#the crew is the customers who ask me insane questions

[undercoverangell]

im just like odysseus but if instead of being stuck in a cave with a cyclops he had to work retail with a terrible manager

[itaehynz]

SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. — C.YJ

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive.

breakdown/summary: yeonjun is sooo seven coded — based off the song ‘seven’ by jungkook, i can no longer contain these thoughts about yeonjun 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i just know he’d be so consistent when it comes to him being in love with someone, like a lovesick puppy!

warnings: profanity, suggestive words, yeonjun is kind of a himbo (?), reader is a bit mean at first but she warms up to him, yeonjun does not give up at all.

yeonjun who is confused at first, as to why you’re not giving him the attention everyone else does? is there something wrong with him, is he ugly? it can’t be that. or maybe you just don’t get the hype of being so obsessed with him? ding ding ding. he’s first thinking to himself, maybe i can attract them with flowers? and that’s when he starts his mission:

getting you and your attention.

yeonjun, who tries to get you within a week’s time, if he can’t get you by saturday, he’ll leave you be… well, he would but he’s way too prideful, he knows he can get you within a week.

—

SUNDAY.

he drops off a bouquet of flowers to your house, thank god you were home at the time. he feels as if he’s already had you wrapped around his finger before you text him.

tloml <3: don’t drop off shit at my house w/o letting me know first. i’m throwing them away + i still don’t want you.

ouch, that was harsh. he thinks to himself, typing a response for your “cruel” response to his offering.

you: y/nnn :( why do you hate me?

tloml <3: i don’t hate you, i just don’t like how you’re trying to throw yourself at me. can’t you take a hint?

you: well for one, i’m not throwing myself at you. it’s just when i want something, i don’t stop until i get it. and two, no, i cannot take a hint especially when it’s coming from you! 😋

tloml <3: yeonjun, please get the fuck off my phone. i gave you my number so you can ask me about the comic you purchased, not so you can send flowers to my home. next time you send something to my house, i’m going to find you and bash your smug face into cement.

you: oh my gosh you said my name 🤭 hearing you say that makes me so happy, you don’t even understand.

tloml <3: i’m not even really saying it…

you: so? i can hear it in my head.

tloml <3: you’re insane, don’t text me again.

he tries sending another message but it doesn’t go through, that’s when he finally realizes what you did. you BLOCKED him. he’s in utter shock. did he go too far? what if you hate him now? he shakes these thoughts away with a swipe of a hand through his hair. i guess i’ll just have to work harder for these next days.

—

MONDAY.

yeonjun decides to bring food and flowers (again) to your job! he sees you from the window of his car, working the front register. your hair is tied up into a ponytail, you’re wearing a beige crew neck with the words “new york” embroidered on it, loose gray sweatpants & old high top converse.

good thing you work in a comic book store.

yeonjun thinks you look absolutely stunning. he leaves his car to approach the store, walking in with his chin held high plus the food and flowers in hand. you hear the bell above the front door ring, looking up to greet the new customer.

“hello! welcome to the eternal comic store, how can i-” you sigh, “what do you want, yeonjun?” you say as he looks at you with a bright smile.

“ohhh you know nothing, just wanted to drop these off for you,” he places the food and flowers on the counter, hoping you’ll atleast take something. you look at him annoyed, not understanding what’s so special about you that he continues to keep trying with you… you’re starting to like it.

“thank you but, can i ask you a question?” he nods. “why do you keep trying to get at me? i already said i don’t like you, was that not enough? do i have to punch you in the face?” you ask, irritation slowly making its way into your tone.

yeonjun raises his eyebrows, not expecting that question but still knowing his answer. “y/n, the first minute i walked in this store i just felt myself gravitating towards you. you have this type of aura, i don’t know how to describe it,” he pauses, resting his head on his chin.

“it’s just like, you’re comforting? yeah that, even though you’ve been nothing but mean to me… i can tell that’s just you having your guard up to protect yourself and i get it. but besides you having a comforting aura, you’re just really pretty and i’d also like to get to know you because you seem cool! and, please do not punch me, i might cry.” he finishes, straightening his lips into a thin line.

you blink, trying to understand everything. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out, so you just roll your eyes and nod. he watches your expression with the same smile on his face, admiring how nice your eyes are.

“thank you for the food and flowers yeonjun, but please get out of the store,” you finally say, rushing a hand through your hair. he catches the small smile you give him and nods before saying, “alsooo, do you mind unblocking my number? i won’t annoy you but can you please just do it?” he asks with a small pout.

you nod shooing him away and pulling out your phone to do so. he smiles widely, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

even though he annoys you to no end, he’s very consistent and it’s something you slightly admire. just slightly.

—

TUESDAY.

yeonjun comes back to your job with nothing to give except his conversation. he waves at you as he walks in, not caring how you stare at him blankly instead of waving back.

this time he came in with a friend, a friend named soobin apparently. yeonjun must be talking about you to soobin because he keeps glancing over at you behind the counter.

“see, she’s so pretty. doing her job and stuff, normal human things,” he sighs, “why doesn’t she want me?” he looks over at soobin.

soobin rolls his eyes, looking through the manga section. “probably because you’re a pain in the ass? i don’t know though, just a thought.” yeonjun smacks the back of his head, causing it to make a noise which has your head perking up from your phone.

he looks over at you, smiling and waving his hand trying to say it’s nothing, don’t worry which has you rolling your eyes and looking back down at your phone.

his smile fades away as he looks back at soobin, “don’t be a dumbass, i’m not even that annoying to her… yet,” he adds looking over at you once again. “yeah, yet.” soobin mumbles.

“i’m sorry, what was that?” yeonjun asks, which makes soobin shake his head. he nods, snapping his fingers as a way to tell soobin to hurry up.

soobin picks up a manga, walking over to the counter. yeonjun follows behind, smile adorning his face as he approaches you. seeing him from your peripheral, you choose to ignore him and focus on his friend.

“will that be all?” you ask as soobin nods, “okay, that will be 8.36. will you be paying with cash or card?” yeonjun notices how you haven’t said much of a word to him nor have you even gave him his daily dose of mean glares. “card is fine,” soobin says.

you accept his card, swiping it quickly before handing it back. “enjoy your read!” you chirp, giving him a small smile.

yeonjun tells him to go, watching as he walks out. looking back over at you, he pouts, “y/nnn, why haven’t you talked to me?” he quirks his head to the right.

“what is there to talk about? once again, i already said i don’t like you, yeonjun.” you walk out from behind the counter, going over to a bookshelf. he follows you like a lost puppy, pout stuck on his face.

“yes, i get that but you haven’t like me for a while and we still spoke a little. what’s so different now, do you not like me even more today?” he questions, coming closer to you.

you turn around to him and say, “yeah, pretty much.” he stands there, pout gone and jaw on the floor.

“WHAT DID I DO?” he yells, making the few customers turn around. your eyes widen, covering his mouth with your hand. you grab him by his hand, dragging him to the back room, “yeonjun, shut up! do not yell please, i was kidding.” you whisper yell.

“y/n, please let go of my hand before i kiss you,” he says with a blank look on his face.

you look down to see you are in fact, holding his hand. you snatch it away, confused on why you didn’t do so sooner. looking back up at him, you sigh telling him that it’s just best to not yell anymore or else he’ll be banned from the store.

“i thought you’d want me banned from the store?” he asks, genuinely confused. “as much as i’d love to, you and your friends are some of our best paying customers,” you tell him as you walk back to the front.

he follows behind you with a light smirk on his face, “can you please say you enjoy my company already, this fake rudeness is getting a bit old y/n,” he says yawning into his palm.

“get out the store.” you tell him exhausted, rubbing your nose bridge with two fingers. he raises his hands in defense before walking away while saying “byeee y/n, i’ll see you tomorrow,” blowing you a kiss.

“bye yeonjun,” resting your chin in your hand, thinking about the whole thing. is yeonjun starting to grow on you? it seems so.

let’s pray you don’t make it too obvious.

—

WEDNESDAY.

this time, yeonjun doesn’t even come in the store. he doesn’t even text you either, which is a shock to you.

hm, he must have not tried anything today, you sigh, finally some peace and quiet.

well, that’s what you thought. until yeonjun’s friend, soobin comes into the store.

“hi, are you y/n?” he asks carefully. you nod slowly, confused with what’s going on. “yeonjun wanted me to give you this, enjoy your day!” he adds, handing you a small box with an envelope attached to it.

“you too,” you say looking down at the box, confusion gracing your features. what the hell is this, you think to yourself.

you open the envelope first, seeing a letter.

“hi pretty, it’s yeonjun.

today is the worst day of my life, i came down with a fever :( i couldn’t drop you off anything because i didn’t have any energy to reach for my phone, hence why i’m writing a letter!! i hope i’m okay by tomorrow or if not, friday.

i’m really really sorry i couldn’t send you food with this, i’ll try tomorrow if i feel okay. for now, you can just have this. i’ve noticed you have an interest in lotus flowers so, i hope you like this.

love, yeonjun. :)”

you place the letter to the side, opening the small box.

a necklace.

he got you a fucking necklace.

a silver lotus flower necklace, it’s actually beautiful. you take it out, checking if it’s real just for… precautions. you once again don’t know what’s so special about you that yeonjun decided to give you necklace but you’re gonna wear it. you don’t know why but something just feels right about wearing it, is it possible that you may be falling for yeonjun? you’d like to say no but you’re not even sure of your own answer.

-

you spend the rest of the day at home contemplating on whether you should text yeonjun, just to check if he’s okay. not that you really care or anything (you do).

you: hi yeonjun, i got your gift and letter from soobin. thank you for the necklace :) i just wanted to check up on you, see if you’re okay. text me back when you can, love you.

you send the message without hesitation before reading over it but once you do, you regret ever sending it.

you told yeonjun you love him. are you fucking insane?

before you can even finish processing what you’ve done, your eyes are widening in shock. seeing three bubbles pop up meaning that yeonjun is texting back. fuck, what if he doesn’t say it back? no, what if he says it back and doesn’t mean it.

a few minutes pass as your phone pings in alert, a text from yeonjun gracing your notifications. you open it reading,

yeonjun: hi pretty <3 thank you for texting me, i was scared you hated me or something lol

yeonjun: but you’re welcome, it was nothing! you know i love giving you things ☺️ & thank you for checking in, i’m doing a bit better! i had some kimchi soup my friend taehyun made for me, it was really good, i hope you ate something >:(. but yes i’m feeling a bit better so thank you for that! and, i’ll always text back fast if it’s you!

yeonjun: but i’m gonna go back to sleep bcuz junie is sleepy… & i love you too pretty :)

for some reason, you can’t help but feel glad that he’s doing better but… you’re even happier that he said he loves you too.

your stomach is filled with butterflies as you reread the last message over and over again, stuck on the fact that he didn’t even question how early you said the L word.

this is a very unfamiliar feeling, you’re not very fond of it. but you’re going to stop yourself before it gets any worse.

—

THURSDAY.

once again, yeonjun doesn’t show up. but his friend does, it’s a different friend though.

jjun: hi pretty! i’m still a little sick so i’m having my friend drop off some food for you + something extra ;) i hope you enjoy, love you & enjoy your shift!

you: read at 10:07 am.

you feel bad for not responding back but once again, stopping yourself before it gets worse is the only the thing you know.

who you’re assuming is yeonjun’s friend comes in, he has long brown hair and doe eyes. he’s wearing a blue beanie & a plain white short sleeve with grey sweats. he gently smiles at you, waving hello before walking up to the counter.

“this is from yeonjun, which i’m pretty sure you knew already,” he pauses to look around, “oh, he also says that he loves you and he’ll see you tomorrow!” he nods with a smile still on his face. you say thank you before he begins walking out the store, looking down in the bag you notice another small box somewhat the same from yesterday and another envelope.

you open the envelope first once again, reading what yeonjun has written to you.

“helloooo again pretty! i know you’re probably already tired of these letters but it has become a form of communication between us and now i’ll never stop!

i noticed you didn’t respond to my message which made me a little sad but maybe you’re just having a bad day! which is totally okay, i just hope you enjoy this meal and have a good rest of your day at work!

love, yeonjun! :)”

you fold the letter back up, guilt coming back to you as the letter reminds you that you haven’t responded to him.

you know what, fuck this. you’re not responding. don’t let the guilt eat you alive and just carry on with your day, he’ll be fine.

-

you finish up your shift at 6pm. you walk to the back room, punching in your time sheet once again to clock out.

you have your airpods in, music playing before it pauses. siri reads, “incoming facetime call from yeonjun”.

why the hell is he calling you? he must have buttdialed you. you let it ring, waiting for it to hang up by itself but when it does, he calls you again.

growing agitated, you take your phone out of your pocket and decide to pick up.

“what do you want yeonjun? why are you calling me?” is the first thing you ask as his face pops up on the screen.

he has a pout on his face and his eyes are narrowed “why haven’t you texted me y/n,” he sniffles slightly. “do you fucking hate me?” he asks, you start growing regretful of the decision you made as you hear how upset he sounds.

“what?” is all you can seem to say right now, which leaves him baffled.

“that’s all you’re gonna say?” he asks, venom lacing his tone for the first time in a while.

“yes, goodbye yeonjun.” you say before hanging up abruptly, leaving yeonjun shocked on the other end.

tomorrow, yeonjun’s definitely going to give you an earful.

—

FRIDAY.

today, yeonjun finally comes in. you sigh heavily, already knowing what’s about to come. you’re ready for him to talk your ear off but you weren’t ready for what he came in wearing.

he’s wearing a black wifebeater with a gray hoodie over it, black sweatpants and black converse. his long black hair is slightly disheveled from all the times he’s ran his hands through it. his plump lips, covered in moisturizer as they shine from the store lighting. makes you wonder what his lips would look like covered in your slick after licking you up so softly, slim fingers pumping in and out of your rough walls, hitting that same spot over, and over again.

get your head out of your ass y/n.

you shake off these thoughts, watching yeonjun walk up to the counter.

“can i talk to you in the back,” he asks with a fake smile gracing his face. you nod as you get up, telling your coworker to handle the register for you.

you and yeonjun both go to the back before you speak first.

“what are we in here for?” you question already knowing the answer. he rolls his eyes in annoyance, clicking his tongue.

