d be so nice to pour a bit of vodka into your glass right now, but you’re still nursing so that’s not an option. Sliding your phone into your purse and rejoining your friends. It’s a bachelorette party and you don’t need to bring the mood down by worrying about Andy when you should be celebrating your friend getting married soon. It’s hard not to think about him though, especially when the whole argument earlier had been because of him not wanting you to leave the house in the short dress you were wearing. He wanted you under him, on top of him, wrapped around him, and he certainly didn’t want you around a bunch of half naked gyrating men. He knows that you won’t let yourself be tempted that easily, it’s more that you’re craving some time with your friends now that you’re finally starting to feel better and the postpartum isn’t wreaking as much havoc on your mental and emotional state any more. He feels guilty about not being there for you like he wanted to, but he swears the next time he won’t have to leave you alone with just Agatha as support again.

It’s something he might have told you if you hadn’t stormed out of the house and jumped into your car so you could speed off. He assumed you just needed to cool off, and he knows you won’t be trying to run. Not when you have two beautiful babies that you adore and that need you. That didn’t mean he particularly enjoyed arguing with you or you walking out on him.

That’s how he ends up watching you from outside your friends house, you’re laughing and sipping at your drink. It’s just you girls and he thinks that’s perfectly fine right up until the point that a dark truck pulls up and four men pile out in police officer uniforms. Each one of them is ridiculously built, and Andy already knows what’s about to happen. He clenches his jaw so hard that he can hear the creaking of his teeth under the pressure as he watches one of your friends open the door and usher them in with a squeal of drunken laughter. It sets his nerves on edge, and through the window he can see the men beginning their routine as they work their way around the room. You throw cash, his cash he notes bitterly, and laugh with your friends and despite knowing that he should be glad that you’re having a good time, Andy just seethes as he continues to watch you.

It feels like an eternity before the song finally ends, and the men start to break off with smaller groups of women. And then there’s you, wandering away to the kitchen by yourself to check your phone again. He wonders if you’ll actually text him back now that you’ve had your fun, but you just set the phone down on the kitchen island and pour more sprite into your juice.

“Now what is a hot mama like you doing off by herself.” A voice says from the kitchen entrance, and you nearly choke when you look over to see one of the dancers sauntering over shamelessly in this thong. You have half a mind to dismiss him, thinking he’s going to try and hit on you in hopes that you’ll slide him a bit more cash but instead he helps himself to a drink and leans on the island next to you. “I’m Adonis,” He gives you what is obviously his stripper name, and you do your best not to snort in laughter. “The bride to be told me you just had twins, and that you deserved a little extra attention.” He informs you, and you groan and bury your face in your hands. The male dancer catches sight of the large ring on your finger, glinting in the low light. It feels heavy right now, a reminder that you’ve tied yourself to Andy and right now you don’t even think he wants you. “Relax mama, I’m not gonna try to break up a happy home. But you gotta answer a question for me.” He continues, and you look up at him with curiosity.

“Did you seriously just have twins? Because damn girl.” He gives a low whistle, taking your hand and making you do a spin for him. “Like I might bat for the other team, but I got eyes mama and you look damn good!” He’s got you cheesing harder than you have in a while, and you don’t even think twice about it when you reach for your phone and open your photos so you can show him the many pictures that you’ve taken over the past three months. He presses in close to look at the screen, gasping at the pictures of your two bundles of demonic joy. A boy and girl, and then there’s the picture of Andy holding them that you pause on for longer than you’d like. He looks so happy holding them, so proud and content, it makes you think for a moment that he really only intended to use you as a human incubator. You don’t realize that tears are on your face until one drops onto your screen. You curse, wiping it away quickly and trying to pretend that you’re fine, but Adonis has already seen it and he’s quick to try and soothe you. “Hey it’s okay, I know I’m pretty but there’s no need for the tears.” He teases, and you give a watery chuckle. He’s sweet, and you’re quickly finding yourself grateful that your friend sent him in here to keep you company.

Unfortunately the moment Adonis innocently runs a hand down your arm that’s when Andy sees red. He assumes the worst, and one second he’s outside peering in, and in the next he’s got your friendly stripper by his throat.

You react in an instant, first trying to pry Andy’s hand off the sputtering man who has no idea what’s going on. “Andrew Stephen Barber!” You hiss, beating against his arm with your clutch until he’s focusing on you. “Let him go, you fucking bully!” You demand, and Andy’s glare doesn’t even make you tremble. You’re too angry with him to be afraid, you’re also hurt, assuming the worst things, and the one man that’s gone out of his way to make you smile is being threatened by your possessive demonic lover, so you can add embarrassment to your list as well.

“I saw him touch you.” Andy seethes, and you scoff in disbelief.

“First of all, I’m not his type. You might be though.” You snap, and Andy’s brows furrow before he puts that together and he chooses to release the gasping man. You hardly pay Andy any mind as you tend to Adonis, apologizing profusely, and getting him some ice for his neck. Ten minutes later, and another apology this time to your friends for having to leave early you all but stomp outside and slide into the passenger side seat of your car so that Andy can drive you back home with nothing from you but your stony silence. There’s a lot you want to say, but you won’t start a fight while he’s driving. “Are you going to talk to me?” Andy huffs out, gripping the steering wheel too tightly. “I said I was sorry, it was a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, you misunderstood a man being friendly to your baby machine.” You mutter under your breath, but when Andy demands for you to repeat yourself you say nothing and simply glare out the car window while you fiddle with the heavy ring around your finger. The rest of the car ride is stifling, and you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you have to stay in the vehicle a second longer. The feeling gets worse when you see the house come into view, and without thinking twice about it you pull your phone out to dial Agatha. “Hey Agatha, do you think you could keep the twins overnight? I’ll pay you double if you can, but feel free to say no if you have plans.”

Of course she says yes, Agatha Harkness is more than happy to do anything and everything in her power to serve her dark lord and by extension you as well. You don’t dislike her, in fact she’s one of your favorite people, but right now when you’re in an emotional tailspin her happiness to do for you just because Andy’s laid his claim annoys you. You hate this, you hate feeling so out of control of your emotions, and so on edge that you just want to scream. You hate the irrational feeling that maybe you’re being too sensitive about things, but all the absence and the toll that motherhood has taken has left you feeling insecure.

Andy for his part just watches you angrily stomp through the house in silence, eyes narrowing as he follows at a distance until you reach the bedroom and kick off your heels. “What’s going on with you?” He finally questions, and something about his question just sets you off and it’s like an emotional bomb explodes in your chest. You whirl on him, dark eyes swimming with anger, and hurt as you clenched your fists at your side.

“Where would you like me to start, Andrew?” You snap at him, and you can see the muscle in his jaw jump when it clenches. You only ever call him Andrew when you’re angry with him, and he’s always torn between loving it and hating it because the amount of venom you can spit his name with is both arousing and infuriating. He doesn’t get long to dwell on it before you’re snapping at him again. “You’re never home, you’re barely in our bed with me when you are, and then you show up tonight wanting to act like I should just drop everything and cancel all my plans because now you have time for me.” You scoff, shaking your head as you begin to pace in an effort to expel some of the pent up energy you’re suddenly feeling. “That’s rich considering the fact that when I needed you these past few months you weren’t here!”

You don’t mean to yell, but tonight hasn’t gone as planned and having a happy moment ruined by Andy earlier has you feeling raw. “I gave you everything, Andrew,” you hiss at him, and he inhales a slow breath. In any other situation he would have put an end to this outburst of yours, but he’ll let you get this off your chest before he steps in and reminds you who the fuck he is. “Not that you gave me much of a choice,” you remind him, shooting a glare in his direction. You can tell he’s barely holding himself back from jumping on you and pinning you to the bed, but you’ve built up too much steam to just stop now. “But that didn’t matter because stupid little me fell in love with a demon.” You’re muttering that last part mostly to yourself, and the hurt creeps through the anger just enough for Andy to hear it. “You wanted me, I let you have me. You wanted an heir, I gave you two. TWO! Andrew, I gave you two children and then you just left me here with Agatha and two babies that I wasn’t even ready to have!”

He bristles at that, blue eyes bleeding black for a moment. “You got what you wanted, you always get what you want. And all I’ve wanted this entire time was you, and you couldn’t even give me that, and the second someone makes me forget that my husband has been a neglectful ass you show up and take that away too. It’s like you don’t actually want me to be happy.” You accuse, eyes dropping to the diamond ring sitting heavily on your finger. “Fuck! If you don’t want me anymore now that you’ve got what you wanted then just say that!” You fuss with the ring on your fingers, trying to pull it off only to find it fitting tighter than it had when Andy had first slipped it onto your hand. You know it’s the remaining baby weight you still haven’t shed, and you curse loudly as you rush to your vanity to try and get some lotion onto your hand in hopes that it’ll help the ring slide off.

Andy moves in a blur when he realizes what you’re doing, you feel him grip your wrist in his large hand to stop you and you use your free hand to push against his chest. “Stop it! It’s bad enough that you snatched me out of my life, knocked me up, ruined my body, and now you can’t even let me enjoy a night out. I don’t need to wear this if it doesn’t mean anything!” You hear a growl in response to your words, and in a dizzying move Andy roughly sits you on the vanity and leans in until he’s locked his gaze with yours.

“Are you done?” He questions, but it isn’t a question at all. There’s an edge to his voice, it’s low and dangerous and you haven’t heard that from him in so long that it makes you gasp out loud with a small shudder. “I admit that I’ve been neglectful, but I’ve been ensuring the safety of my queen and our children.” He tells you, and your mouth snaps shut. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten the time my enemies tried to take you, little angel, but I haven’t.” You haven’t forgotten necessarily, but you were under the impression that after the lengths Andy had gone to in order to get you back that it wasn’t an issue anymore.

Apparently you were wrong, and now you feel a little guilty for assuming the worst. Not guilty enough to stop being entirely angry with him though.

“Nothing to say all of a sudden?” He questions, and the emotional rollercoaster that you’re on has tears brimming in your eyes. “No? Alright, well let’s get a few things clear right now.” He starts, his hands moving to the short skirt of your dress to bunch it up over your hips slowly. “I took you because you’re mine.” He gives the fabric of the dress a pull between his hands until you hear the fabric ripping. “I got you pregnant because you’re mine, and I know what’s best for you.” The dress is in scraps now and it falls away from your body uselessly. Andy leans away just enough to look at you, and you feel the need to cover the softness of your belly with your arms. Andy pulls them away, and hums in satisfaction as he looks at you with pure admiration for the curves and plushness of your body. “There’s nothing wrong with your body, you’re perfect and you’re mine.” He steals your breath with a sudden kiss, and before you know what you’re doing you’re clinging to him. All the anger dissipating and giving way to need and desire as you return his kiss with months of pent up need.

Andy breaks away for a moment, lifting your ring hand into view to place a soft kiss to your knuckles. “If you ever try to take this ring off again because of assumptions, I will tattoo my name on you so you don’t forget what forever mine means.” You inhale sharply at that, swallowing thickly as you meet his stormy gaze. You don’t say anything for a long moment, but you don’t back down entirely. Sure he has a good reason for being absent, but he’s only telling you this after the fact and in your current emotional state it’s still not entirely good enough for you to just happily accept.

“Am I yours?” Your question shocks him, actually shocks him for a second because after all he’s just said you still have it in you to challenge him. He thinks for a moment that he’s created a monster, because there was a time when you would have never thought to question him like this. You lean forward, eyes searching his face for a moment before you place a hand against his cheek. Damn, you’ve missed him. “You say one thing, but your actions say another.” That has him growling in your face, and you just smirk at him as you stare into that black as night gaze. You know what’s coming next, and the anticipation has you dripping for him when he snaps his belt off like it’s nothing. He works himself out of his pants, and you don’t break the heated locked in gaze the two of you share.