“ever since you said you loved me in messages, which i knew was a mistake, you’ve been ignoring me. why is that?” he says ticking his head to the side.

you look up trying to find a valid response, “i don’t know yeonjun, maybe i just didn’t feel like texting you anymore after that?” you say, fake irritation lacing your tone.

his eyes widen in shock, “really y/n? that’s your excuse? that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever heard, please be honest with me. you know i won’t judge anything you tell me.” he says, genuine anger starting to cover up his gentle tone.

you sigh, “i don’t know why honestly. yeonjun, you’ve been doing nothing but bothering me ever since last friday so, i don’t even understand how i could feel this way.”

yeonjun’s eyebrow raises, “feel what way?” you blink in shock.

“i’m pretty sure i have feelings for you.” you say, looking down at your shoes.

now it’s yeonjun’s turn to blink in shock, “oh wow.” he says looking over to the side.

“and y/n, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “because i wasn’t sure before and i tried to make myself lose feelings but, you kept doing all this sweet shit for me and i just couldn’t stop myself anymore. i really do like you, yeonjun.”

you both share a look before yeonjun glances down at your lips and you do the same to him.

his eyes dart back up to yours before he smiles gently.

“y/n, you know i like you back. i make it very clear but, i get why you were scared… i think. you were probably confused by the unfamiliar feeling, and i completely understand that.” he says, now speaking in his normal tone.

your face softens at the way he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from. you smile softly, making his eyes light up.

“that’s the first time i’ve ever seen you smile y/n,” he says with pure adoration glazing his naturally soft tone.

“yeah, i know,” you say with the smile still on your face.

“i’d like it if you smiled more around me, it’s really pretty,” he adds, watching you cover your face with your hands.

he brings his hand to your face, peeling your hands away. he licks his lips, implying that he obviously wants something.

“i already know what you want so just do it—” you say before he cuts you off, smashing his lips onto yours. even though you’re slightly caught off guard, you kiss back with just as much passion as him.

one of his hands are softly gripping onto your neck as the other is resting on your hip. both of your arms are slinging around his neck, moving into him deepening the kiss.

he moves the hand on your waist down to your thigh, tapping softly signaling you to jump up. doing so, he picks you up with ease resting you down on a small counter near the back room door. his left hand begins rubbing small circles into the flesh of your thigh, while his right hand is grabbing your chin to deepen the kiss even more with his tongue.

the slight intrusion of his tongue makes you softly moan into the kiss which has him lowering the kisses to your neck, he lightly sucks on your sweet spot drawing a delicious moan from you. he covers your mouth with his free hand, continuing to suck on that spot making you close your eyes in satisfaction.

he stops abruptly, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“i don’t think we should be doing this here, y/n,” he whispers with the same smile still on his face. you groan in annoyance, but think about how right he is.

“we can finish this back at my place, if you want?” he asks as he eyes you down with lust glazing over them. you nod bashfully, jumping off the counter gently patting down your clothing to try and make yourself look normal.

he does the same, fixing his hair and clothing. you both walk out before you ask your co-worker to clock you out when it’s time for your shift to end. they nod with a smile, already knowing what you’re about to be up to.

you smile back, walking out hand in hand with yeonjun, letting yeonjun take you to his place to have you however he would like to.

—

SATURDAY.

you wake up to find yourself in an unfamiliar space. you look over to find your clothes on the floor, along with someone else’s. they’re yeonjun’s. you finally realize what you’ve done, you slept with him.

you look down at your waist, seeing his arms wrapped around you. you try to get out of his grasp to go to the bathroom but he subconsciously tightens it, “y/nnn, where are you going?” he mumbles sleepily, pout resting on his face.

your face softens at the sound of his voice, “just to the bathroom jun, i’ll be back don’t worry,” you say. he hums in response, “my shirts are in the top left drawer and my boxers are right under that drawer.”

he releases his grasp on you and lets you get up to find clothing. you get up and walk to his drawer, picking the first pieces of clothing you see and putting them on. you walk over to his bathroom, taking a new toothbrush out of the pack.

you peek out the bathroom, seeing that yeonjun is still sleeping. you take a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face, coming up with the plan to make you and yeonjun breakfast.

you make your way to the kitchen, trying not to make any noise as you look for a frying pan. once you find one you turn on the stovetop, checking the fridge for any eggs. grabbing the carton, you crack a couple onto the already heated pan preparing an omelette.

you hear soft footsteps approaching you, feeling yeonjun’s arms wrap around you once again.

“good morning baby, what are you making?” he asks, looking over your shoulder to see what’s being made. he hums in delight, nuzzling his nose the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses.

“jun stop, you’re distracting me,” he giggles, moving away from your neck to let you focus.

“how much longer is this gonna takeeee, i wanna cuddle with you,” yeonjun pleads, a small frown painting his features.

“i’m almost done, give me a sec,” you reply, plating both dishes & finally walking over to sit down next to yeonjun.

he smiles in glee, taking in the smell of the freshly-made breakfast. he pats the cushion next to him motioning for you to sit down as you hand him his plate.

“thank you pretty,” he says while cutting the omelette into a small enough bite for him to chew, humming in delight at the savory taste. you watch him with a mix of hopefulness & confusion swirling in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you he likes it.

he nods slowly, “i like it! it’s really good, your cooking is amazing y/n,” he smiles, taking another bite.

“thank you yeonjun,” you say as you begin to take small bites of your own food. you feel the male next to you wrapping his arm around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“i know this is sudden but, will you be my girlfriend? i really want you to be, it’d really mean the world to me… you can say no!” he mumbles at first, gradually increasing his volume. you stare at him dumbfounded, shocked he’d even think you’d want anything else more than that.

“it’s weird you’d think otherwise jun, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” you say, raising your hand to gently rub his cheek.

he melts into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“i’m glad, i love you so so much.”

“i love you so so much more.” you say, before pressing a soft kiss onto yeonjun’s lips.

2023 TTYUNZ.

taglist: @k-labels @boba-beom @bucketofhiros @yeofy @n0-thisispatrick @hyukafied @hyunimylove @luvsoobs @choiwrld @majestyjun @tyunkus @belovedxiao @h00nerz !

author’s note: this was kinda rushed i’m so sorry guys, i hope you enjoy! 🥹🥹

[fandomlit]

secretive (shane madej x reader)

requested by anon “Could you do a Shane Madej x reader where he thinks the reader is cheating on him with Ryan. Like they whisper things to eachother and stop when Shane enters the room, they text all the time and hang out without Shane a lot. He ends up snapping at the reader about it but it turns out they were actually planning a suprise for him.”

summary shane madej has never been an insecure guy. but when it comes to you, that side can come out to play.

gif cred belongs to @ryanbergara​

shane was rarely insecure. he had learned to become proud of who he is, lanky limbs and all. but of course, there was the occasional slip up--especially when it came to you.

when shane first met you, he was smitten. your dorky personality, stunning beauty, and unrelenting kindness drew him into you instantly, and he chased that feeling to the ends of the earth. and now, almost a year and a half into your relationship, he could honestly say that he has never been happier.

but of course, those pesky insecurities come out to play sometimes.

shane had volunteered to do coffee run that morning before filming unsolved. when he came back to the office where he had left you both, he saw you two sitting unbearably close at the desk, talking and smiling and ignoring everyone else in the room setting up for the shoot.

trying his best to brush it off, he entered the office and gave you both a smile. “caffeine time?”

you leaned away from ryan, clapping excitedly. “caffeine time!”

he gave a wide grin at your cheeriness and grabby hands, handing you the order he had memorized on your first date. 

you stood up from the desk and giggled, “you can have your seat back. i gotta get back to work.”

“alright, have fun,” shane smiled. you gave him a quick kiss before skipping off to your workplace. after shane settled in his seat with his coffee, he said to ryan as casually as he could, “what were the whispers about?”

ryan gave him an entirely unconvincing confused look. “what whispers?”

“between you and y/n,” shane explained, motioning to the door you had just exited through.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ryan said, shaking his head at shane. before shane could press any further, you came back into the office.

“sorry,” you giggled. “forgot my phone.” you snatched off of the small table and then pointed to ryan with a serious expression. “text me, bergara.” and then you left, just as quickly as you had come.

ryan looked up from his prepared manila folder to the camera crew, not daring to glance at the unintentionally glaring shane, and spoke, “are we ready to roll?”

..

“who are you texting?” shane teased when he entered the living room to see you curled up, smiling at your phone.

“just ryan,” you shrugged. that didn’t sit right with shane.

“you two seem awfully close lately,” shane tried to comment nonchalantly. but if he implicated that anything was wrong in his tone, you didn’t notice. you just giggled as your phone buzzed with another text. shane took a sip of his tea with a frown.

after a while of smiling at your phone, you moved over to cuddle with shane as he watched a show on netflix.

you placed a kiss on his cheek as you draped yourself over him. “i love you.”

that did lighten his heart a bit. “i love you, too.”

..

ryan and shane got lunch together many days of the week. then he would come back to the office, pay you a visit in yours, and get back to work. but today, ryan had a different idea in mind.

“why don’t we eat with y/n today?” the shorter man proposed. that unsettled shane a bit. supernatural beings were nothing to him, but a guy taking invested interest in his girl friend as of late? that rattled him.

shane excused, “she’s usually busy during our lunch.. but we can check.” he shrugged. “no harm in that.” and though his thoughts betrayed his words, he led the way to your office.

you were on the phone when shane peeked in. you waved him in as you spoke, “it’s alright, lea.” you tapped your pencil against your desk as the boys filtered in. “yeah, just send it and we can edit and complete. it’s no problem. just relax and enjoy a day off, girl. of course. see you.” you hung up and gave the boys a smile.

“what was that about?” shane asked, coming closer to your desk to give you a quick kiss.

“was that the girl who hasn’t shown up for the past few days?” ryan asked, taking the seat across from your desk.

“yes,” you groaned. “im trying to be patient with her, she’s using some sick days so i can’t really get on her, but did she have to take off in the middle of this project?” you let out a huff.

shane was slightly bothered that ryan knew more about this than he did. but instead, he asked, “would it comfort you at all if we had lunch with you today? or is this girl taking up your schedule?”

you grasped his hand in yours. “please have lunch with me.” you reached out your hand to ryan, who laughed as he took it. you squeezed both of their hands, though shane’s lips were now tightly pursed. “this morning has been insane.”

“we got you,” ryan nodded with a grin that you returned sweetly. when you looked up at shane, he quickly changed his expression into a grin. he felt his jealousy rising second by second during the entire lunch.

..

shane had just walked into the breakroom to see you and ryan laughing as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “that’s actually not a bad idea, bergara. where’d you come up with that one?”

“i’ve got so much in this noggin, you don’t even know, l/n,” ryan responded easily, making you laugh again. shane still hadn’t been noticed, but he felt as if his heart was beating so loud that he surely would be.

“but yeah, shane stays late every thursday,” you continued, “so if you came over right after work, we should be able to get it all done and shane wouldn’t even know!”

“im a genius,” ryan praised.

“that you are,” you agreed, holding your cup out. he clinked his water bottle against it and you both turned to the door. shane was long gone.

..

you had stayed a little bit late that day, and so shane was stuck pacing your shared apartment as he awaited your arrival home, thinking of what to say.

his blood boiled as he thought of the implications of the past couple of weeks. you and ryan were definitely planning something. and with how close you two were lately, it was probably something that shane, your boyfriend, would not care for at all. and if his thoughts were right, then had this happened before? is he only noticing this now? he couldn’t even begin with what he needed to say to you.

you were the most important thing to him. from the moment he met you, he knew he had to be with you. and now that you could be cheating on him with his best friend? his heart was pumping and aching in his chest, and he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

when you opened the door, his head immediately shot up. “hey,” you smiled. after you closed the door behind you and took in his frantic state, you asked, “something wrong?”

“we gotta talk,” was all he could manage as he shook his head.

you furrowed your brow as you slipped off your jacket and dropped your bag. “okay..?” you stepped toward him. “what about?”

but your innocence just seemed to frustrate him. “i know about you and ryan.” you stopped in your tracks, but he didn’t dare glance at your reaction to his words. he was worried about what he’d find there. “i heard you guys talking in the breakroom earlier about meeting up when im not home, and how you two always text lately, and you’re always.. touching and..” he took a breath. “i know, y/n.” he finally looked up at you to see your face frozen in what seemed to be shock and concern. you stepped closer to him.

“shane, what?” he stood his ground, arms crossed as you moved in front of him. “shane, no.. no, i love you so much, i would never cheat on you.” you placed your hands on his arms and looked him dead in his eyes. but his expression remained stone.

“why should i believe that?” he spoke lowly.

he wished he hadn’t seen your heart break in your eyes. “shane, ryan and i are your best friends, we wouldn’t dare do that to you. we..” you let out a sigh through your nose and removed your hands from his arms to fish your phone out of your pocket. you unlocked it and handed it to him, revealing the texts between you and ryan.

scrolling up, he found:

boogara, 12:38pm okay, this might be a stupid question..

y/n, 12:42pm i love it already, do tell

boogara, 12:44pm alright do you think it would be at all possible to get balloons custom made as characters from the hotdaga?

y/n, 12:45pm OHMYGOD I LOVE IT WE ABSOLUTELY CAN IM LOOKING INTO IT RN

boogara, 12:46pm shane better appreciate this idea as much as you do when his birthday comes around

y/n, 12:48pm ryan, that man will celebrate harder than he’s ever celebrated before

boogara, 12:49pm he better

shane didn’t know what to make of that as he handed his phone back to you.

“we were planning a surprise party for your birthday,” you sighed, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “that’s why we’re so.. secretive.” you twiddled with your hands nervously. “but i guess not anymore.” shane didn’t know what to say. you looked up to him sadly. “you thought i was cheating on you..?”

shane’s heart burned with guilt. softly, he spoke, “i did, yeah.” your frown deepened. “but not because i don’t trust you,” he explained, taking your hand in his. you looked to your hands instead of his desperate eyes for a moment. “but because i just..” you looked up at him, and the words spilled out, “i don’t know, im just always in awe that i get to be with you and... i guess i got scared that maybe you thought i wasn’t good enough for you, because god knows im not.”

“shane,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. “you’re perfect for me. ryan is definitely one of my best friends, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the love i have for you.” he offered you a short smile. “i only have eyes for you, dork.”

“im sorry,” he whispered. you pulled him in for a tight hug.

“i am, too,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. “will you still act surprised for your birthday..? ryan’s pretty proud of himself.”

“i’d do anything for that little guy,” he sighed, pulling away from you to gaze at your sweet smile. “let’s go watch drunk history.”

forever tags <3 @bombardia @simonsbluee @ari-shipping-stuff @cheshirecat107 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

[heymacy]

the club diaries: chapter one ✍🏼

if you didn’t know, i recently got a job as a cocktail waitress at a strip club. a friend from my day job got me an interview there for bartending, but since i’ve only waitressed in the past i’m starting there and then will train along the way.

if you told me a year ago that i’d be working in a strip club part time, i’d have assumed i was hallucinating, so this is an entirely new experience for me and i thought i’d share stories about the job with y’all since i’m sure there will be many.

my first night, i got there early to fill out my tax paperwork and get my uniform. once i was dressed, my friend (we’ll call her E) had me shadow her for the rest of the night, helping her with tables and orders.

before i got this job, i had been to a strip club one time in my entire life. it was almost an entire decade ago, when I was 18, and i went with my boyfriend at the time and our mutual best friend. a stripper named hunter put her face in my boobs and it was definitely a, uh, memorable experience.

i’ve also never been to a club or a bar, in the traditional sense. it was never my scene, i don’t really drink alcohol, and my only friends have always been neurodivergent homebodies like me.

then, all of a sudden, i’m in a corset with my boobs front and center and fake eyelashes to the heavens pouring shots of overpriced Grey Goose vodka for middle-aged men in button-down shirts. culture shock? yeah.

but to be honest? it’s not that different from my other job

let me explain. at our day job, even though we work in different departments, E and i deal with rude people, angry people, sometimes even violent people. we have to think on our feet and problem solve and placate the customer until someone in upper management can slide in and either solve the problem entirely or escort them out of the store. the exact same is true at the club. in fact, i was told by three people during my first shift that if anyone ever does anything that makes me uncomfortable, like touching me without my permission or making lewd comments, it’s 100% okay and encouraged to tell them to fuck off. at my day job, i’m not allowed to do that, so it’s actually nice to know i have that option if things get dicey.

and that’s the thing: things get dicey at both jobs. just the other day, at my day job, a man came in high on coke and meth with a switchblade and tried stealing a tablet from the electronics department by cutting the security tag. when it didn’t work, his high ass came over to my department, slammed the knife down on the table, and demanded to speak with a manager while muttering incoherently under his breath.

the entire world, every single part of it, is deeply and utterly bizarre.

the first night was pretty simple, just shadowing E and helping her with her tables. we spent a lot of time taking orders since it was a busy night, but the computer system was glitching a lot so there was a lot of standing around, waiting for credit cards to process, waiting for the POS system to reboot. i got there around 9:30 and i was there until about 3am. the next night i went in around 10 and worked on my own until about 5:30. at one point i was awake for a grand total of 42 hours and was fully convinced i was losing my mind and becoming irreparably insane. turns out sleep depravation doesn’t agree with me - who knew?

overall, i was surprised by how laid back it was. like yes, it’s crazy in a lot of ways. flashing lights, boobs everywhere, smoke and alcohol and cologne flowing through the room, loud music, people yelling at each other, etc. think, the jersey shore crew on a night out at karma, only with actual strippers.

i’m also surprised by how comfortable i felt in my uniform. i’d never struggled with my weight until i turned 22, and i just recently lost about 45 pounds due to illness, so my body image has been a little wonky as of late. however, i was a musical theatre kid (shut up) and honestly, i wore an outfit just as scandalous when we did a rendition of “hey big spender” from sweet charity (a musical that’s literally about nightclub dancers, by the way). so quite frankly, i’ve been rather comfortable in the skrimpy little outfit, which is surprising even to me.

anyway, so far things are going well. i anticipate drama, and chaos, and there’s already been some, but that’s ultimately the reality of every job ever. at my day job, the drama is insubordination and return policies and angry Karens. at my club job, the drama is “why does a vodka cranberry cost $16?” and “this guy is drunk, call security” and to be honest? it’s less emotionally exhausting to explain overpriced alcohol to a slimy dude in a suit than it is to explain to a Karen why she can’t return the clothes she bought at walmart to our store, because we’re not walmart. 🙄

my next shift is tomorrow night at 11, and i’ll be there until the wee hours of the morning on thursday. thankfully, there won’t be a repeat of this weekend, since i’m completely free from both jobs on thursday and friday.

i’ll be making these posts every once in a while if i have any interesting stories or anecdotes to share, but feel free to ask me questions any time, and i’ll answer them as best as i can!

oh also, my wife is keeping all the cash tips i earn in a shoebox and wasn’t too amused when i referred to it as the “titty money box” lmao

anyway, here’s some photos of my uniform. thank you god or whoever for my boobs, they cause me tremendous back pain but i can hold $120 in cash, a cell phone, three pens, and a stack of napkins in there without being detected. so. pretty neat trick.

macy and her boobs, signing off for now ✨

[husbandograveyard]

Hello!! Congratulations on 300!! Love your writing could I request Ace and #47? Hope you a nice day!!

Hiya! Thank you!!! Some freckly boi goodness for the final scenario of this event! Thank you for participating (and please check your PM for your giveaway prize) I hope you like this scenario!! Enjoy! 

4th time is the charm - Ace x Reader 

Cliche with bae prompt #47: “I have loved you for years” Character: Ace - Word count: 2k 

The first time you were children. A marine ship had come into town, and curiosity had taken over: the vice-admiral leading the ship had brought with him two young boys, his grandsons, who seemed less than impressed with the trip their grandfather took them on. You loudly heard them declare something about pirates and trying to sneak away from their grandpa. And you, a child on the island often running away and hiding, knew just the places to get the boys to! Only the eldest saw your motions and ditched his younger brother without a trace of doubt. 

You learned his name was Ace, the younger brother’s name was Luffy. Ace cared about Luffy, but like many brothers, he didn’t always show. “Besides, he’s got grandpa looking after him.” The two of you (and sometimes the three of you) always ended up playing together on the island for hours on end, oftentimes either their grandpa or your parents looking for you around dinnertime. When they eventually left the island, you hugged him tightly, telling him to visit again if his grandpa would come to the island again. You even cried a little after the ship disappeared from the horizon. 

The second time was when Ace had just become a pirate. You were both just teenagers, just starting to figure out what you wanted in life, but he was already so strong, so determined. He was traveling island to island, trying to recruit people for his crew. When you recognized him, you spent multiple days catching up. But at the end of his visit, he wouldn’t take you along on his travels. “You’re too weak y/n, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt because of the pirate life”. 

You were incredibly hurt, more than you thought you’d be. You asked him if he’d by come again if he would take you along when you were stronger. “You’ll have to prove your strength y/n”, he said, “but if you are strong enough, I’ll take you along.” That was enough to set your heart ablaze, and you wished that the hug goodbye would never end. It did, unfortunately, but you did not cry as he left the island this time. You were determined to get stronger.

And thus you trained every single day, no matter how sore you were from the day before. And you did get stronger. Became skilled with many weapons, started learning Haki. You were contemplating leaving the island to go look for a devil fruit. But you couldn’t really leave now, not when Ace might come by again and take you along on his travels.

Years went by and you kept an eye on the newspapers and saw how he became more and more notorious. He and his Spade pirates were making a name for themselves. He’d eaten a devil fruit and had even refused a position as a shichibukai, and even though it made your heart swell with pride and even maybe even a little love, it also made you worried. You were strong, but not that strong, and it had been years now. Maybe he’d never return at all. 

The third time you met was after he’d already joined the Whitebeard pirates and you had started traveling on your own. Tired of waiting for him, and half-convinced he was not going to show up anymore, you were now going from island to island, combining low-level bounty hunting with each and every little job you could find in order to keep in shape and earn money to support your travels and upgrade your weapons. You were not sure what your long-term goals were exactly, maybe you wanted to join a pirate crew eventually, but for now, you settled for exploring the world. You had seen amazing things already and you were sure there were plenty of adventures still to come.

When you heard a ruckus outside, you were pretty sure another pirate crew was on its way to the bar where you were working at the moment. It was one of the biggest in town, and you had seen your fair share of pirates. You just hoped they weren’t the angry types of drunks. Not that you couldn’t handle them, they were just a way bigger pain to deal with. 

When the door opened, you looked up smiling, ready to greet the new guests, but fell immediately speechless when the first thing you saw was the freckled face of the man you had been waiting for at home. He was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, and long, firm hugs were exchanged, with plenty of unnecessary comments from his crew. You provided him and his friends with drinks and spent the entire night almost neglecting other customers in order to catch up with Ace. 

He apologized for not coming to get you and explained how he had found this crew, or family, as he’d like to call them. He told you of his adventures so far, and you told him about yours. Yours weren’t nearly as impressive as his were, but he still listened to you intently, asking questions and praising your strength and skilled that you had honed over the years. You didn’t dare tell him it was all for him, in hopes he’d take you along after that. You didn’t get to explain too much, somewhere halfway through one of your stories his head suddenly drooped and he fell asleep right then and there. The crew laughed and explained to you that it was quite a common occurrence and to just wait it out. 

By the time he woke up, it was nearing the morning, everyone leaving so you could close the bar for the night. Ace apologized profusely, and you told him he could make it up to you by meeting you again the next day. His ears were turning red and he looked positively embarrassed, but he did say yes, avoiding any and all eye contact before he waved you goodbye and followed the rest of the crew back to the ship. 

The next day he met you at the back of the bar, and you took him to one of the more quiet places on the island, enjoying the view together. There were no awkward silences, conversation flowed so easily and it had been as if you were talking for years on end, not these random faithful encounters that made your heart flutter every single time. You were wondering if you should tell him how you feel, but now that you were on your own adventure, it would not be as easy to keep up a relationship as it would have been all those years ago. Besides, he had his own family now, no use in trying to work your way into his world, which was always so different from yours.

You were sitting together for a while when he suddenly stopped talking, his head falling onto your shoulder, and because you weren’t prepared and flinched when it happened, slipped onto your lap. He was fast asleep again, in a position that didn't really seem comfortable. You tried to gently shake him awake but to no avail. You tried to move his body as much as you could to make him at least a little bit more comfortable and made sure his neck wasn’t bent in a funny way that could potentially hurt him when he woke up. Not wanting to move now that he seemed relaxed, and softly snoring, you settled for raking your hands through his hair. Although he was sleeping soundly, Ace seemed to lean into your touch a little. 

When you grew tired of curling his locks around your fingers -you didn’t want to mess his hair up too badly-, you settled for counting his freckles, softly tracing those on his shoulders. You felt him shift a little and pulled your hand back when you looked down and saw his eyes were open, something in between a gentle smile and a full-on grin on his face, mixed in with some embarrassment, out of all times to fall asleep, this wasn’t the best possible moment.  

A few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence and some insanely intense eye contact later, Ace sat up straight again and was on his feet. You followed suit, walking back, it had become quite late and he didn’t want to worry his crewmates. You understood but felt the pang in your heart as he said goodbye. You pulled him in for a hug, which he returned. When you let go, he still held onto your arms, as if he wanted to say something more, the words ready to roll off his tongue. And yet he seemed to swallow them. You couldn’t get yourself to spill your feelings either, so heartfelt goodbyes were all that was exchanged that night. 

You regretted not saying or doing anything from that moment on. The next morning the big ship was nowhere to be seen, and you had no idea when you’d ever see him again. With both of you actively traveling, the possibility of you running into each other again was insanely small. But you moved on nonetheless. 

The fourth and final time was when Ace was solo traveling as well, and you did not recognize him as you were sprinting to get the final spot in an overcrowded bar. You jumped onto the barstool only to bump right into a muscular chest who’d been just a little faster to claim that final spot for some drinks and dinner. You cursed loudly and were surprised when you heard someone call out your name. Ace. 

He quickly offered you the spot, and another evening of catching up ensued, and he told you all about how he was going after someone from his division that had killed another of his family. You listened intently as you saw the pain and guilt on his face when he blamed himself for not being able to catch this man. Your heart made all sorts of jumps when he placed his hand on yours and told you not to worry. You made up your mind right then and there. 

“I want to come along with you” “y/n… I don’t think..” “I won’t get in your way, I won’t fight if you tell me not to, and even if you say no, I’ll just be happening to travel in the same direction as you are.” You shrugged and he couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “Don’t you have your own adventures to live?” “Oh Ace, I initially traveled to seek you out.” His smile faded as he looked at you confused. “I have been in love with you for years now. Please take me along, I cannot take another goodbye.” His mouth opened and closed a few times to say something, his brain obviously not catching up with what you had just said, and you made the bold move of leaning forward and softly pressing your lips to his in order to put some action behind your words. You were careful though, so he could still reject them in case you had completely misread the situation. 

You had not: once he got over the initial shock of the situation, he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other sneaking to the back of your head so he could deepen the kiss. You only pulled back when the bartender made a clicking noise, not the best place to share an intense kiss while other people were just trying to enjoy their meal. You both were blushing as you looked in each other’s eyes. 

“I thought I’d never get you to travel along with me. I love you y/n. Always have, for all these y-” His head slumped forward and you managed to catch it right in time before it landed in his plate. You giggled. Maybe it would be a good idea that someone came along on his travels.

[victoriareyloficlists]

19 March 2021 Additions to Reylo Meet-Cute

These fics have been added to the Meet-Cute list located here.