You feel him hard and heavy against your folds when he yanks you to the edge of the vanity, and you clench around nothing. One of his large hands slithers up your body and settles around your neck. Your breath catches in your throat, and then it rushes out of you when you feel the sudden push of his cock entering you with a hard stroke. Andy curses, forehead resting against yours as he savors the feeling of you so wet and tight around his length. It’s really been too long, and being inside you again is like entering paradise. Your walls flutter and grip around him, your body sucking him in deeper as he begins to thrust.

His pace starts out steady, almost careful, because he knows it’s been a while and as eager as he is to remind you just who the fuck he is, he isn’t interested in hurting you. It’s not long though before he’s able to fuck into you the way he wants to, thrusts coming harder and causing the vanity to rock under you and slam against the wall. You cry out his name, hand sliding to the back of his neck and under his collar so you can dig your nails into his flesh. The hand at your throat grips just a little tighter, not enough to restrict your airflow, but enough to remind you that his hand is there. It makes you clench hard around his cock, and Andy groans against your mouth before he claims it in a possessive kiss. “What’s my name, little angel.” He demands, and the only sound that you can make is the loud moans that are tumbling past your parted lips.

“What’s. My. Name.” He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust that has your eyes screwing shut and louder cries rushing out of you.

“Daddy!” You manage to get the name out, free hand gripping against the wrist of the hand he has around your throat. His other hand is gripping tight against your ass, keeping you at the edge of the vanity and in the perfect spot to take each hard, deep thrust from his thick cock. Your legs bounce against his sides until you manage to lock them around his waist. There’s a crack from behind you when the vanity breaks after it hits the wall particularly hard, but neither of you stop to check on it. Both of you far too lost in each other and the pleasure that your bodies are feeling after being denied for so long.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Andy growls against your mouth, and all you can get out is a breathy little “you daddy” before words are failing you again. He’s got you chasing your high, the coil twisting tighter and tighter until the pressure is maddening and you’re teetering on the edge of release. He can feel how close you are, and when he adds just enough pressure around your throat to restrict your airflow it causes that coil to finally snap. You let out a choked cry, body tensing and then trembling around him as your eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Andy keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm and drawing your pleasure out until you were moving a hand to push at his hips in an attempt to get him to slow down and let you have a moment. “Take it, you wanted it so fucking bad, so take it.” He grunts, lessening the pressure of his grip so you can take in air. You suck in a shaky breath, whining when he keeps your body in the perfect position to take his each hard thrust into your quivering cunt. “Where’d all that fight go, little angel?” He taunts, pulling his face away from yours so he can take in the fucked out expression that’s on your pretty features. “Just needed daddy’s cock in you didn’t you? Just needed me to fuck all the stress away.” He says, and you cry out when you feel his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to say something but the words are garbled and ruined when his hand tightens around your throat again.

“I know, I know. Daddy missed you too little angel, now be a good girl and take this cock.” You squeeze tight around him, on the edge again and it has him cursing and letting his head roll back on his shoulders. “It’s all for you, my little angel.” Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of being so touch starved and having so much of him again all at once, the overwhelming pleasure he’s bringing you, and that emotional need to hear him remind you that he’s just as much yours as you are his. It sends you over the edge and he has you cumming again. Your vision whiting out for a moment as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, and you’re lost in it until the haze starts to clear and you register the feeling of Andy spilling inside you as he reaches his own climax.

He doesn’t pull out of you, and you can feel that he’s still hard as his length remains sheathed in your warmth. Neither of you say anything for a long moment, simply basking in the afterglow as Andy allows you to wrap your arms and legs around him. You hold onto him almost like you’re afraid he’ll say he has to leave soon, and he can sense the tension beginning to ease its way back into you. Without warning he lifts you into his arms, and the black depths of his gaze meet with yours as he carries you easily to the bed. “We aren’t done, little angel.” He tells you, depositing you onto the mattress before stripping off his clothing and climbing in on top of you. He cages you in, presses his body against yours until the only thing your senses can register is him.

“We’ve got so much time we need to make up for, don’t think I’m letting you out of this bed until morning.”

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Cat Moms Included

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x FemReader

Word Count: 1,862

For: @storiesofsvu 1 Year Anniversary Bingo

Square: Mother's/Father's Day

TW: none really, briefly implied smut, but mostly tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: Yes, I know I'm a bit late for Mother's Day, but hey, I got something done! Cat Daddy Frederick and Buttercup are back, and they brought a whole lot of fluff with them. As always, if anyone wants to be tagged in a future fic post, please let me know!

Tags: @madamsnape921; @itsjustmyfantasyroom; @prurientpuddlejumper; @thatesqcrush; @raulesparza4eva; @teamsladsandgents; @welcometothemxdhouse

Frederick was awoken by a gentle pressure on his chest and a small wet nose nuzzling his own. His eyes fluttered open to see Buttercup’s furry face gazing back at him. She rubbed her face against his chin.

“Mew?”

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” he said softly to the growing kitten. “I suppose you want breakfast?”

“Mew.”

“Okay then,” Frederick chuckled, giving her a little scratch between her ears. “You’re going to have to move so I can get up and freshen up first.” Buttercup let out a huff, but reluctantly padded down to the end of the bed and sat down.

Now came the hard apart. Frederick cast his eyes to you. You were curled up next to him, still asleep, using him as your pillow with one arm draped across his torso. One of his arms was wrapped around you, making sure that you didn’t drift away from him during the night. And you were still both very naked from the previous night’s activities. Frederick brushed a wisp of hair out of your face with his free hand, and his heart swelled with love when you sighed contentedly in your sleep and a soft smile crept across your lips. The last thing he wanted to do was tear himself away from your side. But if he wanted to feed Buttercup and prepare the final part of your surprise, he was going to have to.

He slowly and carefully extracted himself from your limbs, thanking his lucky stars that you were a sound sleeper. All the while Buttercup was staring him down and flicking her tail impatiently. He moved to the dresser, pulling out a clean pair of briefs, pajama pants, and a t-shirt, and headed to the en-suite bathroom to dress and brush his teeth. When he was done freshening up and dressed, he stepped back out into the bedroom, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Darling! I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Hmm?” You looked up at him through dreamy half-lidded eyes, cuddling Buttercup. “Oh, no, my sweet girl just wanted to cuddle with her mommy, isn’t that right sweetie?” Buttercup just purred and rubbed her head against your cheek.

“Or she’s trying to coerce you into a second breakfast,” said Frederick with a sigh.

“Mew?” Buttercup whipped her head around at the sound of the word “Breakfast”.

“Yes, I’m still going to feed you. Now, come along and let your mother go back to sleep.” Buttercup swiftly stood and leapt from the bed down to the floor. Frederick looked back you lovingly. “I’ve got this, my love, you rest and stay right here. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? For me?” Your eyes went wide. “Frederick, you shouldn’t. You already spoil me far too much.”

Frederick walked to the edge of the bed and cupped your face in his hands. “You, my exquisite angel, deserve to be spoiled every day. And I fully intend to spend the rest of my life doing just that.” His lips found yours, melding perfectly with them, just like always. You moaned into the kiss and grabbed his t-shirt, trying to pull him closer. Frederick chuckled at this and gently pulled away, drawing a whine from you. “There will be plenty of time for that later, my love, but first, your surprise, and believe it or not, Buttercup helped.”

You giggled at that and glanced down at you fur baby. “Oh, did she now?”

“Mew.”

“She did indeed,” answered Frederick, “and I just need you to stay right here and don’t come downstairs, regardless of what you might hear or smell.”

“I’m extremely concerned, but I can do that.” You kissed him one more time. “You and Buttercup go do whatever it is you need to do; I need to use the bathroom.”

Buttercup jumped off the bed as Frederick took your hand helped you stand. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your still naked body, awestruck by your beauty. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you made a point of teasing your lover, making it impossible for him to not stare at your ass as you bent over to pick your green silk robe up off the floor.

“Like what you see, Frederick?” You slung the robe over your shoulder and swayed your hips as you sauntered toward the bathroom.

“You minx, you know perfectly well that I can never get enough.”

“Well, I guess you’d better hurry back then.” You gave him a suggestive look over your shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

Frederick released a breath and looked down at Buttercup. “Let’s get to work then, shall we?”

*********************

You took your time brushing your teeth and washing your face. You were incessantly curious as to what Frederick and Buttercup were up to. As far as you knew, it wasn’t a special occasion. Not that Frederick needed one as an excuse to spoil you. He did so every chance he got. You did your best to do the same for him. It just seemed odd. The both of you always slept in on Sunday mornings. Even if Buttercup woke you up demanding breakfast, you were usually the one to get up and feed her, always coming right back to the comfort of Frederick’s arms after she was settled. You brushed your hair out and exited the bathroom. You would know soon enough what your dear, sweet man had up his sleeve.

***********************

After putting down fresh food and water for Buttercup, Frederick washed his hands, started brewing a fresh pot of your favorite coffee, and got to work. He had gotten out the waffle iron (and its instruction manual) and set it up on the counter the night before. He began pulling additional items from the cabinets and refrigerator one-by-one: a mixing bowl, waffle mix, a whisk, measuring cups, vegetable oil, eggs, chocolate chips, fresh strawberries, whipped cream, butter, syrup, and non-stick cooking spray. He opened the waffle iron and made sure the heart shaped mold was still securely attached, then closed it, plugged it in, and pushed the button to pre-heat.

He then got to work with measuring and mixing. He followed the instructions on the box of waffle mix, doing everything in the same order that you always did. He even used your method for cracking eggs, counting to three before swiftly cracking the shell on the edge of the bowl. He had been practicing with you for months. You loved waffles, and he had wanted to be able to make them for you. It had started with him observing and taking notes, but you insisted that when it came to cooking, you had to learn by doing. And so, you had given him a task and provided him with plenty of encouragement and praise. And you never yelled or belittled him when he made mistakes. You would always reassure him and the two of you would figure out a way to fix it.

“Mew,” Buttercup interrupted his train of thought. He glanced down and smiled at her, then chuckled as he saw her crouch down, wiggle her backside, then leap from the floor to the countertop.

“You’re getting good at that,” he remarked, “a month ago you still needed a chair to help you get all the way up. You’re getting bigger and stronger every day.”

“Mew,” replied Buttercup. “Mew?”

“Yes, I’m cooking without supervision. It’s all part of our plan to surprise Mommy, remember?”

“Mew?”

“Yes, I know what I’m doing.” Frederick finished whisking the waffle batter and verified that the waffle iron was hot and ready to go. He opened it and carefully and sprayed it with the non-stick cooking spray, and then used a measuring cup to pour the batter into the mold. He then closed the device and flipped it over, activating the built-in timer. He moved to busy himself with slicing up the strawberries while waiting.

“Mew?”

“Yes, I signed your name on the card.”

“Mew?”

“Yes, your gift is all wrapped and hiding in the bedroom closet.”

“Mew, mew?”

“Yes, I know I left my cane upstairs. I’ll be okay without it. And yes, I can get the tray upstairs without dropping it. I practiced while Mommy was at the store yesterday.”

The waffle maker started beeping and Frederick flipped it over and opened it. A heart shaped, golden brown chocolate chip waffle sat in the center of it, and Frederick grinned, quite please with himself. He used a fork to lift it out of the machine and onto a plate. He looked over at Buttercup, who appeared to be rather impressed.

“Not bad for “unsupervised”, eh? What do you say we try another one?”

*********************

You were lounging in bed in the silk pajamas that Frederick had bought you for Christmas, a copy of Jane Austen’s “Northanger Abbey” in hand. Frederick and Buttercup had not yet returned, and your curiosity gnawed at you with every passing moment. Your stomach growled for the umpteenth time. If they didn’t return soon you going to march down into the kitchen and devour whatever you found in the fridge. But then you heard the sound of feet padding steadily up the stairs, and sound of Frederick’s voice telling Buttercup to go on ahead. You put down your book as you saw Buttercup come trotting into the room. She leapt up onto the bed and made herself comfortable in your open arms. You kissed the top of her head and she purred contentedly.