More Than a One-Night Stand by Eskayrobot, Poaxath (AO3 2018  Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey's having a pretty shitty night, to be honest. From the creep at the bar to the...oh, this rescuer of hers is pretty nice. And very attractive. And maybe he smelled really good, too.) Bespoke by L_awlietxoxx (AO3 2018  Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo is miserable, stumbling through his life in London without seeing much of anything. Then Christmas sneaks up on him, as does a little shop and a woman who makes custom ornaments to meet the needs of any heart. Suddenly, Ben sees everything.) Of Penmanship and Discourse by INTPSlytherin_reylove97 (AO3 2018  Rated M Complete, 35 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Rey Kenobi's professor and advisor, Luke Skywalker, refuses to give constructive criticism or facilitate workshops for his students, she decides to seek help else where. Ben Solo (or if you read his published work, Kylo Ren) is on the brink of insanity. The literary magazine he is editor for is racing off in a new direction-- and is leaving him questioning both its morals and his love for writing. To find his intellectual and creative needs met, he decides to turn to the internet. A PenPals AU no one asked for.) Degrees and Galaxies by Pawprinter (AO3 2018  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben could think of numerous other things he would rather be doing than spending an afternoon working on a paper. That all changes when he bumps into Rey. Maybe spending the day at the coffee shop isn't the worst way to spend his time.) Image Attached by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) (AO3 2019  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: The Resistance crew is out on the town, and Poe is desperate to find a way to keep Rey from punching out creeps at the bar. Giving out a fake number is a good way to put them off, right?) Haunted Corn Maze by OptimisticBeth (AO3 2018  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey bonds with her work buddy, Ben.) In Full Bloom by deedreamer (AO3 2019  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When high school teacher Rey Kanata gets flowers with a cryptic message, she freaks out, thinking she's being hit on by one of her students. On a mission to find out who sent the flowers, she meets Ben Solo -- single dad and owner of the little florist down on Main Street. When the flowers turn out to be a delivery error, Rey knows her job's no longer at risk. But what she doesn't know is that she's about to fall head over heels for the man who keeps sending her flowers day after day because he's a goner for her, too...) From R to Kylo by SpaceWaffleHouseTM (AO3 2018  Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben and Rey are archaeologists who absolutely cannot stand each other. They also happen to be pen pals, but they don't know who the other is, until one night they get trapped together at a creepy excavation site, and suddenly their hatred begins to unravel.) Go And Catch A Falling Star Chapter 56 by Ayearandaday (AO3 2021  Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Hungry overworked Ben accidentally ends up in McDonalds. Guess what happens next?) A Doggy Intervention by corpse_wife (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Interventions come in many different forms. Whether it's time, a place or occasionally, people, it's up to the universe to decide when two soulmates meet. In Ben Solo's case, the universe had a cruel sense of humor. For his intervention comes in the form of a German Shepard and his graceless brunette owner. Two things happened in the short span of a minute: 1.) Ben got tackled to the ground 2.) The dog had just swallowed his wedding rings) Have My Everything by MotherofScavengers (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: After months of convincing, teacher Rey is at last dragged by her friends to a strip club and gets gifted with a lap dance. When she's alone and waiting, she finally meets the dancer: Usually shy Ben, the single father of her favourite student. ) when the stars collide by roguewn (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rose and Rey are debating the latest Space Skirmish movie. Rose insists a kiss was romantic and Rey jokes that it was a thank-you-for-saving-me kiss. Rose dares her to kiss the next guy who holds the door open for her.)

[londonspirit]

After the pandemic delayed its highly-anticipated release, the In the Heights movie is finally coming to very thirsty fans this Friday - and, to make the premiere even better, a special behind-the-scenes look at the movie is hitting bookshelves. In the Heights: Finding Home is a joint venture with Lin-Manuel Miranda, screenwriter Quiara Alegría Hudes, and Jeremy McCarter - it combines never-before-seen photos and oral history style-storytelling to take readers onto the Washington Heights set, spilling all sorts of filming secrets. Here, in an exclusive excerpt, read along as the cast battles record heat to complete the "Carnaval del Barrio" number.

Washington Heights is dense enough, and lively enough, to offer a distilled version of the New York paradox: Life is a nerve-fraying ordeal that you miss terribly as soon as it's gone. (According to local custom, people don't just double-park here, they triple-park.) Everybody knew that shooting a movie there would be difficult and expensive. But Jon [M. Chu, the director,] couldn't imagine doing it any other way.

For all of its fantastical touches-what Jon calls its "sing-to-the-stars-y" energy-Heights has always drawn power from its realism, a depiction of life as it's actually lived. The sweet spot for the movie, Jon felt, would be offering "a very truthful take on living in Washington Heights, then upping it."

In other words: No matter how fraught the process might be, the cast, the crew, and all of their gear-up to and including their fake sun in the sky-were going to spend the summer of 2019 in Washington Heights.

"The essence of a movie dictates where you shoot it," explains Kevin McCormick, a Warner Bros. executive who was integral to Heights. "And there's no way you could not have made this in Washington Heights. To have a movie about this community and not film there would be such a lost opportunity."

The first thing they did there was listen. Members of the production team, particularly Samson Jacobson, the location manager (born and raised in the area-a definite plus), and Karla Sayles, the director of public affairs at Warner Bros., met with community leaders to field questions and respond to concerns. Once again, Luis Miranda was a vital resource, drawing on relationships he had built over decades to make introductions.

The producers vowed to do all they could to limit the physical footprint of the shoot. Cast members shared trailers that they might otherwise have kept to themselves. The production hired people from the neighborhood for roles onscreen and off. Instead of catering every meal, they encouraged actors and crew to buy lunch in area restaurants. They even funded a student production of the show at George Washington high school.

What you see onscreen is a two-hour-and-fourteen-minute record of movie professionals falling in love with a place and its people. They arrived uptown to discover that Washington Heights really was different from most places in New York. Locals opened the hydrants on hot afternoons and played dominoes on the sidewalks. The piragüeros really did park their carts on the sidewalk to hawk their flavors of the day. The fascination seemed to be mutual: Actors got used to seeing whole families-little kids and their abuelitas-watching from their stoops at any time of the day or night.

Which is not to say that it came easily.

To Alice Brooks, the director of photography, the weather problems were "insane." If a storm popped up on the radar anywhere nearby, they had to suspend production. This happened with schedule-wrecking regularity. They expected to be free of such interruptions when they went underground to shoot "Paciencia y Fe" on the subway. Instead, they experienced a torment familiar to every New Yorker but with a twist: They weren't waiting for the train to appear so they could ride it to work, they just needed the garbage train to pass by so they could go back to shooting their movie.

The need to solve the endless riddles of New York filmmaking had led the producers to add Anthony Bregman to the team. At this point, he reckons, he's filmed in just about every corner of his hometown, always looking for ways to capture the authentic look and feel of a place-even when the movie is surreal. (He produced Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a valuable point of reference for the reality-bending frame of Quiara's screenplay.) So he wasn't especially rattled when, on the night they filmed "Alabanza," a nearby building caught fire, or when, on another night, gunshots rang out nearby.

"You want the life of the city?" Anthony asks. "The life of the city is complicated."

The production lost valuable shooting time on both of those nights. They found ways to make it up later. But other days offered no second chances. Anthony remembers looking at the calendar before summer began, getting a feel for what lay ahead. Some days seemed manageable; some days seemed tough. Then there was "Carnaval del Barrio."

"That day," he says, "was impossible."

What turned out to be a defining episode in the whole long history of In the Heights almost didn't happen at all. Many a movie executive had suggested over the years that there wasn't enough plot in "Carnaval del Barrio" to justify a song that was very long and very crowded, which made it very expensive. But the song's power doesn't come from the plot, it comes from the theme. The characters rally one another's spirits amid a citywide blackout. They raise their flags and celebrate their heritage-and their humanity-in defiance of every force telling them not to.

That community-fortifying aspect of the song is "essentially the DNA of In the Heights for me," Quiara says. Beneath the joy, there's a legacy of struggle and resilience. " 'Carnaval' unearths that history. All we have is our fight to be here together, the testimony to our spirit."

To help ensure that the number would remain in the movie, she hooked it into the plot more securely, situating it as a farewell number for the salon ladies, who have been priced out of the neighborhood. But the budget wasn't the only limiting factor. "Carnaval" is unique in requiring virtually every member of the cast to be present at the same time.

The actors' complicated schedules meant that Jon wouldn't get all the filming days he wanted. He would get only one.

Which meant it was time for the hard, slow, unglamorous legwork of moviemaking: planning, organizing, rehearsing, designing, equipping, and rehearsing some more-months of it, all to give themselves the best possible chance to "make the day," to film the whole gigantic number in the time available.

In the world of making movies, "day" is a flexible unit of time, especially for a scene that would be filmed outdoors- in this case, a courtyard between two apartment buildings around the corner from where Lin went to preschool. They scheduled the shoot for a Monday, when union rules would let them start the earliest. And they picked June 24, one of the longest days of the year.

They didn't realize it would also be one of the hottest.

The song would be filmed more or less in order. Which meant that for the production, as for the characters, the salon ladies would lead the way.

Some of the movie's actors were new to musicals. Not Daphne Rubin-Vega, who plays Daniela. When Rent blew the mind of seventeen-year-old Lin-Manuel Miranda, she was onstage, playing Mimi. But when she arrived for hair and makeup on "Carnaval" day-at 4:30 in the morning-even she was feeling nerves. The uneven concrete floor of the courtyard wasn't like where they had rehearsed. The prospect of filming a seven-page song before nightfall seemed crazy.

She began to hear a voice of doubt in her brain, one that's encoded in a specific ugly memory. After wrapping her first film, she had gone to the airport to fly home to New York and mentioned to the woman at the ticket counter that she had just acted in a movie.

"That's funny," said the woman, who Daphne believes to have been Latina like herself. "You don't look like an actress."

Worries about how they looked, questions about what they were wearing, a general feeling of negativity-Dascha Polanco was feeling them, too. She always loved arriving on set to play Cuca, one of Daniela's fellow salon ladies, because it felt so much like coming home. She was born in the Dominican Republic and while growing up in Brooklyn used to make frequent trips to the Heights with her friends. ("Washington Heights is a small Dominican Republic," she explains.) Now she, too, wondered if she belonged. Am I capable of remembering the steps? she asked herself.

She decided to stop those doubts-for herself and the other salon ladies. She grabbed the hands of Daphne and Stephanie Beatriz, who played Carla, and formed the women into a profane prayer circle.

"Shake that s--- off," she told them. "I'm not going to let anyone or anything interfere with my performance today."

Daphne laughs as she tells the story. "She was so hilarious and said we were going to protect each other from that insecurity. That was such a beautiful thing-going in there with that determination to represent."

By 5:30 A.M., when the sun rose over Queens, sixty dancers had arrived. Christopher Scott, the film's choreographer, tried to prepare them for what was coming, backed by his full team of associate choreographers: Emilio Dosal, Ebony Williams, and Dana Wilson, as well as associate Latin choreographer Eddie Torres, Jr., and assistant Latin choreographer Princess Serrano. By six A.M., dozens of crew members had joined them, making the thousand careful adjustments needed to help a movie look spontaneous.

It was almost nine A.M. by the time Jon called "Action." The cameras started rolling, Daphne started singing, and the clock kept ticking.

Arrange the actors, position the cameras, do a take, reset everybody, do it again. As the sun climbed higher that morning, the temperature rose to what one crew member estimated to be nine hundred degrees. Look closely-see the sweat on people's bodies? Most of it didn't come from the makeup department. But there wasn't time for extra breaks to cool off.

"Please be quiet," a voice on the loudspeaker boomed at one point. "We gotta go."

At one point that morning, Jimmy Smits got his turn to shine. Playing Kevin Rosario wasn't his first Height experience. He had seen the show Off-Broadway and been "blown away" by it, he says. He had offered to help in any way he could, eventually recording a radio ad for the show.

His devotion to Heights carried into rehearsals for the film. As they got underway, he told Chris Scott and the choreography team, "I know I'm playing the dad, but the last thing I want to see is myself in the background, just waving my hands. I want to go all in." They obliged him. He sometimes hobbled home from the dance studio to ice himself for hours.

His payoff came on "Carnaval" day. He had a featured moment in the song: an intricate, whirling combination. The cast and crew watched him do it again and again, cheering him on. He could feel "a lightning bolt of energy" around the set, something he'd experienced only rarely in his long career.

Over the applause after one take, a voice rang out, ricocheting off the walls: "That s--- was crazy! For our ancestors!" It was Anthony Ramos. He, too, had a long history with Heights, but it wasn't as happy as Jimmy's.

Very early in his career, he had tried to get cast as Sonny on the show's national tour. It meant taking a bus into Manhattan from a gig he was doing in New Jersey, going through round after round of auditions. At last he made it to the big moment: a callback in front of Tommy Kail, Alex Lacamoire, and Lin himself.

He gave the song everything he had. He didn't get the part.

He thought he'd missed the one chance he would get to work with Lin, the writer who'd evoked Anthony's own world, Latino New York, so beautifully on a Broadway stage. He needn't have worried. A few years later, the same guys would hire him to originate the roles of John Laurens and Philip Hamilton, Alexander's son, in Hamilton.

When Anthony got to know Tommy and Lac well enough, he asked if they remembered not casting him as Sonny. They said they did.

"You weren't ready yet," Lac said.

Anthony knew he was right. "Only a homie would tell you that," he says.

But he needed one more break to make his way back to Heights and find himself sweating in the courtyard that morning.

In 2018, Stephanie Klemons, an original cast member of both In the Heights and Hamilton, directed a production of Heights at the Kennedy Center in Washington. The night before rehearsals were set to begin, she lost an actor to an injury. She reached out to Anthony: Could he step in with zero notice?

He didn't feel physically or mentally ready, and was about to pass, but decided to do it. That's how he got a second chance to show Lin what he could do in Heights-not as Sonny this time, as Usnavi. In a series of tweets, reproduced on this page, Lin commemorated how overwhelmed he was watching Anthony step into the role he once played. He, Quiara, and Jon all agreed that when the cameras started rolling, Anthony should be their Usnavi.

The bond between Anthony and Lin added to the drama of filming "Carnaval." Lin played Piragua Guy, so he was in the courtyard, too-or, rather, directly above it, on a fire escape. It meant that the whole cast and crew had a clear view of the brief duet that he and Anthony sing in the middle of the number. To people who knew their history, the sight made time go all swirly. Anthony had originated the role of Lin's son in Hamilton, and now he was playing the role that Lin had originated, and somehow the two of them were singing a duet in Washington Heights.

A quirk of the production process made the moment even stranger and more potent. All day, the actors had been singing along to prerecorded versions of "Carnaval" piped over the loudspeakers. But somehow they hadn't gotten around to recording Anthony's side of his duet, so they had to fall back on the only other version on hand: the Broadway cast album. Which meant that Lin wasn't just singing with Anthony that day, he was harmonizing with himself at age twenty-eight, when every bit of what was happening around him would have seemed like a ludicrous dream. "It was like time travel," Lin says.

By three p.m., when everybody had returned from their lunch break-blood sugar bolstered by the ice cream truck that Stephanie Beatriz had hired-time was growing shorter, the day hotter. Now when choreographer Chris Scott talked to the dancers, many listened with hands on hips, hands on knees.