“There’s my sweet baby, did you have fun with Daddy?”

“I would say so, “said Frederick, entering the room with a try of food, coffee, and cranberry juice.

“Frederick, what’s all this?” You sat up as Frederick made his way over to the bed, carefully placing the tray across your lap. Your mouth watered at the sight of the waffles, topped with butter, syrup, strawberries, and whipped cream.

“It’s for you, my love, Happy Mother’s Day,” replied Frederick, kissing your cheek.

“Mother’s Day? But Frederick we don’t- “

“It’s been expanded to include pet moms, and that means you,” said Frederick matter-of-factly. “And Buttercup agrees with me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Mew,” said Buttercup, nuzzling your cheek with her nose.

You felt yourself getting misty eyed, your heart swelling with emotions. “Oh Frederick, thank you, it’s perfect. Now, come here.” You patted the spot next to you and pulled Frederick in for a kiss as he sat down next to you. “I love you, Frederick.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now, dig in.” He indicated the waffles, and you quickly picked the knife and fork and did so.

“Mmm… Frederick these are amazing! You did wonderful job, my love.”

“Thank you, my darling, I had an expert teacher.”

“Mew?” You saw Buttercup eyeing the plate hungrily, licking her chops. You put a small dollop of whipped cream on your finger and held it out to her. She eagerly lapped it up. You giggled and placed another kiss on her head. “Such a silly girl.”

And with that, you settled in, content to enjoy your breakfast and spend the day relaxing with your beloved boyfriend and fur baby.

[pilothusband]

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 2)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, pining, some vague descriptions of wanting to be plowed, vague threats of violence

Word count: 2.7k

Description: More pining ensues, we see a lil skin (@softdin​ 👀), something eerie happens, two idiots who don’t know how the other feels. 

Author’s note: Let me know what you think!! Please go here to be added to the taglist!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The next few weeks passed by without incident. You still hadn’t seen Orso since he initially hired you on, which was kind of strange, but you figured it was because he was busy and had other ventures he had to keep an eye on.

So far your favorite part of working at Bear’s Den was working with Harlow. When it was slow you would pass the time chatting and getting to know each other better. You found out that Harlow was in the middle of getting her Master’s in Business Administration at the local school. She wanted to open her own bakery someday and worked at the pub to help pay for her degree.

Dillon was a little more frustrating to work with. In other words, he was lazy and he tried flirting with you (and every other woman around his age) every chance he got. It was harmless, but after a while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. 

Paz was almost always at the bar, but it seemed like he was busy most of the time. In fact, he had barely said a word to anyone all day, other than grunting a short “hello” as he stormed in.

“What crawled up his butt?” Dillon asked after he had slammed the office door. You and Harlow looked at him and shrugged. He seemed pretty surly in general, from what you could tell, but this was a whole new level, even for him.

A little while later, some customers had trickled in and there was a low hum of conversation around the bar. You were wiping down some glasses that had come out of the dishwasher. The damn  thing never dried the glasses completely, and Donny never dried them himself before carting them out to you.

Harlow came out from the back, coat and purse in hand. You instantly deflated, realizing she was heading home for the day.

“I thought you were closing up with me tonight?”

“I was going to, but Paz switched with me. Said something about a meeting he had later on anyways,” she said, applying chapstick.

Oh, just great.

“Don’t worry,” she said, almost like she could read your mind. “I’m sure he’ll be less grumpy once Madge brings him some food from the kitchen later,” she laughed.

“Yeah, he could use a Snickers or two.” You both dissolved into giggles.

It was as if Paz’s ears were ringing. As soon as you had made the comment, he stepped out of the office. He still looked pretty angry, so you figured whatever was bothering him hadn’t gotten any better. Harlow could sense his mood and all but ran out the door, throwing a quick goodbye behind her shoulder.

You waved after her, distracted for a moment. That’s when you heard your name being called, rather impatiently. You whipped back around and walked over, not wanting to sour his mood any further.

“Sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, looking up to make eye contact.

Big mistake. You could feel your stomach clench up with desire as soon as his eyes met yours. You could have sworn you saw his expression change momentarily, but as quickly as it appeared, he blinked and it was gone.

“I have a meeting later today. If you see a couple guys wearing matching white coats walk in and I’m not out front with you, come out back and get me. Don’t talk to them.”

You bit your lip and nodded. Paz’s gaze followed the movement and he swallowed heavily. You didn’t catch yourself watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down until he cleared his throat.

“Remember. Don’t talk to them.”

“Roger,” you said, turning on your heel to get back to the bar.

You had no idea how to feel about that interaction. He either didn’t trust you enough to talk to some important business associates, or something else was going on. You felt a little uneasy, but chalked it up to Paz’s fowl mood.

Was Paz involved with some bad people? Did this have anything to do with Orso not showing up to the bar for weeks? More customers were trickling in, distracting you from all the wild conspiracies your brain was coming up with. 

Orso and Paz were in a secret society and were plotting to steal an important government document. Orso and Paz secretly swapped faces and were living each other’s lives.

You really needed to stop watching Nicolas Cage films before bed every night.

After a while, Paz came out of the office to tend the bar with you. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but it was almost hypnotizing to watch him pour drinks. He knew the layout of the bar like it was the back of his hand. There was no hesitation to look for the correct liquor types when a customer ordered a cocktail that required a vintage bourbon. He didn’t struggle to remember which spout to use for cranberry juice vs. orange juice (like you did).

There was a point in the night where he was serving 5 customers at the same time, when you struggled to juggle just two of them. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest.

You heard a woman’s voice in your peripheral, snapping you out of a detailed and vivid daydream where Paz bent you over the bar to have his way with you.

“Excuse me, can I get a glass of Merlot?” She was probably in her mid-50s, wearing a slinky black dress that looked stellar on her, with leopard print heels. Basically, you wanted to be this woman when you got older.

“Of course,” you said, turning to the shelf.

Before you could even ask for Paz’s help, you heard him in your ear.

“Red wine?” 

You had to suppress a pleasant shiver. 

“Yes, please. The Merlot,” you looked over, giving him a sheepish grin. His face was still close to yours, you could see the flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes.

You stepped back, allowing him room to get to the shelf, and tried not to drool as he reached up towards the shelf, his shirt riding up his back with the movement. Time seemed to stop as you caught a flash of skin, toned and smooth. 

“Here you go,” he said, handing the bottle over to you. “We’ll keep it over by the register in case she wants another glass.”

You nodded, your mouth too dry to come up with words. Once the bottle was opened and the glass filled up, you handed it to the woman as she handed you her credit card.

She gave you a wide-eyed look as you accepted her card.

“That man is an occupational hazard,” she said, taking a big gulp from her glass.

You laughed, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Do you want me to open a tab for you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll stick around for a while,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Later on that night, it was about 15 minutes past closing time and all of the customers, as well as your bouncer Rick, had long left for the night. 

Paz had gone out back to count the till and you were organizing the liquor bottles when two men entered through the front door, which was strange because you could have sworn you had locked it.

They were wearing long, cream colored trench coats with some sort of emblem on the front pocket. It looked like a cog with six spokes. Something about it made your blood run cold. You had every intention of running out back to tell Paz they were here, but something about these men had you frozen in fear.

They weren’t like any men you had seen before, with short, cropped hair that was slicked back and eyes as gaunt as their thin faces.

Good evening,” the taller man said as he reached the bar. He gave you a smile, trying to appear amiable.

“Um, hi. Paz is out back, I can go get him for you,” Paz was going to lose his shit when he found out you talked to them.

“We’re looking for Orso Van, actually. Do you know where he is?” 

“I haven’t seen him for weeks. I can go get Pa–”

“I don’t want to speak with his whipping boy,” he interrupted, his tone growing cold. “I want to speak to Orso. Now.”

You were grateful at Paz’s immaculate timing as the back door swung open.

Paz looked more formidable than ever. He seemed to grow even taller, if that was even possible.

“As I told you last week, Dax, no one’s seen him in weeks.”

The silent man who was not Dax scoffed.

Paz continued, “and I thought I told you never to speak to my staff.”

Dax gave Paz a sickly, unnatural smile. It didn’t look like it belonged on his face. “I figured she might know something, seeing as she showed up right as Orso disappeared.”

You felt as if your entire body had been plunged into ice cold water. A deep, dreadful feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

These men have been watching us.

“Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with any of it.”

He stalked towards the men threateningly.

“Now, if you want to talk to me, we can go ahead and talk in the office. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my bar.”

The other man scoffed again and nodded towards Dax.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ll be back next week to check on Orso’s whereabouts. If he doesn’t show his face soon, you know what will happen.”

They turned, their pristine white coats whipping behind them. The door swung shut with a bang.

You could only gape after them, so many questions spinning through your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answers to any of them.

“I’m going to drive you home tonight,” his tone left no room for argument. You weren’t about to object anyways. Even if you had to endure a tense car ride, you were a hell of a lot safer with him than by yourself.

You both locked up as quickly as possible and made your way to his truck, slamming the doors shut harder than necessary.

The air was thick as a blanket, filled with so many unanswered questions. If you weren’t so rattled from earlier, you would have realized this was the closest you had ever been to Paz.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about back there?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“No.”

“If I’m in danger, I want to know why,” you told him, voice trembling. Your pulse was going a mile a minute.

“The less you know, the safer you are,” he said. His tone was still final, but not nearly as hard as you were expecting. 

He looked over at you. All you could do was stare back at him, mouth agape. His face was half bathed in the moonlight, painting his face in a pale blue light that contrasted with the dark that surrounded you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said quietly.

You felt like your lungs couldn’t get enough air, as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Okay,” was all you said back. You weren’t sure if Paz even wanted to be here with you right now, but you trusted him.

He regarded you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression that gave way to any trepidations you had. You looked back at him, having every intention to tell him you trusted him, but the words died in your throat when you saw his expression. He looked so open, so raw.

You let yourself bask in this moment, in the dark cab of his truck. There wasn’t an opportunity before now to just look at him freely. He had a scar below his right eye, and his nose was just a little crooked. You wondered if it was from getting in fights. You wondered what, or who, he had fought for.

He was quite beautiful, in a hard, unrelenting kind of way. You wanted to find out why he had built a thick wall around himself. You wanted to trace the lines of his jaw and feel the contours of his lips. 

His lips. Your eyes were laser-focused as his tongue came out to wet them. You found yourself thinking about what it would be like to taste them, to chase his tongue with yours.

He let out a shaky breath, snapping you back into the reality of the moment. You looked away, staring out the windshield, still watching his movements in the corner of your eye.

“We should go,” you wanted to flinch at the anxious edge to your voice.

Paz looked down at his lap and nodded.

“I’ll need you to navigate.”

You were grateful that Paz had stuffed a wad of cash in your hand last night before he dropped you off at your front door, mentioning to use it to Uber to work the next day. That meant you didn’t have to rush getting ready this morning to catch the bus to work, since you had left your car there.

It only took one tense night of locking your doors and windows, double checking the locks, drawing up your curtains and checking the locks again, followed by tossing and turning for hours on end only to fall asleep an hour before your alarm went off. It only took that one night for you to overthink everything.

It’s not that you were thinking about the creepy men that came in after closing. You had spent enough time to fret about that while you were trying to force your amped up body to relax last night.

This morning was spent overthinking every single interaction you ever had with Paz. He already had so much weight on his shoulders, running a business while his boss was off doing fuck knows what, while some seedy men were breathing down his back and basically stalking him at work.

Why should you add yourself to that list of responsibilities?