From his fire escape, Lin did his bit to keep up morale. He joined in the clapping that broke out between scenes; he made silly faces; he pulled up his shirt and did belly rolls. Guests watched from the edges of the shoot: Lin's dad and wife, Quiara's sister, Chris's mom, Anthony's sister and mom. Anna Wintour stopped by.

Jon is not the type to direct through a bullhorn, barking orders from the shade. When they'd filmed "96,000" earlier that month on a couple of unseasonably frigid days, he had jumped in the Highbridge Park pool with the cast.

On this day, he darted around the courtyard, giving notes to actors, framing shots, conferring with Alice. He is also not the type to speak in mystical terms, but when he thinks back on that day, he remembers "the sun shining down like a laser-it was like the sun was shining out of everybody."

By late afternoon, the boundary between the make-believe world of the movie and the real world of the shoot had all but melted away. They had reached the part of the song where Usnavi and Daniela try to call forth their neighbors' pride in where they come from. Anthony climbed onto a picnic table and faced the whole cast, rapping, "Can we sing so loud and raucous they can hear us across the bridge in East Secaucus?" Daphne stood near him, arms wide apart, raising them up, willing everybody to stand tall, to keep going.

Both of them were throwing all their skill and commitment into their performances, the stars of two of Broadway's epoch-making musicals doing what they had trained to do. But they also weren't acting.

"To raise the flag for your country, to dance and recognize that we're all here together, and belong here, we don't need to be forgiven for it, or ashamed for it," says Daphne of what she was feeling. "There's a pride in being here from Colombia, or Panama, the D.R., Puerto Rico, Cuba, wherever."

At eight o'clock, with the sun sinking toward New Jersey, the dancers were still dancing. Eleven hours had passed since Daphne had belted out "Hey!" to start the song. Now Jon was trying to get the right take of sixty-plus voices shouting "Hey!" to finish it. In the movie version of the scene, the blackout ends when the song does, so a voice on the loudspeaker would announce, "The power's on!" That's how the actors knew the right moment to cheer that it was over.

After one such cheer, it really was over. Not just the take-the song.

They had done it. They had made the day.

Jon jumped into a swarm of dancers. (Ever see a baseball player hit a walk-off home run, then leap onto home plate into the waiting arms of his cheering teammates? That's what this jump looked like.) People were clapping and shouting and hugging and crying. Alice thought the whole thing was a miracle.

"You know when you see people at a concert cry, and you're like, 'I would never do that'?" asks costume designer Mitchell Travers. "That's what I did." He thinks it's the most sheer human energy he has ever been close to.

Anthony Ramos, in the middle of the crowd, launched into a speech. He can't remember his exact words. He hadn't planned what he was going to say-he hadn't planned to speak at all. He just felt that something needed to be said.

"I might have said, today we made history," he recalls. "This was for our ancestors who didn't get the opportunity to do this-who were fighting to have a chance to do what we just did. It was for love of the culture. It was for our kids, who look like us, to be able to see themselves on the big screen, to see us singing about our pride. Some s--- like that."

Somewhere in the crowd stood Dascha Polanco, cheering with the rest. She was sweaty, tired, tear-streaked-and beginning to feel the spirit move.

"I looked down and saw that concrete floor," she says, "and I saw those fire escapes up there, and I was like, 'New York.' "

She began a chant. It was slow and pitched low: "N-e-e-e-e-w York, N-e-e-e-e-w York." In seconds, the whole crowd took it up. "N-e-e-e-e-w York! N-e-e-e-e-w York!"

They were pointing to the sky. They were dancing.

"N-e-e-e-e-w York! N-e-e-e-e-w York!"

"It wasn't like chanting, 'Oh, I love New York,' " Anthony says later-meaning it wasn't a casual thing someone would casually say. "It was"-he drops his voice an octave and leans in-"I motherf---ing love New York. I'm proud to be from New York. I'm proud to be Latino from New York. That was the chant."

Lin, on his fire escape, was overwhelmed. Quiara, in the courtyard, guessed that people could hear them all chanting for blocks around. "It was the sound of joy and survival," she says. "And the sound of people who were really proud to be artists in community together-all our stories braided and interwoven at that one moment."

The long months of preparation had yielded the thing that movie people dream of creating: the burst of real emotion, the flash of genuine spontaneity. Some of it infuses what you see in the finished version of the song, but some of it can't be recovered now. It's an experience only for the people who got to be part of that impromptu celebration, the carnaval that followed "Carnaval."

That long day and its joyous finale capture, in miniature form, a lot of the Heights experience-what's powerful about it, what's rare. Instead of expecting little from the actors it featured, Heights demanded everything-not just what they could do, but who they were and where they came from. By fusing them with dozens of other artists making the same commitment, it gave them the feeling that Lin had wanted so badly for himself when he started writing the show: a sense of belonging, of being part of a group of people working toward a goal they all hold dear. That's why Anthony, looking back on filming "Carnaval," says, "That was one of the greatest days of my life. Period. If I never do another movie again, I did this."

"Something that arises in 'Carnaval' is a feeling of, 'There's a place for us,' " says Quiara. "But the place is not one that says, 'Oh, I definitely fit in' or 'I definitely don't.' It holds those questions. It allows those questions to exist."

Those questions, she has come to see, are universal.

"People are like, 'What is my place in the world?' That question is actually part of your place in the world," she says. "There's something about In the Heights. It takes such a burden off to hear, 'Yeah, there's a place for you. Here it is.'"

[crushzone]

Haikyuu!! Characters As A Film Crew (Pt. 1: Pharmacy Commercial for Gardening Tools

NO ONE asked for this, but I felt a strong urge to bring it to existence. 😂

Will probably be a multi-series because I breath, eat, and sleep on film sets, and even if they are the same crew positions, they all got different styles and reactions based off the premises.

Also, not all positions will be included. I’m only typing the specific ones where Haikyuu!! characters occupy.

So consider each of these headcanons as one film shoot. And the next part as a different shoot. Some characters might get called back to be on future shoots, so expect some reappearances.

And if you have a goofy idea for our next premise, we might be able to open a lil brainstorm pool.

———————

Premise:

The crew gathers, bright and early, on a commercial shoot for a pharmacy store. They’re trying to promote their newly stocked Spring gardening products where a shopper browses through the aisles, then a group of dancers and a leaf mascot emerges and begins dancing.

———————

1st Assistant Director - Sugawara Koshi

He’s so happy to be here. When he hears that there will be dancing involved, he gets SO excited.

When the shot is rolling and people are dancing, he will be right by the director, swaying happily to the songs that they are dancing to. By the end of the first day of filming, he’s already remembered all the dance moves.

Because he enjoyed the fun dancing so much, he gets too distracted to...you know....actually do his job.

Is the main reason why the film shoot goes overtime; because he forgets to keep the director’s and cinematographer’s time in check.

He’s also not very harsh when it comes to putting his foot down and telling the cinematographer that this HAS to be the last shot before they  move on.

When the cinematographer kinda brushes him off, he will pout a lil, and mentally settle on allowing them 2 mores shots just cuz the dance is so fun in this. And same goes for the other shot, then the other...holy crap we have to be out in 15 minutes?! Where did the time go.

If they need more extras to dance, he low key wishes that he could hop in and help out. And when they let him, he is freaking happy.

Is very kind to any production assistants who may be new to the gig.

Makes every instruction sound like a very polite request.

All production assistant interns have a crush on him, and they keep trying to bring him fruit snacks from crafty.

Cinematographer - Tsukishima Kei

The wrong man for this particular shoot

He’s low-key a little embarrassed that he is going to be filming a bunch of people dancing and being happy.

While everyone is happily dancing along, he just glowers by the camera when some dancers can’t seem to hit their mark right. They’re not going to get the perfect spotlight he’s designed for them, dammit!

Gets a little annoyed by how Suga is so excited about the dance.

Also hates the fact that there are so many actors, it’s making him a little anxious about any background actors knocking on his lighting or camera equipments. 

Needs to sip on some Caprisun to calm his nerves, asap.

Will never tell his brother, Akiteru, how his shoot went when he gets home. That, or he’ll make it up, that he actually shot a horror film or something less “lame”.

Will eat the catering meals that are provided, but will silently judge how stiff the chicken is, or how overcooked the pastas are.

The kind of cinematographer who always remains by the camera, and doesn’t really help lighting and grips much when they need it. (It’s a very small crew, so some people are doubling duties.)

Will also leave most of the work to his camera assistants, treats this commercial shoot with the standards of a feature film, and will get kind of annoyed when his expectations are not met. However, if someone asks him if he’s okay, he’ll just smile and say that it is all dandy.

Wouldn’t even accept fruit snacks that his assistant camera brought for him, in an attempt to lighten his mood.

Sodium levels are very high.

Lighting - Wakatoshi Ushijima

Just general really quiet and stoic

No one really notices him, but even before the cinematographer can figure out how to describe the way they want the shot lit, he’s already had a massive light set up on stand by and is ready to go.

Also freaking strong, while the other electrics are figuring out a way to carry this lighting contraption across the pharmacy, and up the stairs wit no elevator, he’ll just say “Let me try”, picks it up, then walks out there alone like he’s holding a feather.

Him and his big lights lol

Somehow, his hands are heat resistant? He tends to lose his leather gloves when he lends it out to someone who needs it. So he just uses those cheap, thin gloves from expendables to adjust some hot lights, and he never flinches. We will never know if it actually hurts him or if he just doesn’t react, even when we can clearly see the smoke coming from his melting gloves.

Doesn’t know anything about voltages though, if there is an outlet, he will plug. Keeps blowing the fuse, and while some people are afraid to mess with the pharmacy’s breaker, it doesn’t bother him. Flips EVERY switch till it works, without reading the labels. definitely gave locations a heart attack.

Never complains about poor catering, but he will bring his own healthy lunch and breakfast.

Though he’ll occasionally snack on fruit snacks from crafty. However, if he got the last packet of fruit snacks available on crafty and someone wants it, he will give it to them in a heartbeat.

Makeup - Satori Tendou

There will be people dressed as leaves and trees? Some farmer-themed costume? DANCING?! He’s DOWN.

He probably had no makeup experience, but he found a way to fake his resume, so that he can put in all of his acrylic finger painting “experiments” as his experience.

When he gets there, his eyes sparkles at ALLLL of the people who are waiting for him to turn them into something.

Doesn’t really listen to what he was instructed to do, so some of the customers who were suppose to have some natural makeup, got turned into a tree as well. Fortunately, the director was able to work around this error, but now they are very short on human-looking actors.

Surprisingly not as awful with his body painting as he could’ve been? Not the best, but he’s not too shabby.

Started off doing the actor’s makeup with one of his original random humming, but when he steps outside to see some of the dancers practicing their moves, the song instantly got stuck in his head, and he CANNOT stop singing it. It’s beginning to drive some people insane.

He will be by the monitor, wiggling his lil hips and humming to the song. He had to be hushed by the Assistant Director Suga a few times, but he can’t help it, music just kind of rumbles out of him like breathing. Also, it’s not like Suga is so harsh about his hushing to begin with, but it did annoy Tendou for a hot sec, before he disregards him since he also notices him dancing next to the director.

Terrible at sanitizing his brushes. Will use the same brushes on different actors (gross). When an actor complains about sanitization, he just pretends like it had JUST occurred to him that they are right. Then he would set the brushes down and go at it with his freaking fingers.

Tilts his head like an owl and steps 10 steps back to study how his makeup job looks, before coming back to examine up close. Just really not subtle about it.

Grip - Keiji Akaashi

This man is a grip i would HIRE in a heartbeat.

Just like Ushijima, people don’t really notice him, per say, but in a way, you also can’t help but notice how he’s always shadowing the cinematographer so he can get a head start on instructions and problem solving.

However, he is very methodical though. Never just asks his team to grab a gear until he is sure it will be used. He just understands that most equipments are freaking heavy, and he never wants to overwork his crew.

Always hella crafty; need a dolly shot, but you couldn’t rent one? Here’s a shopping cart lol. Sound department misplaced their dead cat? (It’s a fluffy thing that you put over the microphone to prevent wind sounds), just let me buy a teddy bear from the kids section and make one for you. His rigs definitely makes it to shittyrigs Instagram page often.

But you have to admit that his shittyrigs are pretty impressive AND actually secure.

Ended up getting pulled into the commercial to be one of the costumers, since they were short on actors (Since Makeup Artist Tendou kept turning actors into trees). He barely reacts to anything so they had to pull him back out.

Because his roommate, Bokuto, is taking the role of the main leaf mascot, he cannot wander off to rest between takes because Bokuto keeps looking to him for approval haha.

Really quiet, but when anybody comes up to him for some advice, he never hesitates to share what he’s learnt from his experience.

Lead Actor (Mascot) - Kotaro Bokuto

Is Akaashi’s roommate.

One day when Bokuto returns home, all pouty, because he decided to quit his job, Akaashi tries to think of a way to get this man a job that he would enjoy.

Then when he tells Bokuto that he’s hired for a commercial shoot as a Grip, Bokuto basically threw him a little ice cream party (he probably throws Akaashi a little celebratory party every time he gets a gig, and he is an experienced regular who gets gigs ALL the time.) but he did sensed something wrong: As happy as Bo is for one of his many grip gigs, there’s an underlying atmosphere of sadness that he can’t brush off.

“How do you feel about potentially dancing in a leaf mascot costume for a commercial shoot?” And at that question, Bo’s eyes sparkle ✨

Seeing as Akaashi had worked with this advertising company as a freelancer for a while, he put in a good word for his friend.

When Bokuto shows up for audition, the casting directors LOVE him. Gets the role right away, and from that day on, this company keeps re-hiring him as their different mascots.

The crew loves him, the client loves him, and the casts love him. This man is THRIVING.

Not the best dancer, but he’s energetic enough that it’s just endearing in his own way.

When he gets handed the leaf costume, he’ll accepts it as if someone’s handing him a sword.

Just stomps around the pharmacy as a lil leaf, the heat of the suit doesn’t even bother him when he could look this cool. However, he’ll trip on his costume A LOT, but he’s fine because it’s actually pretty cushiony.

In one of the shots, he tripped on his costume, and simply stands back up to continue dancing like nothing’s happened, cuz the show must go on. That was the shot that made it to the final commercial.

The choreographer actually tried to teach him a dance, but because he’s pretty bad at learning dances, they just let him do his thing.