You had every intention to say good morning to him when you first saw him. He was walking out from the office, looking just about as exhausted as you were. You must have looked like a deer in headlights, because his eyebrows were raised in question, his head cocked to the side.

“I um, I was just going to the kitchen,” you said in an almost robotic voice.

You hightailed it out of the room before you could see the expression on his face.

Your heart was still pounding as you burst through the kitchen doors. This crush on your boss was really getting out of hand, and it only got worse after being in such close proximity last night. God, you probably looked ridiculous right now.

“What’s got you bursting in here like a bat out of hell?” You almost jumped out of your skin. Had Madge been next to you this whole time?

“I um, need coffee?” You said, accidentally wording it as a question. “If you have any extra, that is,” you added quickly.

Madge smirked, seeing right through your lie, but she didn’t question it.

“Just brewed a fresh pot. Knock yourself out.”

A little while later while you were back out front, stacking glasses between sips of coffee, you saw a plate slide into your peripheral.

“You look like you need this,” Madge winked. You looked down, mouth watering at the large pile of french fries.

“You’re a fucking saint, Madge.” You deadpanned. She cackled all the way back to the kitchen, throwing you another wink.

You didn’t see Paz much that day, and you were kind of grateful for it. Every time he entered the room you found some way to keep yourself busy to avoid his gaze.

He could probably tell you were being extra squirrely. Hell, everyone could tell. 

Donny had taken you aside earlier and offered to let you take a hit of his cousin’s homegrown, to which you politely declined. Dillon remarked on how tense you looked and offered to massage your shoulders, to which you told him to fuck off. 

Harlow didn’t say much, but she looked concerned. You pretended not to notice the sideways glances she was giving you.

A little while later, you were hunched over the bar, in the middle of writing out a supply order when you heard a throat clear from above you. It was a distinctly male sound. You almost dropped the pen in surprise when you looked up and saw Paz was standing before you, arm resting just a few inches from where yours was resting on the counter.

“I um,” Paz trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see how you– how things are going out here.”

He sounded unsure of himself. He was standing a little less tall today, with his shoulder slumped over. Weary to the bone.

“I’m great, so good,” you babbled. “Nothing going on with me. Feeling peachy.” 

“Uh, cool, yeah. Okay, I’ve got to uh...” he removed his hand from his neck and gestured towards the office before making his exit.

You collapsed, letting your head hit the bar with a thump. God, you hoped no one saw that go down.

“So, what the fuck was that?” Harlow said, walking over. 

You sighed dramatically, your entire body feeling like it was being held down by bags of sand.

You lifted your head up a little, giving Harlow the most pathetic look you could muster.

“It was nothing,” you told her. You stood back up fully and busied yourself with organizing the coasters on the bar, hoping she would let it go.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” she said, trying to hide a smug smile.

You had two choices here. Tell Harlow about the sketchy men from last night, which was not an option, or tell her about the pathetic crush you were harboring for your boss.

You turned around to make sure no one else was around. Thankfully, Dillon was on his lunch break, Paz was holed up in the office, and Donny and Madge were both in the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell anyone–” you started, but were interrupted with a squeal.

“Harlow, shhhh!” You admonished her, desperately trying to reach out to her to clap a hand over her mouth to no avail. She danced away, wiggling like a toddler at a birthday party.

“You guys are totally fucking,” she whispered, her brown eyes wide as saucers.

“I– what? No we aren’t.”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “I saw that little trainwreck of an interaction back there.”

“No, really, we aren’t,” you told her, and added with a whisper, “though, I kind of wish we were.”

“Well,” she said, chewing on her lip in thought. “Judging by the way Paz was bodysnatched back there, he’s in the same boat.”

You rolled your eyes. No, that was absolutely because of the threatening men from last night. He just felt guilty you were now in the middle of all of it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, missy,” she admonished, good-naturedly. “He totally looked scared shitless back there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You frowned in thought. He must be really freaked out by those men. You felt bad that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, I think it’s just a big misunderstanding,” you told her. “I think he thought he offended me last night because I was in a bad mood.” You were kind of impressed with the lies pouring out of your mouth at the moment. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Okay then,” Harlow  said, smirking at you. 

You charged towards the office and barged in before you could talk yourself out of it. It was Paz’s turn to look like a deer caught in headlights.

This was the first good look you had at him all day. The scruff on his chin was longer than usual. His eyes, despite being open wide in surprise, had dark shadows under them.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” you said, turning to leave.

“Wait–” Paz reached out, grabbing your shoulder. He let go almost immediately, as if the touch burned him. “Come in.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing after last night. I didn’t ask you how you were doing and I– I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day? Because you feel bad for not asking me how I’m doing?”

You blanched. Yeah, you felt bad but that definitely wasn’t why you were avoiding him.

“I guess, yeah,” you said, huffing out a laugh.

“I wish I could tell you more, I really do.” Paz said, sitting on the edge of the desk. It immediately groaned in protest, so he stood back up. “I don’t want any of the staff here getting involved with Orso’s bullshit. The less you all know the better.”

You nodded in understanding. You really did understand it. But something nagged at you.

“But what about you?” You asked him. “You’ve already been dragged into it.”

The sad, fleeting look on his face was devastating. You could tell he wasn’t used to others worrying about him. He must have caught himself, because his expression hardened in resolve a moment later.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “I’m working on getting a hold of Orso. Once he’s back they’ll leave us alone.”

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but you let it drop for the time being. You would just need to keep an eye on him in your own way.

“You should get going,” Paz said, changing the subject. “Your shift was over 10 minutes ago and I’m sure you need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I really do,” you said, giving him a tender smile. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight too.”

“I’ll try,” he said, his smile matching the one on your face.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @maybege @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost 

[kotsuvi]

WHAT THE HQ BOYS ARE LIKE DURING THANKSGIVING/FRIENDSGIVING

a/n: okay this is kinda a take on canadian/american thanksgiving—yanno with all the pumpkin pie and the turkeys and the fall colours? i just thought it would be kind of cute.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking for some

KARASUNO

daichi: told-no, COMMANDED asahi and suga to wear fall colours. like seriously wore the brown khakis with the orange sweater and little socks with turkeys on them. it’s at his house, so he insisted that suga and asahi arrive early and sit at the table together, just to make the other guests feel bad about not being dressed up. yells at the guests to stop touching his family’s ornaments and paintings. gets kita to help babysit.

suga: was actually going to dress up anyway, so he took it as the perfect chance to wear his turkey knit sweater. it has tiny little turkeys all over it like it’s so fuckin cute. lowwwwkeyyyy makes daichi blush when he sees him but like we’re not gonna talk about it. brings a delicious fruit salad that’s eaten almost singlehandedly by lev and hinata.

asahi: panics because he doesn’t have a lot of nice things to wear. like FREAKS OUT in front of his closet, close to tears. legit settles on a tan shirt, brown pants and black boots with a slight heel. definitely gets teased by tendou about keeping the beard. “keeping it intact,” he replies. brings cabbage rolls. also brings brownies, and has to fight the urge to eat them all on the way over.

nishinoya: arrives slightly late, but worth the wait. busts through the door screaming about how hungry he is. doesn’t take of his shoes in the house so he trails mud EVERYWHERE. also sneaks in a couple bottles of cider. he’s been thinking about this feast for days, and he just can’t wait. talks with his mouth full of food. probably spits mashed potatos on akaashi at some point. gets drunk off of his secret cider and asks iwa if he likes being second best to oikawa.

tanaka: arrives shortly after noya, despite saeko speeding to get there. you can literally hear him talking from ten houses away. argues with bokuto over stupid things; ends up nearly starting a food fight. eats with his fingers, literally no utensils, and doesn’t use a napkin. secretly grossing everyone out. thinks that he can win a turkey eating contest, but daichi shuts him down before he can get started. is DEDICATED to the kareoke. even sings a song for kiyoko.

hinata: so incredibly excited to eat. this kid could not SLEEP he was so excited. gets cursed with sitting next to ushiwaka and tendou, who bully him about his hair being thanksgiving colours year-round. budges everyone in line for the food. of course daichi then makes him go last. yells at kageyama for getting the best part of the turkey: the skin. atsumu tells him that ginger beer is a new type of “delicious juice” and he drinks it all, nearly throwing up afterwards. lowkey got flustered when tanaka was singing britney spears.

kageyama: tells everyone that he doesn’t want to go, but is actually extremely excited as well. for some reason he snoops through daichi’s house while everyone is eating? he just wants to take a look around, and then suddenly he’s in daichi’s parents’ bathroom, inspecting shampoo labels. literally doesn’t eat sitting still either. he just stands behind his chair? oikawa starts a rumour that he can’t sit because he has hemorrhoids, and kags responds by throwing his drink in oiks’ face. that really starts a riot. really he just wants to be standing so he can run to the kitchen and get more food in an emergency.

tsukishima: brings his headphones just in case he’s stuck next to bokuto or someone really loud and obnoxious. of course he is. bokuto AND tanaka. everyone tries to coax him into kareoke after the meal, and he declines, but really wants to prove to kuroo that he is the most angelic singer there. “accidentally” tips his drink into bokuto’s lap, but the guy is so busy yelling at tanaka that he doesn’t even notice, so tsukki tips another. goes on his phone at the table. tells tadashi to get all his meals for him because he doesn’t want to stand in line.

tadashi: goes through one (1) mental breakdown when he’s seated beside aone instead of tsukki. pours WAAAAAAY too much gravy on his meal because he’s just so nervous. like literally SWAMPS his turkey and vegetables. his mom forced him to bring a green bean casserole. he doesn’t even like casserole. sits across from oikawa and this mans won’t stop asking for photos of him and iwa, so tadashi is tasked with that for the night. offers to help daichi with the dishes afterwards. gets awarded with an extra slice of pumpkin pie.

saeko: handed her cider to noya beforehand because she just knew that daichi would check her at the door. she gets drunk halfway through anyway. challenges iwa to an arm wrestling competition. winner gets the losers pumpkin pie with EXTRA whipped cream. the sexual tension skyrockets. she wins but accidentally shoves iwa’s fist into akaashi’s cranberry sauce. gets scolded by daichi MULTIPLE times. too drunk to care.

kiyoko: also came over early. made butternut squash that is to die for. helps set up even though she knows that it’s just going to become a mess. keeps track of the points for kareoke. may or may not have given tanaka extra points for singing “i’m a slave 4 u” by britney spears.

yachi: of COURSE this girl has to sit between aone and ushiwaka. of course it works like that. and chicky is terrified. spills her drink on the nice tablecloth and pleads for kiyoko and daichi to spare her life. thinks that the kareoke is too loud. nearly craps her pants when bokuto jumps up on the table. brings glazed donuts for dessert.

coach ukai: daichi invited him just to be polite but then he??? ended up??? coming??? literally shocked everyone into the sixth dimension. says he isnt going to stay for long, but mans is there the WHOLE night. busts out with some MR. WORLDWIDE;)))!!