Boom Operator - Lev Haiba

This tall boi is BORN to be a boom operator.

Due to his naturally friendly demeanor, a lot of background and dancers thought that he is flirting with them. However they later realize that he’s just friendly when they figured out they were all swooning over the same person.

Can hold boom poles very high, like he can hold it over the aisles without a ladder sometimes.

This is his first gig, so he doesn’t really know tricks to hold the boom pole for an extended amount of time.

So his arms will probably tire out real fast. And sometimes you can turn around mid dance to see that he has his eyes closed and his arms are TREMBLING. (Poor boi, but please keep your eyes open when the camera is rolling lol.)

And when the shot is cut, he will bring his arms back down and smile SO big cuz he gets to relax. But will cry when they have to go again.When will this shot cut omg. The dance sequence is so long.

Because he keeps his eyes closed, he always accidentally dips the microphone in frame. I can assure you that you will hear “BOOM IN FRAME” about a 100 times on this shoot.

When the director views their favorite shot, they realize the microphone is in frame, Lev would smile VERY innocently when the director groans.

Trips on his own microphone cable. Akaashi had to come up with a contraption to save him from tripping.

No idea how to coil cables, so it’s always just a big spaghetti mess.

Always eats SO much during lunch.

Always bumping into shelves, counters, fridges. If you hear the sound of 30 cans falling from a distant aisle, it’s probably Lev and his boom pole. Will also give locations a heart attack.

Same goes for if you hear “OW!!” it’s probably him too, but this time he is tripping on his cable, before the pole lands on someone’s head.

Just overall a very chaotic and dangerous boom operator.

Transportation - Hinata Shoyo

Honestly has no idea what he is doing. JUST learnt how to drive recently, so he figured, he’d make some money.

Can’t even follow the GPS so well. GPS: turn left at Baker St. Hinata: BUT WHEN?! Is it this street? Whoa, this car is coming out of the street...oh...that was Baker St. uhh, I’ll do another loop. Actor: this is your 4th loop!!

Gets kind of overwhelmed by how many actors he had to pick up. This is a pharmacy commercial shoot right? Why are there so many actors?!

Just gets really awkward when there is no one to transport though. Like what else is he suppose to do now?

Would just hang out around crafty and stress snack. Then he’d have to run to the bathroom often cuz he ate too much.

Because of that, you can’t really find him when you need him, sometimes. He’ll have to keep responding to his radio while in the restroom.

Totally thinks that the distortion of the radio will mask his flushing. But he is WRONG.

Dancer - Terushima Yuuji

Is actually a pretty great dancer. He gets to be one of the dancers who get the most screen time.

The choreographer loves him, he even asked if he can please add his own flair to it, and when he attempts some free styling, the whole team is impressed, some even swooned.

Found a way to convince the director to have him wink at the camera, and that may or may not be why the pharmacy’s gardening products were nearly all sold out the moment the commercial aired. Never knew gardening could be this sexy, did’cha? *winks*

Playboy af. At the end of the shoot, he’s got 10 new numbers from cuties on set, can’t even decide who he should hit up first. Some of these numbers, he got them from crew/cast members who genuinely thought his cocky behavior’s pretty hot, but a good half of it also came from his persistence.

Demands some fancy snacks for crafty, but when the crafty person leaves to go find that snack for him, he quickly shoves a handful of some junky candy and cheetos in his pockets. 

And those snacks will probably be his dinner tonight.

Is a little bit of a jerk to “newer” actors. Like bruh, this is not even a film shoot for a movie, it’s just a commercial. 🤷🏻‍♀️

REFUSES to be turned into a tree. He will maintain his sexy human form, please, and thank you. But sexy farmer is fine, I guess.

Background Actor (who dances too) - Kageyama Tobio

Shows up thinking that all he has do is to just push shopping carts around in the background.

Wrong

He didn’t know he had to dance too. And suddenly all blood drains from him.

What is he going to do?! He was already in 2 of the shots, he can’t back out now.

When it comes to the dancing part, he is as stiff about it as you can expect.

Why are there no yogurt or milk at crafty? :( He needs it now more than ever, to calm his nerves.

But when he did get it, and drank it, it didn’t seem to sit too well in his tummy when he dances. He’s confused.

Freaking transportation guy keeps occupying the bathroom. His name is Hinata? He knows because he can hear Hinata’s name being called through the walkie while he is in the restroom.

-----------------

A/N This is my first headcanon, so please let me know if there are things I can improve on! 🥰

——————

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life

[ryik-the-writer]

Note: I started this fic way back in 2016, and had this Thanksgiving-themed chapter planned in advance.

Over four years and several bouts of depression-induced writers blocks later, I’m glad to finally get it out. 

I present to you: Marinara Main - Burnt Bits I . Feat. Rumbelle and a big dash of baby! swanfire.

A03

Mr. Gold pulled into Belle’s next stop, smiling at her apologetic grin as she jumped out and grabbed two pizzas from the back and bounded up the stairs to her customer’s home.

It had been two months since Belle’s French Bread’s business car had burst into flames, setting off a chain of events that involved him lending his assistance, or just his vehicle really, on her deliveries and them dating on the side. It was where they could be together without the mocking or overbearing look from the town. It was theirs, and even if Belle was delivering pizzas and Gold was just watching from the window, they were together and having the seats smell like melted cheese was worth every second.

“How’d it go?” he inquired when she jumped back in the front seat.

She leaned in and kiss his 5 o’clock shadowed cheek. “$6 tip.”

“Hmm. I should have glared at him a little more, make him drop a full $10.”

Belle gave him an unamused look. “I asked you not to scare my customers.”

“Just making sure they’re not gouging you, dear.”  

Belle sighed. She knew her sweetheart meant well, but she valued her independence. She swallowed her pride when he offered her his car for the sake of her family’s business, and held her head tall when she moved into his spare room after her accident, but drew the line with him bullying her customers into paying her sums she wasn’t offered.

It was there last delivery of the night so Belle decided to drop the disagreement for now. She had other things to worry about anyway.

“Didn’t you say Bae had an old bike gathering dust in your garage?”

“I’ve began using it as a garden decoration it’s been sitting around for so long. Why?”

“How much would you want for it?” she hated equating money into their conversations. It was gross reminder of their status difference, something he swore up and down he kept forgetting about but haunted her.

Mr. Gold slowed to a stop at the stop light. “Belle, I apologize for earlier. I was just being facetious, I swear.”

Belle paused. “Thank you for that, but what does that have to do with the bike?”

“You don’t want me to drive you around anymore.”

Belle cringed at the accusation. “That’s not it at all!”

He sagged in his seat with relief and Belle couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing when he joined her. They really needed to work on not jumping to conclusions.

“What do you need a bike for then?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you working on Thanksgiving.” She answered.

Gold looked at her. “Your father is making you work on the holiday? Is he mad?”

Belle rolled her eyes. She wondered sometimes if her father really was.

“No, just blinded by dollar signs. I read him something about how in China people have fried chicken instead of turkey and now he’s convinced that if we’re open people will forgo the turkey and order a pizza.”

“Logical.” Gold deadpanned, speeding up at the green light. “As for the bike, never you mind. You can borrow my car.”

“Won’t you and Bae be going away for the holiday?”

Mr. stared at the road ahead. “It’s always been just the two of us. Not much to celebrate really.”

Belle felt her heart sink, knowing that story all too well. After her mom died, Belle had her father spent many holidays in their quiet home with TV dinners in their laps and a game blaring. After he opened the business, holidays got livelier but there was still this sickening loneliness that bounced around in her gut.

“Well, I’ll just have to convince my dad to close shop early.”

Gold blinked from his gaze and turned to her. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to need his help turkey shopping if we’re having you and Bae over.”

Gold startled back the horn, his hands flinching around a he tried to grasp the proposition.

“I…no Belle really. We couldn’t impose.”

“You’d be doing me a favor actually. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving meal in years.”

Gold pulled into the parking lot of French Bread. He wanted to say know, wanted to save her the burden of having him invade her home on a day that was restricted for family. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful gleam in her eyes.

He sighed and nodded. Belle squealed and nearly jumped into his seat, kissing him roughly on the cheek.

“This is going to be great! I got to go make out a menu! I’ll call you tomorrow!”

He said nothing as she charged from his car to her business. He waited until the light came on before he made his way quietly home.

After checking on Bae’s homework situation, he stepped into his office and discretely pulled out the antique ring he had planned to offer Belle.

He wanted to be excited, and in a way, he was. His son would be able to have more festive holiday and he’d be able to spend more time with Belle, and hopefully find the right time to ask her the big question.

But crowds were not his forte, and he still wasn’t sure how her “boys” felt about him, let alone her father. He did not want to face another kidnapping escapde like he did on “poker night.”

Sighing, he left the ring alone for now, making a mental note to stop by the liquor store on his way to Belle’s tomorrow for two bottles of wine: one for tonight and another for the holiday.

-,-,-,-,-

Belle double-checked her table setting as fidgeted around the small kitchen of her and her father’s apartment.

Five plates were set: her and her father’s, Mr. Gold’ and Bae’s, and a guest her father had invited that may or may not show up.

Jefferson and Grace were heading to Jefferson’s in-laws, whom they both hated but had to visit at least once a year to avoid a nasty custody battle (which often lead to a week of pre-panic attacks from Jefferson; thank God they put that cot in the backroom).

Merlin was heading to dinner near Boston for a football game, and then to a children’s hospital, and Will was meeting Anastasia’s parents for the first time and asked only for prayers.

Belle checked the clock; it was just past 12:30 and “dinner” started at 2:30. She never quite understood this tradition of eating so early, but decided not to argue when she had five stomachs to worry about.

Belle hummed as she thought about her father. He had left early in the morning to pick up their “mystery guest”.

Thank Gods.

Moe French had started their pizzeria on a whim all those years ago, and really had no legit culinary skills. If it weren’t for her and Merlin jumping in and secretly taking over, French Bread’s would have literally burned to the ground. All his recipes had to be seriously revamped, but thankfully Moe was out half the time, handling the books or the equipment or something else that kept him far away from the food.  

Just as Belle was checking the turkey’s temperature, a knock thundered through her father’s tiny apartment. Belle panicked a bit. Whoever was at the door was extremely early, and the she had no idea how she would entertain them for two hours while she tried to finish the meal.

She threw her oven mitts on the table and rushed to answered the door before anything burned, blinking at who was there.

“Hey,” Jefferson smiled shyly.

“Hi Jeff,” Belle greeted, stepping aside to allow them entry. “What can I…”

She glanced around him and noticed Grace wasn’t with him, which wasn’t a surprise, but he was supposed to be with her.

Belle asked bit urgently. It was no secret that Jefferson had major issues with his late-girlfriend’s family. They never thought he was good enough for her, and all but disowned her when she fell pregnant. Following her death when Grace was just over a year old, they suddenly wanted sole custody. Pinning down a job at French Bread’s had been the first step to securing Grace’s future, and Belle had been so patience with his back-and-forth court dates while he sorted himself out.

She only hoped something wasn’t stopping him from attending his mandatory dinner.

“What’s going on?”

“They um…” Jefferson shrugged. “I…decided not to go.”

Belle eyed him carefully, seeing the bags under his eyes.

“Ah,” Belle said with an affirmative nod, knowing now that she couldn’t turn him away, holiday or not. Her and the rest of the French Bread’s crew were all he really had.

She stepped aside. “You’re on dishes duty.”

“Deal!” Jefferson gasped, pulling her close and giving her a smack on the cheek so loud it made Belle’s ears ring.

“Down boy!” Belle hissed, giving him a playful smack. “You stir the beans while I move the table around.”

Belle had just placed two more plates down when someone knocked on the door yet again.

She answered it with a huff, and was a bit surprised to see Merlin enter, a brown bag in his hand.

“Hi,” she greeted a bit uneasily. Merlin had left after closing yesterday to make his trip, and wasn’t due back until Sunday. By the look on his face, he hadn’t stopped to rest.

She ushered him to the kitchen where Jefferson pulled out a chair for him to sit.

“What is it?” she asked earnestly, unnerved to see her strong-minded friend in such a state.

“Nimue was at my hotel,”

Belle and Jefferson both paled. Belle didn’t know all the details about Merlin’s borderline insane ex-girlfriend, but did know that he came to Storybrooke to get away from her.

“How did she know you were there?”

“I have no idea,” Merlin sighed, exhausted. “I saw her before she saw me, and I got out of there as fast as possible,”

Belle nodded, sharing a look with Jefferson.

“How about you stay for dinner,” Belle insisted. “We’ll walk you home tonight.”

Merlin began to stand, muttering something about not wanting to impose, and Belle had to stand on her toes to weigh him down.

“You’re imposing as much as Jefferson over here is,” Belle joked. “Help me figure out this new table arrangement.”

As her friends helped her in the kitchen, Belle glanced down at her phone. Nothing from Gold or Bae yet.

Belle frowned, wondering what was keeping her kind-of boyfriend and his son, and more importantly if she was going to be able to fit them in her tiny apartment now that there were so many extra people.

Just as she about to pull out the chair she had in her bedroom, the doorbell sounded once more.

“I’ll get it,” Merlin volunteered. Like Belle, he hoped it was the Gold’s.

The resounded “oh” he released afterwards gave Belle the answer she needed.

“Hello darlings!” came a high accented voice.

Everyone turned as a tall blonde woman head to toe in scarlet entered Belle’s tiny living room, wearing sunglasses that left only the tip of her nose exposed.

She gasped and inspected Belle’s home like a tourist who has stepped foot onto Time Square for the first time, even looking at her and her guests like they were performers.

Merlin and Belle exchanged curious looks, and just as she was about to ask who the tell was in her home, Will came bounding through the house, throwing a series of suitcases into her entryway.

He collapsed against the door, looking up with her a nervous smile.

“Hey…”

“Hi,” Belle greeted, eyeing the blond as she examined her father’s dusty shelf of knickknacks. “What’s uh…what’s going on, Will?”

Just as she said that the woman turned around, approaching Belle with a wide smile.

“Darling, thank you so much for having us,” she said as she kissed Belle’s cheek.

Belle stared at her wide-eyed, shooting another at Will.

“You remember, Belle,” Will said with a strained smile. “You said you wanted Ana and I here for Thanksgiving and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Of course…” she said, her mind going into overdrive as she struggled to think how she was going to fit nine damn people at two-person table.