AOBAJOHSAI

oikawa: his one mission was to be best dressed, and judging by the appalled look on daichi’s face when he first entered, he succeeded. this mans wont shut up either, and even tho everyone yells at him, they’re actually invested in his stories. he tells a whole bunch from middle school and his earliest volleyball memories, and everyone??? likes it??? they’re intrigued the whole time. goshiki and lev listen extra hard. mans wants pictures as well. he needs to show his fans that he does actually have friends. of course he gets the photos before kags dumps the drink on his head, and then he goes feral. teases iwa about the second best comment, but apologizes to him after, assuring that iwa is an amazing ace.

iwa: only went there for oiks. the mans had plans with his family, but he knew that it meant a lot to oikawa, so he showed up. literally goes into a FIT of rage when he loses the armwrestling match, then further infuriated with noya’s comment. chases the kid around the table. nearly knocks out his teeth by tripping into a cabinet. leaves early after throwing a temper tantrum, then receives a formal apology from both oikawa and daichi later on.

matsukawa: i just know this mans smokes at family functions, so what’s stopping him from getting high at friendsgiving? of course he only smokes a lil, just enough to get a good buzz, because he wants to still be respectful. offers to refill drinks when he gets his own. helps pack up the leftovers. tries desperately to catch iwa as he chases noya around, but doesn’t succeed. he can’t really feel his fingers or his face, so he doesn’t smile or laugh like... the whole night.

hanamaki: maybe sneaks out to join mattsun. maybe. no, definitely. and he’s not used to it, so you BET this man is trippin. he tries his best to hide it, but of course suga can tell. he confuses cranberry sauce with champagne, so he literally drinks the damn sauce from a wine glass the whole night. oikawa certainly has pictures for the next morning to prove it too. 

kyoutani: doesnt get invited to a ton of things, but he decided to go to this. brings a pumpkin, which is nice, but daichi is like wtf am i meant to do with this??? but it’s a nice gesture. tries to engage in the conversation between the twins, but only gets frustrated when he can’t hear. threatens to flip the table once. cant find the bathroom and ends up taking a piss in the yard.

NEKOMA

kuroo: the one with the kareoke machine. absolutely did not tell daichi he was bringing it, but then pulls it inside. “get a load of this bad boy!!!” “kuroo what the hell is this???” i just know that everyone wants to sit beside this man at the table. he’s cracking jokes and people are straining to hear. it’s a match between him and oiks: who’s telling the better story? also won’t leave. like it’s 2am and he’s still there, swaying alongside bokuto and coach, singing early 2000’s nelly furtado.

kenma: KUROO AND HINATA CONVINCED HIM TO DYE THE TIPS OF HIS HAIR ORANGE. he HATES it. buttttt he’s keeping it even though people tell him he’s a hinata wannabe. “but why would i want to be like shoyo?” “hey kenma that’s not very nice!!” definitely plays games at the table. doesn’t even try to hide it. gets gravy on his switch and uses lev’s shirt as a napkin.

lev: this man has enough food on his plate to feed a small village. like deadass, he doesn’t slow his eating for a BREATH. he didn’t eat the whole day just so he could be extra hungry. like 3/4 of the spread is on his plate. also like cant fit his legs under the table, so he has to eat with his chair super far away. of course this man is going to be dropping food on the floor. literally has a hole in his chin because the gravy keeps dripping out whenever he speaks.

yaku: brings champagne because it’s “an exciting night”. lowkey freaks people out with how quickly he can down a bottle. has a small amount of chicken and turkey, LARGE amount of potatos, but then as many slices of pie as he can. like legit the pieces stack up on his plate. he scolds lev for making a mess, but literally litters crumbs all over the table.

FUKURODANI

bokuto: thinks that lev and him are participating in an eating contest, even tho lev has no idea what’s going on. of course this man brought his own liquor. he knows it’s time to party. legit as soon as he’s finished eating he’s busting open the bottle. towards the end of the night he’s actually dancing on the table, narrowly missing the forks and knives. daichi, suga and kita try their very best to control him, but he’s in his element. legit was throwing it back to kuroo singing “uptown girl”.

akaashi: also brought champagne but drinks it in a fancy glass. legit with the pinky up like royalty. comes in the cutest little fall knit sweater. does NOT participate in kareoke but hums along to the songs he knows. quietly makes bets with kenma on who is going to win, and he gets a couple of victories off of goshiki. also offers to do the dishes, but unlike tadashi, he doesn’t get another slice of pie because yaku ate it all. also brings daichi a card signed by him and bokuto. he’s very thankful. (sweet bb)

SHIRITORIZAWA

ushiwaka: there is no way this man isn’t excited. tbh he didn’t even think he’d get invited, and he actually ALMOST smiled when daichi offered. mans shows up in a turtleneck. TURTLENECK. legit wearing a rolex. why does he have drip? he’s got drip. for a big dude he doesn’t eat very much. threatens atsumu with his life if he ever DARES to shake salt in his champagne again. cracks a plate from gripping it too hard while waiting in line for the dessert. he’s excited, okay?

tendou: wears something weird. like a headbands with a candelabra on it or a giant turkey broach. brings a whole jug of orange juice for himself, and you bet that he finishes it within the first fifteen minutes. honestly, he probably dips his cabbage roll into the drink. also starts a conga line around the table while goshiki is singing. semi dares him to taste some of daichi’s dish soap, and of course he does it.

goshiki: NEVER HAS ANYONE EVER SEEN THIS MAN SO EXCITED. practically bouncing off the walls. eats way too fast. slips in the kitchen trying to get to the sink because he started choking on a green bean. becomes mesmerized by saeko and insists that he’s going to become the world’s best kareoke singer. picks every song about love. okay sam smith. tries to get suna to participate but receives a look that could kill. gets scared after that, but it motivates him to sing even better.

semi: practically skips the meal and goes straight for dessert. gets a harsh scolding from daichi but he doesn’t care. “accidentally” brings up the fact that ushiwaka cuts his food weirdly because he’s left handed. the whole table goes silent. semi passes away.

INARIZAKI

atsumu: literally just went to cause trouble. was he even invited? nobody knows. osamu was, but him? well. gets drunk within the first hour. tricks hinata into trying a bunch of kita’s disgusting ginger beers. constantly kicks samu under the table. throws a shoe across the room when daichi doesn’t let him have another drink. he’s loud. VERY loud. swears far too much and violently compliments daichi on the food. “this food is so fuckin good like hella delicious, i fuckin love thanksgiving! this is the shit!!”, “atsumu your brother made all the food”, “what”

osamu: just there for the food. literally made 3/4 of the dishes, including the turkey. makes fun of daichi for being the host and literally not making any of the food. “that’s embarrassing”, but really he offered to do it waaaaay before. constantly tells atsumu he has food in his teeth. over-salts suna’s turkey just because he feels like it. he’s the dude that encourages makki to drink the cranberry sauce. offers to help vacuum the floor clean of noya’s mess, but daichi is SO done with atsumu that samu just leaves early, dragging his brother with him.

suna: catches tendou drinking the dish soap. he’s not surprised. doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks away. legit doesn’t say anything to anyone tho. like mans shows up, eats and dips. has a one two conversation with ukai about court shoes, and then he’s gone. texts daichi later and thanks him, which is extremely shocking but daichi thinks it’s really nice.

kita: hates gatherings. i know this man just despises the loud and rowdy behaviour. puts mad dog in a headlock when the dude tries to fight kageyama over the turkey skin. eats and leaves zero mess. dabs at the corners of his mouth with napkin. washes his hands before and after everything. i just KNOW he’s polite too, but really gives it to semi when he mentions ushiwaka’s left handed eating. other:

OTHERS

aone: dresses cute. gets complimented by hinata and cant stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. like lev, he eats enough to feed a small town but makes sure everyone else goes before him at dessert time. tells yachi that he loves the donuts.

terushima: definitely wasn’t invited but heard through the grapevine. shows up with one plate of cookies and a violent growling stomach. immediately takes to the kareoke, even before dinner is over. randomly bursts into song halfway through his second plate of green bean casserole. thinks that singing louder = singing better.

sakusa: clearly doesn’t want to be there. brings his own food and his own drink, but doesn’t hesitate to down a bottle of noya’s cider. complains about how close hinata is sitting is sitting to him, and then pulls out a ruler for emphasis. “whoa! where did that come from??” “get away from me.”

[enbyprentiss]

High school: The Party

AU where Reid, Morgan, Garcia, JJ, Emily, and Y/N are in high school (they're all the same age, so that Reid isn't 12 lmao). Spencer and Y/N have an unlikely friendship, it's possible that they both want something more but...

Genre: fluff

Spencer x fem!reader

2.2k words

——————————————————————

Spencer and Y/N were sitting in her kitchen after school, "Coolest party trick, go!"

Spencer shrugged, "I don't go to parties, you know that", he laughed a little.

"Yeah, but- -you know what? I'll go first.", she waltzed past him and opened her fridge. She pulled out a can of whipped cream and put a swirl on her hand, "Are you ready?", she giggled.

"Mhm", Reid smiled.

Y/N took her free hand and slapped it across her wrist as she threw her arm up. The whipped cream landed in her mouth and she swallowed it before looking back at him with a huge smile, "Ta-da!"

"Impressive", he responded sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah whatever", she chuckled, "Your turn"

"Y/N/N, I don't go to parties. I said that."

"Would you?"

"What?"

"Would you ever go to a party?"

Spencer stuttered frantically, "I-I-I don't know. What do you even do at parties? I mean, it's not like anyone would invite me to one"

"You act like I get invited to them", she laughed.

"You do!", he giggled back.

"Well sure, some of them. But it's not like I'm popular, per se..."

"Yes, you are. Everyone likes you. But for some reason, that I'll never understand- - not that I'm complaining, you choose to hang out with me instead."

"Ok well, one- just because I'm known to be a jack of all trades it does not mean everyone from my extracurriculars likes me", she rolled her eyes, "and more importantly two, I choose to hang out with you", she punched him in the arm playfully, "because everyone else sucks dick. All the girls on the volleyball and the softball team think I have a crush on them. All the boys either make fun of me because I'm 'goth' or they just wanna hookup. And then there's you, you're so much better than all of them because talking to you is actually interesting, like a real conversation. Not just about dumb teenage shit that no one cares about."

Spencer turned a bright shade of pink. He always knew he had feelings for Y/N since they met at orientation four years ago. In fact, everyone knew that he liked her. Probably even her, but neither of them ever said anything. He was sure that it was because she didn't feel the same, but he always wondered what it would be like if she did. Other girls had shown interest in Spencer, mostly because he was smart and well- - tall, but it never went anywhere serious because all those girls just weren't, Y/N.

"As for your question, 'What do you do at parties?', there's two answers. What do I do at parties? And, What do normal people do at parties?"

"What do you do at parties?", Spencer was already laughing because he was sure he knew the answer.

"Well, I get a little too drunk, smoke like 3 blunts, look for other bi girls, but then I usually end up making out with like four guys. Oops.", she put her hand in front of her mouth before joining Reid in his laughter.

"Ok, ok- - What do normal people to at parties?"

"Typical popular MO is to get wasted, and dance while also irritating the shit out of everyone else there because they won't stop yelling, some kids smoke too, but mostly they try and see who can hookup with as many people as possible", she was still laughing so her words came out kind of broken.

"That sounds like hell."

"It is. If you're not wasted enough.", she finger-gunned him as she pushed her lips tightly together.

"That also, sounds like hell."

"It's not. Tell ya what, there's a party this weekend at Morgan's, come with me?"

"Morgan, like captain of the football team?", she nodded, "Absolutely not."

"Oh come on, Spence-"

"No, Y/N"

"Why not?", she began to pout.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably because they hate me.", he laughed but part of him sounded genuinely hurt. Y/N put her hand on top of his and rubbed her thumb back and forth, this wasn't odd for them though. Y/N had never been one to shy away from affection.

"They don't hate you, Spence. Although you being friends with me, does make you a threat and a cock-block. So if it seems like they do, that's probably why", she giggled to ease up the tension a little, "but I promise, they really don't. Morgan even said you must be pretty cool if I like hanging out with you. And he's right, ya know?", she removed her hand to playfully nudge his arm, "So will you go with me?"

He spent a minute thinking about it, "Fine. I want it to be clear that I really do not want to though, but I am making this sacrifice for you.", he rolled his eyes whilst smiling at her.

"Yay!", she squealed while wrapping him into her embrace. Spencer always blushed when ever she hugged him or held his hand even though she had been doing it forever. She pulled back with an almost evil smirk, "Look at you, Spencer Reid, going to his first high school party."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here", Y/N handed Spencer a drink she had poured for him as they pushed their way to Morgan's kitchen.

He sniffed it, "What the hell is in this?"

"Vodka but mostly cranberry juice."

"Based off of the smell, I would argue that this is mostly vodka.", he giggled.

"That may be so, but it'll help loosen you up. Up your chances of getting a girl to dance with you."

"The only girl that would ever dance with me is you."

"Not true. If I can get guys to dance with me, you can get at least one girl to."

"No, Y/N that's different."

"How so?"

"Because, you're actually...pretty. Ya know? People like you."

"Spencer, can I tell you a secret?"

He sighed dramatically, "Yeah"

She giggled at his dramatics, "Every girl that I'm friends with thinks that you're cute."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Spence, have I ever lied to you before?"

"No."

"Exactly.", Y/N turned to walk away.

"Where are you going? You're just gonna leave me here?"

"No, I'll be back.", he looked at her in disbelief, "Go be a big boy and talk to someone", she laughed but Spencer didn't seem to find it very funny. She walked back towards him and put her hand on his shoulder, "Spencer, you can literally stay right here or go find a random corner to stand in and someone will come up and talk to you. That's the great part about parties. Ok?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded in annoyance, "Great, I'll be back."

A few minutes later Y/N found Spencer standing against a wall looking down in his cup as he swirled it around, "How's it going?", she smiled.

"Fine...I guess", except now he wasn't looking in the cup or at Y/N, his eyes were locked on a blonde girl standing on the wall opposite of them.

Y/N turned to see who he was looking at, she turned back and raised her eyebrows, "Cute, huh?"

Spencer tried to say something but it mostly came out as panicked stuttering, "That is Ms. Jennifer Jareau but we call her JJ, well I call her blondie but", she laughed a little, "she's captain of the varsity soccer team, she's super sweet and smart I mean not nearly as smart as you but no one here is", she laughed again, "I think I know how I can get her to dance with you, but you just have to trust me and go with it. Ok?"

"Ok", already Spencer's worries increased because he knew that meant she was about to do something crazy.

"Step one, try not to look like you're gonna piss your pants dude", she giggled yet again so Spencer knew that she had definitely picked up a few more drinks while she was gone, "Step two just do as I say or- - do. Ok, when I say so, put your hands on my waist and don't freak out, just smile."

"I-I-I-I don't know Y/N"

"Well there's no time for worries", she grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist before wrapping her arms around his neck. Spencer swallowed thickly, his eyes widening as a huge blush spread across his face, "That doesn't look like a whole lot of smiling to me", she laughed.

"Sorry", he started to loosen up as he felt the alcohol begin to course through his veins.

"This is where I need you to trust me", Y/N guided Spencer's hands more towards her hips. As they continued to dance like this Y/N put her hand on Spencer's check and swiped her thumb across his lips briefly. She turned to check if JJ was looking at them, when she saw she was she quickly looked back at Spencer and whispered, "You're welcome.", before walking off.

Reid felt his heart rate increase as JJ walked towards him, she stuck her hand out, "I'm JJ"

"Spencer", he rejected the handshake, "Sorry, I have a thing about germs."

"What are you doing here then?"

"I-I-I don't know. I was dragged here against my will.", he giggled.

"Yeah, I could tell this wasn't really your scene."

"Is it really that bad?"

"No, you just don't seem like the type."

Spencer felt bad because even though he was listening to what JJ was saying, he kept looking to where Y/N was standing in a group. He thought JJ was beautiful, she just...wasn't the girl he wanted to be spending the night with.

JJ looked back to the kitchen to see what Reid was looking at, "You like her, don't you?"

"Y/N? No, she-she's just- - my best friend, only friend really. She's the one who dragged me here in the first place."

"If you like her, you should just go for it.", all that came from Spencer was more stuttering, "Come on, let's go talk to her.", before he could protest he was already being dragged along by his wrists.

"Hey blondie.", Y/N's eyes met Spencer's sure enough they were still full of panic, "Uh- - JJ, Spencer, this is", she gestured with her arm, "Morgan, Emily, and Penelope."

They all got to talking for a bit before Y/N quietly excused herself.

"So, are you ever gonna ask her out, pretty boy?", Morgan asked Spencer.

"I-I...no."

"Aww, why not?", the quite cheery and probably drunk Penelope cooed.

"I don't know- - it's just...not like that.", he shook his head.

"Are you serious? It's so obvious she likes you.", Emily laughed. Her and Y/N were sort of similar, same sense of humor and 'gothic' style.

"No, she doesn't.", Spencer replied, "It's just I can't risk it", he was certain he was tipsy now, he couldn't believe he was being so honest with people he had just met.

"What's the worst that could happen?", JJ asked.

"She's my only friend. If I tell her I have feelings and she doesn't feel the same, I have no one left."

Penelope wrapped him in a warm embrace, "Don't say that! You have us now!"

"Just go for it, kid.", Morgan patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, if I know Y/N, she's probably in the bathroom throwing up so...", she looked at JJ who was starting to catch her drift.

"Maybe you should go, check on her", JJ nudged his arm and winked at him twice.

Spencer rolled his eyes at his new found friends and began to push his way to the bathroom. He knocked softly on the door, "Y/N are you ok?", the door swung open. Y/N was sitting on top of the counter rinsing her mouth with mouthwash.

She spit it out, "All good.", she replied weakly.

"Jesus, does this happen to you every time?", he laughed.

"Oh yeah, usually twice actually.", she attempted to make her tone happier, but it wasn't working.

Spencer wrapped her in a hug, "Is that also gonna happen to me?", he laughed.

"I don't know, we've never tested your tolerance, but probably not."

Neither of them said anything as they pulled away from the hug, but Spencer's eyes kept flicking down to Y/N's lips back to her eyes. She must of picked up on this because as her tongue flicked over her bottom lip she looked down towards the floor. Before she even knew it Spencer's lips were pressed against hers with his hands on either side of her face.

He pulled back and she looked at him in disbelief, "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Oh god", he turned to get out of the bathroom.

Y/N caught him by the wrist, "No, it's ok", she pulled him back towards her and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him softly again, "Can you believe it's taken us four years to do that?", she laughed as her forehead rested against his when they finally pulled away.

"We wasted so much time, huh?", he laughed back.

——————————————————————

i wrote this from kind of a weird POV but by the time i realized it was too late lmao. i promise they won't all be like this.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

What if like Harry was rude to YN (they aren't dating) and she just feels really sad and stops hanging out with him and then he feels bad

YN’s a hard person to upset.

She’s very independent and strong-willed, she’s tough and doesn’t show any weaknesses, she’s very level-headed with situations and she doesn’t let things bother her like they would other people so, to upset her and for her to take any action in proving that she was sad by what was said, Harry would have had to have said something that was very personal to her.

He’s not shallow so I don’t think he’d go for her looks and he’s not ignorant to be rude about her ways of life or what she chooses to support and protest so it really would have to be something that she feels strongly about, something that she sees as important, something that he used against her to try and entice a laugh out of their friends.

The day it happens, her day had gone from bad to terrible. 

She woke up late and missed the breakfast times at her local bakery, she had a short but sweet argument with her agent over something work-related that she could get round to in her own time, her parents demanded she travelled back to home so they could spend time with her at the weekend, she was an hour late for a meeting at lunch with a potential (and rather important) client who wanted her to use her platform to recommend their company and she’d forgotten her keys and locked herself out of her flat and had to walk, in the pouring rain, to her landlord’s home that was just down the block from her complex so she could take her spare key and give it back straight after.

When she walks into the local pub on the corner of a street in Hammersmith, dressed in a cream knit-jumper, some black jeans and ankle-high boots, and sees her friends already sharing a round and filling the pub with  raucous laughter, she doesn’t expect anything to happen and she doesn’t even bat an eye to the knowledge that the night could (and would) end so poorly because it already felt like it was going to be a good stress reliever for her. She orders for herself - a vodka and cranberry juice - and mingles her way through the tipsy drinkers to get to her friends.

She hugs her girlfriends, shares an inside greeting with her boyfriends and she receives a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze to her shoulders from Harry as he takes her coat, drapes it over his and lets her have the seat he was sitting in so she could perch next to one of her friends. 

Nothing wrong about it.

He kept an arm resting on the back of her chair as he took swigs from his beer bottle, fingers brushing over her upper arm as she tried to stay in her deep conversation, clueless to how he kept taking secret glances at her and how he smiled every time she bellowed out a laugh at something that someone had done. Knees knocking under the table. They were friendly touches, the caring kind that showed friends looking out for one another, and that’s what they hoped they looked like to everyone around them. 

Still nothing wrong about it.

The night passes and the number of friends decreases by two or three every hour that passed by until it was just the two of them, in an almost empty pub, finishing the last of their drinks and finished up their conversation... more abrupt and sudden than Harry had thought.

They were only talking about work when things took a turn.

He was on a break from a world tour, the first of many to come, and all she needed was a night away from talking about work so she wasn’t best pleased to talk when he brought the subject up but she wasn’t rude enough to turn the conversation away when they hadn’t seen each other in a while; catching up like old friends do, that’s what they were doing. 

But the more sips he took, the drunker he seemed to get and his words slurred much deeper and longer than normal, with eyes so distant and watery that this definitely had to be his last beer and she would have him in a taxi and on his way home before the pub became vacant. So when he accidentally slipped that her job sounded pointless, that he couldn’t understand why anyone would ever venture into it, that he didn’t understand why it was ever a career and that she can’t be getting any money to care for herself and that she must have been getting financial aid from somewhere, she’s out of her chair with a frown and a ‘goodbye’ before he could put her beer down.

Eyes following her as she yanked the door open and let it bang behind her. The foggy glasses distorting her figure as she walked passed where they were sat and disappeared from the windowpane before he could blink. Guilt sitting in his veins, overtaking the alcohol that seemed to build inside him, bottom lip between his teeth as he stood to his feet and scuffed across the sticky floor to put his half-finished beer bottle on the side. 

“Bye, mate!” being the last thing he heard, from the bartender who was drying glasses behind the bar, before he took the stumbling walk home.

They both sleep the night off; Saturday morning was mere hours away and the apology could wait until he had a clear head and a solid argument as to why he said what he said.

Except all he could think about was how she left without their usual goodbye; they didn’t hug, they didn’t share drunken kisses to the cheek, they didn’t agree to call each other in the morning or organise a breakfast or brunch date so they could feast their hungover stomachs together. She didn’t promise to call him when she got home; and by god, he hoped she got home okay. She went home and, as much as it hurt him to think about, cried. He know she did. He knew that’s was why she left so quickly. He knew that that he upset her and he felt like an arsehole.

*

“Hey, love. It’s Harry. A very apologetic, guilt-ridden Harry. Although, I probably came up on your screen, I forget you have my number. At least, I hope you do after last night which I’m incredibly sorry for. I don’t know what came over me, I don’t know why I said it and I know it’s lousy to blame it on the alcohol but you know I don’t drink like that very often and- and I’m making excuses. Poor effort on my end. I’m really sorry. Like, incredibly and terribly sorry... hope to see you soon. I really hope last night didn’t ruin anything between us. Bye, love.”

*

“Hi, love. So, you either didn’t get my last voicemail or you chose to ignore it... I wouldn’t blame you if you ignored it, to be honest. Grovelling for forgiveness. I would ignore it, too. It was a bad apology. I don’t know what came over me and I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about you, the strongest person I know, being so down and upset over something I, the biggest prick I know, said. Something that I said when I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying. I’ve sent you a small something in the post; I don’t know when you’ll get it but I made sure it was first class... first class post for a first class girl, I guess. See you soon? Bye.”