She snuck a calming breath. This is what holidays were about, and there was no way in Hell she was turning Will, a man she saw as a brother, out the door.

Besides, she and the other men of French Bread’s were wondering about this mystery girl Will would take weekends off to see, would take extra shifts for so that he could make a few extra bucks. The four of them had everything on the table when it came to each other, all their past and present secrets.

Or so Belle thought.

Still, she smiled whole-heartedly. “It’s great to meet you, Ana,”

Ana offered a wide, glass-like smile. “Thank you, your home is so,” she glanced around. “…simple!”

All the goodwill Belle was ready to extend crumbled around her, and it was then all the little details Belle had noticed about her had gathered together.

High quality clothes and accessories, gawking at simple, working people.

She was a rich bitch. Like Regina, like countless other people who turned her nose up at people like them.

Belle glanced at Will. Did he know? Did he care?

His gaze was pitiful, begging her not to say anything.

He did know then. Belle felt a bite of betrayal on her heart. Why would he deliberately associate with someone like her, someone who would only hurt him.

A calming hand met her shoulder, and Belle met Merlin’s warning glare.

“Ana,” he greeted. “Please make yourself at home. Belle, Will and I are going to work on the seating situation.”

Ana nodded, a pleased gasp escaping her lips when she studied her father’s tacky decorations.

Merlin steered Belle and Will into the kitchen where he and Jefferson had watched the exchange.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Will,” Belle sighed exhaustedly.

“It was really last-minute, I’m sorry,” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”

Will’s gaze melted into a glare. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay,” Merlin said, moving between them. “How about we try to get through dinner before we start class warfare, okay?”

Belle and Will glared at each other, but it was Belle’s whose gaze lowered first.

“You’re right,” Belle agreed. “We have to figure out this seat issue before we all end up in the park.”

Will met her smile. They’d work it out, but now they had to make an already stressful day suitable for everyone, including his unexpected guest.

“What if we ate on the floor, Chinese-style?” Jefferson suggested.

They all chuckled, the sour mood broken some.

“That might be our only option, hands in everyone,”

Four hands piled on each other as a plan came into place. They were putting on Thanksgiving dinner even if a wall had to be torn down.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

                                                          0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Meanwhile…

“Stop moving!” Emma gnashed Baelfire as she glared at his puffy finger under the high-powered magnified glass in his father’s study, the glistening stone of Belle’s hopefully-soon-to-be engagement ring glistening.

“Sorry,” Bae sniffed, and Emma sighed.

“Hold it together, Bae,” Emma warned gently, reaching out to pat his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t…well actually this is your fault.”

“It’s as much as my fault as it is yours,” Bae barked. It had been a joke, when he tried on the ring he found on his father’s desk. He’d brought it to Emma and the two gushed and joked at the engagement that was to come, ready to giddily tease Bae’s father when he came out of the shower, and get the details about the obvious proposal on the way. But when Bae had slipped it on—just as a joke mind you— he knew instantly there was a problem. It was too tight, and his finger began turning pink from the strain.

Now they were struggling to get the thing off, half dressed in their holiday best for Thanksgiving dinner.

Emma released an aggravated sigh. “We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

“But we’ll lose the ring!”

“I think your dad would rather lose the ring than your finger!” Emma argued.

Bae pondered quickly. This would ruin everything.

The ring had belonged to his dad’s Aunt Genevieve, one half of the spinster aunts that raised him. They died long before Bae was even born, but with all the stories he told of them, of how much they loved each other during a time where the law and world wouldn’t see them as one, he already knew them.

The ring was one of love, one that his father had held onto and hadn’t even given to Bae’s mother (she was more of a diamond person). But Belle would appreciated the story behind it, and she would wear it with pride.

No!

Bae jumped up and began desperately searching for anything that could be used to slide off the ring.

“Let’s go get some dish soap,” Bae began to suggest when the sound of his father leaving the bathroom echoed from the hall.

“Well, we’re screwed,” Emma shrugged.

“Not yet,” Bae denied, mind reeling with thought. If his dad caught them, they’d be at the hospital with a saw before they knew what hit them!

“Check the desks,” Bae suggested in a hoarse whispered. “Maybe he has ink or oil from his antiques or something!”

Emma gasped. “We have baby oil at my place! We can sneak it out before my parents catch on!”

“Yes!” Bae hissed, heading to the door.

“Bae, where are you?” Gold called close by, causing Emma and Bae to shrink back.

Emma glanced around and made a b-line to the window. She opened it and made a quick survey of the distance and began stepping out.

“What are you doing!” Bae hissed, panicked.

“What does it look like?” Emma hissed back. “We should be find if we jump from here.”

“Jump! Off the roof?” Bae squeaked.

Emma glared up at him from her place near the gutters. “You want to risk it or you want to wait for your dad to find us and kill you for sure.”

Bae glanced back to the door where he could hear his father moving about. With a groan, he stepped out of the window, gripping the tiles for dear life as Emma led them to the draining pipe.

“Hold on tight and slowly slide down,” Emma instructed, easing onto the pipe.

“How do you know about this?” Bae whined as he watched her slide down like a firefighter on a pole.

Emma gave him a look when she hit the ground, placing her hands on her hips and waiting for him expectedly.

Gulping, Bae took hold of the pipe, trying to steady his breathing as he tried to gain a hold. He tried to up it with his shoes, but slipped instantly, having to grab the gutter to keep from falling.

“Shit, shit!” Emma gasped as Bae hung from the gutter. “Just…don’t think about the ground!”

“Thanks for the adv—”

The gutter snapped, and Bae managed to hold onto the bending metal until it started snapping off the foundation and Bad landed head-first into a neatly trimmed shrub.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Emma panicked, grabbing hold of Bae’s leg. “Please be alive, please be alive…”

Bae groaned and slowly sat up, his face scratched and eyes unfocused.

“Anything feel broken?” Emma asked as she carefully picked leaves and twigs out of his curls.

“My brain’s still shaking, hang on,” Bae groaned.

“Bae?” Gold’s voice echoed from the office above.

“Break’s over!” Emma hissed, grabbing Bae and dragged him through the back garden and down the street.

                                                    0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Mary Margaret Nolan was –understandably – quite surprised when she answered the door and found the young Baelfire Gold and her daughter standing on her steps.

“Hi Mrs. Nolan,” Bae greeted with just the lightest air of nervousness.

“Hi, Bae,” Mary Margaret greeted uncertainly. “I…wasn’t expecting you. Emma, it’s nearly dinner time. Your grandparents are here…”

“He won’t be here long,” Emma cut in, grabbing Bae’s arm and drug him up the stairs.

“Hold it,” Mary Margaret called after them. “You know the rules, Emma…”

“We’re not going to my room!” Emma called back, rolling her eyes. She never understood why her parent’s suddenly put the “no boys in bedroom” rule in place earlier that year. Bae’s dad let them be by their selves at their place, especially on their video game-movie-pizza nights in the basement.

Oh well.

Keeping a glance over her shoulder, she led Bae to baby Neal’s room, watching every step to avoid making even the slightest noise.

“Maybe I should do it,” Bae suggested when they stood outside his room.

“No,” Emma resisted, slowly turning the knob. “If he sees you, he might freak out. Just be quiet.”

Bae rolled his eyes but stayed outside the room, waiting impatiently as Emma tip-toed into her baby brother’s room to grab the baby oil.

His father was bound to start calling him or the Nolan’s soon. They needed to get the ring off and back to his place soon.

“Find it yet, Emma?” Bae hissed as he opened the door a crack, meeting baby Neal’s large green eyes.

Bae grinned nervously at the babe, not entirely sure how to act around children. Apparently it wasn’t the right thing because Neal burst out screaming at the site of him.

“Damn it Bae,” Emma cursed, grabbing his arm and pulling him from Neal’s room as Mrs. Nolan called up the stairs.

Emma dragged him into the bathroom just as Mary Margaret sped up the steps to comfort Neal, leaving the two teens holding their breaths and listening to every step she took.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand to hold over the sink, dousing it with baby oil and trying desperately to yank the ring off.

“You’re pulling my whole damn finger!” Bae cursed, yanking away hard and hitting the door.

Emma dropped the baby oil, the plastic echoing through the small bathroom sounding like a bomb.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice rang, knocking on the door a second later.

Emma quickly locked it, flinching when her mother gasped and began wriggling the knob.

“Emma Ruth Nolan what is going on in there!”

Bae muttered a word that his father would have grounded him a month for while Emma began pushing open the tiny bathroom window.

“We’ve got to risk it,” she gasped, her blond locks flying wildly as she judged their distance.

“Oh…no!” Bae shook his head, stepping back. “I am not going through another window!”

Mary Margaret continued to pound on the door, shaking the knob profusely.

“That’s it young lady…David!”

Emma and Bae stiffened. David Nolan was a great man, but as a father he was more terrifying than a rabid bat in a Halloween haunted house when it came to his children’s well-being.

As they heard the Nolan patriarch’s boots shake the house, Emma and Bae scrambled to the window, now suddenly eager to make a quick get-away.

“Me first, he wants my blood!” Bae hissed.

“No!” Emma seethed, pushing Bae away by his face. “Me first, and watch me this time so you don’t die!”

Bae reluctantly stepped back and helped Emma ease out of the small bathroom window legs-first, sweating profusely as Mrs. Nolan relayed the locked door situation to Mr. Nolan.

“Hurry it up!” he begged as Emma grabbed his collar to pull him unceremoniously through the tiny window as her father began banging on the door.

“You have a big head, Bae!” Emma snapped as they struggled to get his shoulders through the window. Hearing Mr. Nolan’s booming voice threatening to break the door (and Bae’s legs—thought that may have been his anxiety spiraling), Bae wormed his way out until he clutching the tiles of Emma’s roof.

Emma had already located the steady gutter near her room and called out to Bae to follow her lead.

“Slowly…slowly!” she instructed as Bae struggled to grasp onto the gutters with his swollen finger. “Our gutters are cheaper than yours.”

Bae growled as he slid down the tiles, the toe of his shoe sliding over the metal of the gutter.

Just as he thought he had a chance to get off this damn roof without injury, the tell-all sound of the bathroom door bursting open shocked him to the point that he lost his grip on the roof and went spiraling down.

Emma released the drain and flew down the extra five feet, hitting the ground hard.

“Bae?” she cried, helping her friend turn over.

Bae groaned, holding his head as he looked at his best friend.

“We’re having a talk about all this when this is over.”

Emma smirked and helped him up. “Let’s get to Belle’s.”

Just as the words left her mouth the two youths heard a loud bang from upstairs.

They managed to squeeze behind a hedge before Emma’s head shot out of the window, his murderous gaze burning into the ground.

“Baelfire Gold you better have one hell of an explanation for this or I’m going to shake one from you!”

Sweaty bullets ran down the young Gold’s back, his body numb even as Emma began dragging him away.

“We got to go!”

“I…I think I’m having a heart attack…”

“Move it!”

                                          0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gold searched the misty streets of Storybrooke as calmly as his racing mind would allow.

Bae had snuck out for some odd reason, and if he didn’t have the explanation of his lifetime he’d be grounded until he graduated high school!

To add to the mystery, he could have sworn he’d heard Emma in his office as well.

The pawnbroker sighed and wondered if he had to give Bae the old birds and the bees talk again. His son was a few months shy of 15, and had been more than responsible when it came to such matters since the last time they had that talk last year, especially when it came to Emma Nolan.

He trusted his son to mind himself around the Sherriff’s daughter, and had shown any romantic interest in her. Why Gold didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he was worried that those interests may be changing if they were locking themselves in rooms now.

Just as he was about to turn around, the all too familiar sound of police sirens wailed behind him, the mulit-colored lights instantly causing his head to throb.

“I don’t have time for this!” he cursed, jumping out of the car as they both pulled to a stop.

Sherriff David Nolan stepped out, looking unamused.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to leave a car when a cop pulls you over?”

Gold glared at his sometimes acquaintance. He and David got along like sheep and sheep dogs: they did much better a part, and there wasn’t a promise that teeth wouldn’t be used during their encounters.

“When an actual cop pulls me over, I’ll remember that,” Gold snarled.

David frowned. “Okay, enough niceties, I saw your son and my daughter jump out of my bathroom window. I want to know why and where they are now. I have angry in-laws and an even angrier wife, and I am not going back to them without my daughter.”

Gold’s eyes widened. It was worse than he thought. Something was going on with them, and he needed to get to them before they got into any more trouble.

And there was really only one person he could think of that his son would run to.

“I’m not sure, but I will find them,” Gold said, returning to his car.

“Hold it,” David said, placing a hand on the hood of Gold’s car. “You know something, so either I come with you or we can settle this at the station.

Gold gave him a bland look. They both knew David wouldn’t dare, but like Gold, he was a terrified parent and would make any threats necessary to ensure the safety of his daughter.

He motioned to the passenger door, hoping Belle wouldn’t mind an extra guest for the holiday.

“Get in.”

                                            0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Belle managed to hold her tongue as the blonde bombshell gawked at her cooking. It was cute in a way, honestly, her general interest, but Belle couldn’t decide if it was out of delight or judgment.

She glanced into the living room where Will and the rest of the men were rearranging furniture to accommodate for all the extra people. He looked at her as well, begging her to accept Ana.

Belle sighed. “Would you…like to help?”

Ana’s well-manicured hands shot up. “Oh no, darling. I’ve never worked in a kitchen before.”

Belle held back a snort and helped Ana position the bowl of sweet potatoes she had been mashing and showed her how to hold the masher.

“Just keep crushing them until their smooth, no lumps. Then we’re going to put them in a dish and cover it with brown sugar and marshmallows for a casserole.”

Ana’s eyes widened as she awkwardly mashed the potatoes.

“Is this…a meal…all people eat?”

Belle bristled a bit. “It’s pretty popular for this holiday, though I don’t mind eating it whenever sweet potatoes are on sale.”

Ana paused. “You eat discounted food?”

Belle gripped the counter. “Yes, some of us can’t afford lobster and steak every night.”

“What was that?”

“I said I need to check on the turkey,” Belle replied, and it was both the true and a distraction.

Belle opened the boiling oven and poked at her crisping bird. It was the first she had made that wasn’t from a bag, and she wanted it to be perfect…as perfect at her pizza making skills would allow that is.

As she was reapplying the tin foil, Ana came to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, it’s so hot!” she laughed, the sound light and chirpy.