*

“Hey, so, this will be the last voicemail I send and then you can have all the time in the world to be alone, to think about what you want to do, to moan about me to your friends so they can hate me too or you can slate me online. I deserve it. I rather you than a friend; as much as I like your mates, they’re tough and you deserve someone like them to fight with you. I hope you liked the flowers and the doughnuts I sent you. From your local bakery since I know you love them a whole lot. Went there for lunch yesterday and it may just be my favourite place too... hopefully we can go together one day? Maybe, for a date? Or something. If you wanted to. I’m not saying you should because of what I said but- and I’m waffling. Oh, they do good waffles, too. Anyway, I miss you. I’m still incredibly sorry for how I handled the situation and I hope this can be resolved again soon. See you, love.”

*

When it’s still radio silence, he lets her be.

Until one Monday evening, two weeks later, when they both stumbled into one another in her local bakery; YN being there to grab something small for dinner and Harry being there to grab a coffee on his way back to the tube station after being on his feet all day. 

“Harry-”

“YN-”

He laughs softly and he’s surprised to hear a soft giggle escape her mouth. Her bag slipping from her shoulder and a white paper bag, smelling strongly of a warm ham and cheese panini (and, knowing her, a blueberry muffin in there for her dessert). His cheeks flushing pink when she looks at him.

“New favourite place,” he nods slowly before his eyes widen, “not because you live around her or anything. I’m not stalking you or anything. You keep telling me to try it and I did a couple of weeks ago and-”

“I know,” she interrupts, reaching forward to squeeze his forearm, “it’s good to see you.”

He sighs with relief.

“Listen, about what I said, I’m still incredibly sorry. I think I will be for the rest of my life,” he says gently, guiding the both of them out of the way so they weren’t in the way of the queue to the till, “I don’t want you to think that that’s what I think about your career or anything. It was stupidity and ignorance all coming out at once... my ego needs a knock back and I think you did that. Right with a baseball bat.”

She smiles softly, tugging the corner of her lips.

“It’s okay. I think I’ve let you suffer a lot more than intended,” she admits a little sheepishly, “I’ve brought two blueberry muffins if you want to have one? I know you like them so you can’t fool me. We can go back to mine?”

“Can I grab something to eat then?”

“I’ll meet you there? You know where I live,” she grins, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “still best friends so don’t worry.”

She walks away from him and he watches her disappear around the corner of her complex, hair blowing in the wind and her hands tugging on her coat to sit a little tighter and warmer around her body, eyes squinting in the wind. A huge weight being lifted from his shoulders as he queued behind a little old lady who couldn’t help but admit that the two of them would make such a sweet couple one day... xx

[dokidokey]

all you wanted was a banana cake but you also made a successful, albeit messy, red velvet someway.

fluffvember track 09: food fight

word count: 1575

warnings: mentions of fire & of burning a whole house that is all

notes: idek my exams are tomorrow but letssss gooooo

FLUFFVEMBER MASTERLIST

“Do banana cakes have frosting?” You ask Tendou as he stirs the batter of your banana cake, his apron matching the crimson shade of his head. You can’t help but admire him under the 8 AM sunlight filtered through your glass windows in your tiny apartment, his red hair and red apron standing out from the white background of your kitchen.

Tendou hums, looking up from the bowl to you. “Depends. Why?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “all the banana cakes I’ve had when I was a kid were from this local cake shop and they’re all sliced. The carrot cake, too.”

“So you’ve never had a whole carrot cake with the frosting?”

“Nope,” you say, pouting and shaking your head side to side, smiling slightly to yourself as Satori pours the batter into two rectangular pans. For a chocolatier that only tried this recipe with you because you kept pestering him the moment you woke up, you think this experiment will end up good. You sure hope so or all your effort will go to waste.

Tendou taps the side of one of the pans and calls you over, tipping his head slightly at the side. “Do the honors of putting your precious banana cake in the oven.”

You originally wanted a carrot cake (one with frosting and like, a real cake) but it was so early you didn’t have enough energy for a quick early morning grocery run, so you ended up making a banana cake instead with what’s left of the banana sitting in your kitchen counter.

Picking up the pans, you crouch down in front of the oven and place them neatly inside, humming happily to yourself as you close it and click it on, satisfied at the sounds of the machine.

“There,” you stand back, rubbing your palms on your black apron, “we wait 30 minutes, right?” You ask Satori for confirmation because you really aren’t sure. You didn’t bother to read the recipe because Tendou was there to read it for you. All you did was mix whatever he told you to.

It’s not that you’re lazy. Not really. But the trauma of setting your kitchen on fire never quite left you. At eight, without any adult supervision, you almost set your whole kitchen (and house, probably, if your parents had not come home any sooner,) on fire. All you wanted was some omelet but somehow got distracted. You didn’t know the kitchen was on fire until you heard ceramics break. Walking back in the kitchen, you saw the ceiling and your cupboards (both the floating and the lower ones) on fire, the reason why the plates and glasses fell.

You’d never talk about how bad you got reprimanded for that.

Since then, you never cooked on your own, much less stay inside the kitchen, unless you have someone with you. It’ll take a lot of convincing for you to open the stove or light a candle inside your home.

“You could just make this on your own,” Tendou says, opening your fridge and taking out an orange juice box.

Scoffing, you get two clear glasses from your floating shelf. “As if. You’d never see me start a fire inside this home ever.”

“There aren’t any fires involved,” he says obviously, raising an eyebrow at the oven holding your banana cakes.

“No, thank you. What if I forget or whatever? What if it decides to, I don’t know, malfunction? I’d hate to set this whole apartment on fire, you know?”

Satori just chuckles at your little rant, pouring you both a half glass of orange juice. He’d once complained to you why you only have orange juice and not pineapple or cranberry or apple. Orange juice is the only juice you can stomach ever.

“If you had a longer attention span then you’d probably be a chef right now. An omelet at eight? Pretty impressive.”

You scowl at him. “Yeah, pretty impressive of me to almost turn our whole house to ashes. So talented of me!”

Tendou laughs, downing his juice and moving toward the sink. He starts piling the dirty plates and containers in the corner. 

“You’re lucky you never got to－”

The banana sure will taste good if it ends up right because the batter is sweet on your lips, courtesy of Satori smearing it on you after dipping his fingers on the leftover batter on the bowl. Licking your lips to clean it off, you glare at him, eyeing the bowl that he put next to him.

“Tastes good?” He asks, holding back his laughter, scarlet eyes shining in mirth. You say nothing but you do quickly scour off some portion of the batter to your finger and wiping it on his cheek. You throw your head back at the light yellow color contrasting his pretty pale complexion.

“Tastes good?” You mimic, scooping some more and painting his chin and jaw with the sticky mixture. There’s a smirk playing at the ends of his lips and you should have seen it coming but the slimy feeling of the leftover eggs being thrown at your collarbone area is absolutely disgusting. A shiver whacks through your whole body as it trickles down the inside of your shirt and on your chest.

“Satori!” You complain, a scoff and a laugh merging into an absurd sound, laying a palm on your skin to somehow rid of the egg but you just shudder. “This is cheating!”

Tendou moves on the other side of the island, clutching a bowl of whatever leftover ingredients you had. “It’s not!” He giggles, clutching a handful of flour and flicking it on your face. A surprised gasp finds its way out of your lips, blinking repeatedly as you try to see through the power caught on your eyelashes.

A sudden idea for a payback lights up in your head as you whine. “Satori, I can’t see.”

“Oh, really?” He muses, clearly unconvinced. But you make an act of rubbing your closed eyelids and trying to blink your eyes open which you purposely don’t fully open, another whine of complaint coming from you.

This time, Satori relents. He puts down his bowl of flour on the marble top and makes his way over to you, a guilty expression on his face. He coos as he stands close, hands gentle as they hover over your face.

“Let me see,” he says and behind you, you grasp whatever it is you first touch, hoping it has something in it or else your act of revenge will fail. Gripping the container tight around your fist, you bring it forward and shove it on Tendou’s chest. He steps back, aghast, feeling his clothes soak in the water. You aren’t content though so you shove the rest of what’s left in the pitcher, this time on his face. His red eyes are wide in shock as he looks at you.

“Y/N,” he bemoans, a hand wiping the water off his pretty face, “this is cheating.”

“It’s nooooot,” you sing, shaking the pitcher on your hold tauntingly, moving away from him in case he tries to get you soaked too by hugging you. You place the pitcher on the island beside his bowl of flour, picking a handful and throwing the powder at him. A cackle slips past your throat at how he looks, cakes with flour that is sticking to his face because it was wet and the right side of his cheek and jaw a little uneven from the batter you smeared on it earlier. “You look really pretty, Tori,” you snicker.

“I bet,” he grins, winking at you and even holding up a peace sign in the air.

“We’re taking pictures after!” You announce, grabbing an egg and hurling it toward him, which he quickly dodges. The egg lands on the wall, slipping down the tiles in a yellowish goo. Damn him and his quick instincts. There’s a victorious, “hah!” from him, grabbing the banana peels on the counter and chucking it at you, hitting you square in the face.

“There you go,” he smiles, stealing the bowl of flour and grabbing a handful on his left hand, a handful of batter on his right. He molds the two to make it like a little snowball, the little ball barrelling in your direction. You barely step away from it, catching you by the neck. Your scream from the impact slowly bleeds out into loud peaks of laughter, head thrown back with a hand on the fridge door for support.

“Please, please no more,” you beg between giggles, eyeing Satori as he closes the distance between the two of you. His arms quickly make their way around your waist, his own laughter spilling past his lips.

He raises his eyebrows with a smile on his face, eyes shining. “You surrendered when I took most of the blows?”

You laugh harder, wiping his face clean with your palms. “You look like a badly made cake,” you wheeze.

“I’m your badly made cake,” he says, leaning his face closer to yours. With giggles still erupting from within you, you tip your head back away from his face.

“A red velvet one,” you grin, hands coming up at the back of his neck, playing with the red strands of his hair. Satori hums, pecking you once, twice, until you’re laughing again because he managed to smear what was on his face to yours.

this was late (and uh, a little all over the place) but whatever hahdiejdjd

[highkeyhans]

“right person, wrong time” is real.

In 2017 my band from my old music school played at this cafe alongside other bands who were also from the same music school. My band was the 4th to go on stage, right after some all boy group. I sat down at a table with my parents, sipping on my watermelon juice with less ice waiting my turn and noticed a pretty girl wearing a black t-shirt who looked around my age and i was attracted to. Her table was close to mine and i kept looking at her the whole night.

What was so intriguing about her? Why did i keep looking at her? Should i stop? Am i being creepy?

Then I snapped out of my train of thought and when i heard the announcer announce that my band is up next. I nervously gripped on my drumsticks and proceeded to the stage with the rest of my bandmates. I felt the eyes of that mystery girl on me and i knew i couldn’t look at her or else i’d be too nervous and i might just gay panic on stage so i ignored her and tried to play it cool.

My band and i played pretty well and we got a loud applause from the crowd. The songs we played were

When You’re Gone by The Cranberries

Enter Sandman by Metallica

Lifestyle Of The Rich & The Famous by Good Charlotte

Time Is Running Out by Muse (my favourite song to play on the drums)

I poured my whole entire heart and soul that night just to impress that mystery girl and unfortunately i never got her number and i did not get to talk to her. I left later that night filled with regret but i didn’t even know her so i decided not to dwell on it but i couldn’t help it so the next day when i went to school i fangirled about her to my besties.

Eventually the fangirling died down since there was nothing to fangirl about anymore. She was just some mystery girl at one of my gigs. Will i even see her again?

Time skip to 2020.

My love for drums started dying down and i picked up the guitar instead. Other than that what’s new is that i started making tik toks. I thought the idea of making a tik tok was cringe till i tried it out..

it was suprising fun.

i posted a few tik toks and received a lot of love and because of tik tok, a lot of people have been joining my instagram live just to chat with me. I’ll forever be thankful for that.

One day a random user joined and her username caught my eye. It was just her name, nothing strange or fancy but her name was beautiful and it rolled off my tongue nicely and so as i was introducing myself to her i kept moving my face closer to the screen to get a better look at her profile picture. When you go on instagram live, everyone’s profile picture appears smaller so i had to go close and squint and my goodness.. she was beautiful. I could only see her side profile but man, she already had me simping for her.

Fast forward after that, we started talking via instagram DM. We grew closer and closer each day and with each day i caught myself growing more and more in love with her.

One day i finally worked up the courage and asked her for her number and we whatsapped each other and whilst waiting for her reply i decided to stalk her instagram. I didn’t do it before when we first met out of respect but since we were already on a certain level i just carried on. I saw her instagram highlight and noticed a familiar venue.

It was...

It was the café i performed at..

and so i began to ask her questions and it turns out she was there to see her cousin perform. She also confessed to eyeing me that night but we were both too shy to do anything about it.

I guess maybe the universe just wanted us to meet a little later in life when we’re both older, wiser and capable of having a better understanding of love.

Now, today, 17th Feb, it’s been 11 months since we started dating. I’m dating the mystery girl, my mystery girl and this is our love story.

[scaryscarecrows]

Beggar, Pick Up Your Crown

AN: Title from Jerry Cantrell’s ‘Siddhartha’. Takes place the day after ‘Out of Hell’.

Happy birthday, Jason!

* * * 

Jason wakes from the...he’s thinking the third-best nights’ sleep he’s had in his whole life. First one was...pfft, one’a those random nights, Mom had been feeling okay, and they’d stayed up to see the sunrise and made s’mores on the stove. Second had been after his first. His. Patrol. First patrol.

He has no idea what time it is, and he’s afraid to open his eyes, lest last night turn out to be a dream. He stays still for the moment, concentrating on the cheap hotel mattress under his still-aching body, the smell of complimentary soap and cleaner and that lingering people have been born, had sex, and probably died in this room smell that these sorts of places have. He can hear rain and traffic and general Gotham Living outside and in the rooms around him.

And he’s hungry.

Okay. Okay. He’s woken up out of nice dreams before, and it hurts, but. But he can do it again. One more time.

Please…

He cracks his eyes open.

The room is beige and...rusty orange...and very bright. Well, bright to him, anyway. It’s empty, but he rolls over and, muscles protesting the whole time, peers under the bed. Zilch.

Still unconvinced he’s not hallucinating or unwillingly playing one of the clown’s head games, Jason stumbles out of the warm bed, ankle cracking horribly when he makes it take his weight, and shuffles to the bathroom. Nothing. Nothing in the shower, or wedged into the little cabinet under the sink. He’s alone here.

He lets his breath out slowly, slumping forward against the sink to take some of the pressure off his ankle. He’ll have to look at it later, look at everything later, but...but not now. Not this second, huh?

His hair’s too long; his bangs are in his eyes and he can feel dead ends scraping the back of his neck. No way in hell is he letting anyone near him with scissors. That’s okay. He did self-trims when he was a kid.

He’s out.

He’s out, he’s free of that monster. That bastard’s never going to hurt him ever again. The thought makes him lightheaded, brings an unfamiliar twist to his lips that feels like it might be a smile.

And then he makes the mistake of looking up at the mirror.

The boy-no, he’s not a boy anymore, is he-looking back at him looks dead. He’s pasty white, thin and hollow-cheeked with no spark to his eyes. There’s cuts and gashes all over his face, his nose is crooked, and...and there’s that. The brand on his face, the one that still hurts, the one that screams to the world, PROPERTY OF THE JOKER, IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN!

I’ll never get away from him.

The mirror shatters under his fist, shards jabbing in between his knuckles and falling into the sink and bouncing off the counter to hit the tiles by his feet. He doesn’t care. He can’t face this he can’t face this he can’t--

This is too much for his ankle; it buckles and then he’s kneeling in the glass, sobbing so hard it’s silent and hurts his throat and chest. He chokes, doubles over so’s his forehead’s pressed against his knees, bites down on his lips to try and...and…

Willis always said, ‘boys don’t cry’. Bruce hadn’t...he’d never known what to do with tears. Or any outpouring of emotion, for that matter. And Joker had loved them. But Jason? Right now, he doesn’t care about any of that. He wants Mom, but Mom can’t be here anymore.

It takes him several minutes to register that the tears have stopped and that he’s just...huddled here on the floor with glass jutting out of his skin. The glass doesn’t hurt, but his ankle does and he slowly and carefully brings it up to investigate.

It’s swollen and hot to the touch and it...something about it doesn’t look quite right. He’ll wrap it, he decides, he’ll get a compression bandage or something later today. Okay. He’s okay. He’s just gotta breathe, get up, clean this mess up because he was raised better than to leave this shit for the housekeeper, and then...if he is where he thinks he is, there’s a bodega two blocks south, one that has a gray tabby that lounges in the window. They’ll have a thing of chips or something he can choke down (safely), maybe bandages. Definitely a hoodie, at least, a nice touristy hoodie.

He can make it two blocks. Like he’s got a choice, but he can make it two blocks.

* * *

The smell of rotting watermelons, cheap ice cream bars, and packaged bread is possibly one of the best things Jason’s ever smelled in his life. He’s starving, and now, confronted with food choices, he knows he’s gonna have to exercise some restraint and not just devour a stale baguette in the middle of the store. Crackers. And maybe a soup-cup-thing, that’s mild. And, uh, cranberry juice, yeah, that’s sorta healthy. And a Reese’s. If the Reese’s makes him sick, it’ll be worth it.

The owner is dancing lightly to the mariachi on the radio and the cat is more interested in the birds outside than in him, which means he can limp through the store on his own sweet time. They do have bandages, and the food he thinks he can do, and a red hoodie* proclaiming, I Survived Gotham. It’ll do.

What’s worrying him-apart from, you know, everything else-is where he found money last night. He doesn’t remember a damn thing after leaving Arkham, and it scares him. Mystery for later, though, because he’s hungry and grateful he doesn’t have to rob the bodega man, who-miracle of miracles-doesn’t so much as look up at him. He pulls the hoodie on the second he’s outside, though, tugs the hood up to try and cover the damn thing at least a little.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He can’t go back to him-he’ll die first-and he can’t...s’like they say, you can never go home again. If Wayne Manor was ever home. 

Left me he left me with him he said he’d always be there and he fucking left me with that bastard--

He just doesn’t know what to do.

He stumbles back into the hotel room, debates on whether or not he wants to use the grody microwave provided, and decides that yes, yes he does. This will be the first real food he’s had in over a year and he wants to try and enjoy it, if that’s possible.

Man, he hasn’t had one of these in...geeze, since before Mom died. They’re not Old Money Approved, after all. Good. He’s not Old Money Approved, either.

It’s done, he decides, when it pops and the lid gets all soft and hot. It smells okay. Safe, anyway, no hint of Joker venom or any other little surprises. The steam curls around his face, making the...the burn a little tender, but it’s fine. It’s fine. He bought it all sealed up and he’s the only one who’s touched it. He took off the safety tin.

So why can’t he eat it? His appetite’s vanished, even though he knows he needs to eat, it’s just…

You gotta eat, baby.

That sounds like Mom, and it should be concerning, but...he does need to eat. And he can’t just chug it, either, much as he’d like to get it over with. He’s gotta be slow and careful.

Cracker! He’ll dip a cracker in.

The soup’s hot and salty on his tongue, miles above the slop he’s been eating in the asylum. Once he swallows the slightly soggy cracker, his appetite returns with a vengeance and it’s an effort not to pour half the column of crackers in, smash them to bits with the spoon, and eat the resulting mush here and now. But he can’t. He’ll be sick. Hell, he might be sick anyway, who knows.

He dunks another cracker in, catches a wispy noodle on it this time. Jesus. Jesus Christ, this is it, he’s living on soup and crackers forever, this is the best thing he’s eaten in his life--

--no. No it isn’t, is it. Alfred. Alfred made…

Not now. Just eat.

That’s right. He can’t think about anything, that’s not...he’s spent a long time, trapped in his own head. Not now. He can’t do that now. Food first.

The soup goes down easily enough, the cran juice a little less so but it stays in, and then he has to admit that yup, time for some self-examination.

He’s not facing the mirror-or what’s left of it-again. It’s better to stay here, to strip off despite knowing that hotel beds are scuzzy, and, well, survey the damage. And there is a lot of damage. Burn scars, wire scars, marks he can’t even begin to trace. He doesn’t really want to know what his back looks like, but he’ll have to find out.

Further poking the ankle says that oh, sure, it’s...healing, or maybe as good as it’s gonna get, but that squeezing certain spots of it makes his vision go white and over-manipulating it is worse than that. He puts the bandage on it, because what else can he do, and struggles back into his clothes. No more. He can’t do more right now.

* * *

Jason does not mean to fall into a fitful sleep, but that’s what happens. He wakes up gasping and soaked in sweat, a man’s shouting echoing in his ears. Sounds like Willis.

After a minute of lying here, he comes to realize that it isn’t Willis, and it isn’t a dream. It’s...lobby, something’s going on in the lobby.

Shit.

It’s hard to move as steathily as he used to, but he’s still quieter than the average schmuck when he slips out of bed and opens the door to creep down the hall. It’s late, which means the clerk should be alone, which makes them easy pickings. People never change, much as Batman insists that they do.

The shouting man has a gun. He’s wearing a scarf around the lower half of his face and he’s actually kinda big. Looks plenty comfortable threatening a woman half his size.

He doesn’t think, just moves; grabs one of the little chairs near the doors and hurls it

Owowowow not good movement not good

at the man’s back. He trips, gun falling from his fingers and sliding under the desk. The woman, wisely, ducks.

“What the fuck--oh, we got us a Batman-wannabe.” The guy cracks his back. “Come on, then, hero.”

He’s out of practice. Doesn’t mean he’s helpless. He dodges the oncoming haymaker and retaliates by going straight for the jugular.

Or, in this case, the balls. Fighting fair does not get you far in life.

The bravado vanishes. It’s hard to be badass when you’re shrieking like a little girl with your testicles twisted in a fist. Jason lets go, headbutts him to get him down, and steps around him to fish the gun out from under the desk.

“Get the hell out of here,” he says, more out of breath than he should be after that. His shoulders hurt from the throw. That can’t be good. “Or pray to God Batman shows up to save you in the next thirty seconds.”

“You son of a bitch--”

“Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven--”

“I’ll kill you!”

He cocks the gun. Little awkwardly, it’s true-Bruce taught him the absolute bare minimum of gun handling-but it gets his point across.

“Twenty-six. Twenty-five.”

The man can’t quite get upright, but he manages to hobble outside. Jason doesn’t chase after him. He’s shaking, a little, and the gun’s awkward in his hand.

“Thank you.” Oh. Yeah. He forgot about her. “I don’t know--he wanted money, I guess--”

“Don’t they all.” He doesn’t turn around. He can’t; he’s way too identifiable. “You’re welcome.” Back to his room it is, to get his crap and clear out. “I’m gonna check out before the cops show.”

“I’m not calling them.” Huh. “They never come. That’s the third time in two months we’ve had someone in here.”

Figures.

He doesn’t answer-what do you say, huh?-, just shuffles back to his room. He doesn’t realize, until the door’s locked behind him, that he’s still got the gun.

Well, he figures, as he stumbles back towards the bed, at least if Joker manages to track him here, he won’t have to go back. He’ll kill the clown or himself, it doesn’t matter which, but he’s not going back.

He crawls under the blankets this time, tries to get a little more comfortable. It must work, because in five minutes, he’s out. Nothing wakes him this time.

THE END

*Arkham!Jason has a fondness for red hoodies even pre-Red Hood; both baby Jay and grown-up Jay are shown wearing one in the prequels. For obvious reasons. :p