“Maybe don’t get so closed to it,” Belle muttered, slamming the oven shut.

Ana jumped back, tensing when Belle brushed past her.

Belle returned to cutting vegetables for the dressing, Ana coming beside her to continue smashing the smooth potatoes paste.

Belle glanced to the living room at Will’s pleading glance and continued to force conversation for his sake.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Belle inquired.

“Oh,” Ana answered cheerfully. “A little of this, a little of that. Usually I’m in a plane being catered off to some event or another.”

Belle hummed, unsurprised. “Sounds nice.”

“Will tells me you own your own business,” Ana offered.

“You’re standing above it,” Belle returned, chuckling a bit. She was rather surprised to hear Ana return the sediment.

At least she had a sense of humor. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Of course, business would be charitable at best.”

Belle’s knife stilled, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

“I…beg your pardon?”

Ana giggled, not yet knowing the beast she was about to unleash.

“Oh, it’s a sweet little hobby, darling, but you can’t possibly find it profitable,” Ana said, sweet as overly sugared coffee.

Belle gripped the knife she was holding, struggling to hold back all the nasty instincts she had to smash the blonde in front of her.

Yet…Ana was right.

French Bread had been operating in the red for years, but they’d always been pretty well off. Moe managed to keep everyone employed however, and were overall comfortable.

Belle had never looked at her business as a hobby. She saw it as a lifeline, one that she liked at that.

She made something that people liked. She offered her business for fundraisers for the local schools, and took pizzas to families after a loss or birth.

She was a member of this community, and damn it she was a business owner, no matter what she made.

Before she could defend her very livelihood—or even throw Ana’s arse out—Baelfire and a panting Emma Nolan came bustling in, slamming the door and locking it as if they were being chased.

“Bae?” Belle gasped. “What on earth—”

“You got to help us!” Emma gasped, grabbing Bae’s hand.

“No,” he protested, squirming in her grip.

Emma dragged him to her level, glaring fiercely.

“My dad’s probably on his way here with a hatchet, and I do want to jump out of another window!”

“Wait, what?” Belle demanded.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand up, showing Belle his swollen finger.

Belle gasped. “Bae, why are you wearing this?”

Bae gulped, glancing at Emma. “I…well…you see…”

Belle shook her head and led him to the couch.

“Merlin, can you grab my first aid kit? It’s under the bathroom sink.”

Merlin nodded and set off.

“Will, I need some ice, we need to get the swelling down.”

“I’ll get it!” Ana volunteered, practically skipping to the kitchen. “Oh, ice trays, how cute!”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Will…”

Will quickly got the ice from Ana, handing it to Bae without meeting Belle’s eyes.

“Crazy day, eye lad?”

“Yeah…” Bae said, wincing as Belle examined his hand.

“What happened, and where’s your dad?” Belle inquired.

“Probably right on our asses,” Emma muttered. Jefferson chuckled.

Merlin handed Belle the kit and winced at the purple digit.

“Maybe we should get Whale down here?

“NO!” Bae and Emma shouted.

“He’ll cut it,” Bae said. “Then it’ll be ruined.”

“I think your dad would be more concerned about Whale cutting off your finger than a ring from his inventory.” Belle said.

Bae looked down guiltily at the ring unknowingly meant for his possible future step-mother.

A family heirloom and a proposal would be lost today on his account. It was almost too much to bare, especially after he nearly died trying to save them both.

It’d hurt to tell Belle, but he was going to be grounded until after new year’s anyway. Might as well attempt to save one.

“Wait, Belle,” Bae begged as she was dialing the number. “I need to tell you—”

A loud pound on the front door cut him off.

“Baelfire Gold,” came David Nolan’s booming voice.

“Shit!” Emma and Bae hissed, instantly searching for a window.

“What on earth…” Belle began as Merlin began to open the door, only to have David push it open with his weight.

His heated stare instantly fell on Bae, and then on his sweating daughter.

“What is going on with you two?” he demanded.

“Dad, I can explain!” Emma swore as Bae shot up to stand behind her.

He looked back and forth between the two teens, and then finally the ring on Bae’s finger.

“Oh hell no!” he exclaims, jumping to the most severe conclusion.

Bae and Emma followed his glare, paled, and then looked at each other.

“Whoa, no, no!” she burst.

“You two are too young to get married have you lost your mind!” he yelled.

Belle stepped in front of the teens, trying to bring peace back into her living room.

“David, don’t be ridiculous,” Belle instantly defended, ducking beside Bae. “Right?”

“No!” Bae burst, pulling away from Belle. “This whole thing is because—”

The door flew open once more and Mr. Gold burst in, panting like he just ran a marathon.

“I told you to wait for me, Nolan!” he barked. “There’s three flights of steps to get through!”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, they were about to run off together!” the deputy fought.

Gold looked at his son, eyes instantly drawn to his swollen finger and the ring suffocating it.

He paled a bit, and looked at a frazzled Belle, and then the other guests in her home who looked just as confused as she (except the blonde who looked amused —who was she?)

“Belle,” he began, gripping his cane tightly. “I can explain.”

“You explain in the station,” David said, heading to Bae. “We’re going to have a talk young man—”

Gold stepped in front of him, snarling like a wolf protecting its cub.

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh this is exciting!” Ana cheered.

“For god’s sake.” Belle groaned.

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Merlin tried to sooth as Gold and David went at each other.

“Your son is a menace!”

“Your daughter was the one who was dragging him out of windows!”

“Oh my god I want to die!”

The piercing sound of the ancient fire alarm screaming through the air.

Jefferson fist-pumped the air.  “Yelling feels really good right now!”

Belle looked around at her chaos-filled living room, her heart clenching.

All she wanted was a nice dinner with her friends and family – the first real nice dinner she’d had in years at that!

Jaw clenched, blood boiling, she turned to step into the kitchen, Will and Merlin watching her carefully.

Grabbing her broom, she aimed the handle at the screaming fire detector and promptly stabbed it, the thing slowly dying with a low whine.

The room became quiet, all eyes turning to the fuming woman. Even Ana had stilled, this part of the simple life mostly unappealing.

Belle turned to turn off the stove and donned oven mitts, glaring at Merlin when he offered to assist.

She removed the scorched bird, taking a moment to mourn what could have been, before turning to her terrified onlookers.

“You,” she growled, pointing at Gold. “You said you could explain, so tell me, what the everlasting hell is happening here tonight?”

Gold gaped at her, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell if he was utterly terrified of her or madly in love.

Well, the later was a no-brainer. That was the whole reason he had delicately cleaned his great-aunt’s ring. He wanted her in his life as long as she would have him.

He looked at his son. The boy was no doubt facing a very long probation for putting him through all this, but he very honestly looked remorseful.

Gold looked at Belle, beautiful, bright, brilliant Belle. The woman he loved. The woman who’d brought so much life into his gray world.

Belle continued to stare at him expectantly, and Gold knew he needed to act now if he didn’t want to get sent through a window.

He turned to his son, frowning, and held out his hand.

Confused, Bae reached out his ringed-hand, and gasped when his father represented his whole hand to Belle.

Gold carefully got down on his good knee, the spectators in the room alighting when the realized what was occurring.

Belle’s face as well melted, her cheeks pinking.

“Belle,” he began. “I love you so much. These last few months have been some of the best of my life and I want to have so many more, years in fact.”

Belle’s knees began to shake. She hadn’t planned for this. She wasn’t ready. They should be somewhere nicer than her dingy apartment. She should be in a nicer dress. They should…they should…

“So as soon as a I pry this ring off my son’s finger…”

Bae winced.

“Clean and resize it, I…I would very much like you to be my wife.”

Belle could only stare, all words lost. Is this what true, unabridged happiness felt like?

“Well?” Jefferson urged, causing Will and Merlin to shush him harshly.

David had already brought out his phone and was recording dutifully.

“For mom?” Emma chuckled.

“Oh yeah, she loves this stuff.”

Belle released a wet laugh, tears building behind her eyes.

“I…I…”

The door swung open before she could answer, her headset father clambering in and shivering.

“Sorry I’m late Be…” he looked around and the myriad of strangers in his living room.

His eyes particularly zeroed in on Gold—the man who almost ruined his business not too long ago—who had hastily released his son’s hand and was slowly rising from his knee.

“What on earth?”

“I…think the market might have one more turkey we can grab,” Merlin suggested, clutching Jefferson and Will’s shoulders. “Let’s go see.”

The two men dared not protest. Will quickly took Ana’s hand and led her from the apartment before Belle went off on them all.

“It was lovely to meet you darlings!” she said, not seeing Belle exaggerated eye roll.

David stopped his phone and poked Emma’s shoulder, motioning that they really needed to leave.

“Bye Bae,” she whispered, signaling for him to text her later as Moe and David nodded awkwardly to each other.

“Well that’s different, the former Australian citizen said.

“I swear dad, there’s a reason for all of this,” Belle gasped, feeling a bit calmer once Gold was straight by her side.

There was a sound outside, and Moe peeked out the door, saying something so soft that Belle nor Gold could pick it.

“We can talk about this later,” Moe said, chirpier than he was a moment ago. “I really need you to meet someone.”

Belle blinked, wondering if this someone was the reason her father had been so absent from his business—and her life—for the last several months.

She glanced at Gold, who was frowning sulkily. A beautiful, abet odd, proposal had been smite, he was hurting.

Belle took hold of his hand, smiling when he met his eyes.

It’s okay, she said, we can try again.

He smiled back, thankful.

Moe stepped aside to allow, to Belle’s slight surprise, a woman enter.

Like Ana, she was elegantly dressed, though didn’t stand out quite like she had.

There was almost a familiarity to her, the way her shoulders straightened and her hands clasped over her hips, like someone in charge.

However, her attention was brought back to her current boyfriend. His hand had fallen from hers, leaving her cold, and confused.

“Belle, I’d like you to meet—”

“Why Mr. Gold,” the woman greeted, carefully.

She stepped forward, and Belle suddenly felt like she was being advanced by a wolf.

“How lovely it is to see you.”

Belle shot to her boyfriend. He was pale, trembling just enough that she could feel the vibrations in the old wood of her apartment floor.

Gold couldn’t find the words he needed. Couldn’t even scream if he so chose to.

The very world around him—years of healing, of running—gone.

All because one woman had returned into his life.

“Cora.”

[good4olivia]

i always cared

harry hook x reader  warning: dark, i guess ?  let me know if u want a part 2! 

“Harry, Harry!” You yelled as you struggled to free yourself from the ties he had you in. You had been tied to a poll for the last forty minutes, after Mal and the rest traded Uma a fake wand.

“Well, well, isn’t it nice to hear you scream my name?” You shivered at his strong accent. You hated Harry Hook, before you were sent to Auradon with Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos he made your life a living a hell - showing up to your work to steal your money, call you names and drive away your customers. All under Uma’s orders.

Seeing him again, after almost a year away you felt your heat drop. Ben promised you wouldn’t get stuck here again, of course you knew deep down this wasn’t his fault and you choose to come here to get Mal but come on, you were tied up and alone of course you’re going to feel petty and lash out where you shouldn’t.

“Why are you doing this, why.” You voice cracked, and your breath quickened. “Please, please- don’t tell my mother I’m back. I know you don’t care what happens to me-“

“I do care about you, lass. I always have.” His voice was soft and your heart quickened, what was he going on about?

“What? Harry if this is some sick prank, you didn’t fool me.” You snap back.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve had to treat you these last few years. I never wanted to hurt you, it killed me honestly. But joining Uma’s crew was important for me, for my reputation and to make my dad proud of me and the only she let me prove my loyalty to her was making you, my best friend, hate me. So I did. But it’s over now, we can be together. Just like we always wanted to be.” In his speech, Harry had inched closer and closer to you, he even cupped you face - it felt like a life time had passed before you finally spat in his face.

Harry flinched and wiped his face, the anger flashed in his eye and suddenly you regretted acting out like that, Harry for sure deserved it but you were tied up, you couldn’t run away from him.

“I knew it was going to take some time for things to go back to normal but-“

“Back to normal? The fuck you mean? We haven’t been friends for three years, Harry. And I spent 2 of those years crying and crying over how much you hurt me. My mother thought I was pathetic, hell I was pathetic. I only started to feel better when I was in Auroadon with my real friends, so please if anything you said was true and you do still care about me. Let me go, please.” Your eyes begged him to listen to you but they didn’t.

“It was all true, love but I won’t let you leave me again.” Seeing the look of pure despair on your face, he went on, “Don’t worry my princess. You’ll be on Aurodan again, Uma’s there right now about to take over it. Then evil will run Auradon.”

“NO! Harry you can’t do that, oh my gosh. What are you going to do everyone there-“

“Everyone there has always hated us, treated us like dirt just for who are parents are. You can’t seriously believe they ever liked you or cared about you-“

“They do Harry! I told you I have real friends over there, Jane, Lonnie and Audrey are the sweetest girls I’ve ever met-“

“You think they care about you? The villain kid? No, I care about you. That’s why I’m doing this, for us.” All of what Harry was saying was making you feel overwhelmed.

“H-Harry, I’m feeling lightheaded, can I eat something?” You asked. He walked up to you and started to untie you.

“You’re friends are gone, so we’ll go back to my room. I live on Uma’s ship now, dad kicked me out.” He told you.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to speak out.

He just smiled at you, “I”m better off without him anyway, trust me.” Harry picked you up and started carrying you away, you would’ve question it if your feet weren’t so tired.

Reaching his room, he laid you on his bed. “Is this part of Uma’s plan? Just extra leverage in case her plan A fails?” You wondered. You couldn’t or wouldn’t believe Harry always had feelings for you, it just didn’t make sense.

Harry just looked at you, so you went on. “Look if all you said was a lie, it’s okay. You’re just doing what Uma told you to do but you don’t have to pretend you love me.”

His eyes darkened. “I’m not lying, this isn’t Uma’s plan. The only reason you’re here is because I missed you more than you can know.” He sat next to you on the bed and went to run his hand across your hair before you grabbed his wrist.

“You missed me? What part? The stealing my money, the hurting me, the scars my mother gave me when I didn’t make enough money because you stole of it for you and Uma. That’s what you missed huh?” You spat out.

Harry flinched, “I’m so sorry, love. You have to believe that I never wanted to do anything of that. But I did it for us, now we have a place on a ship far away from our parents and now have first go to Auradon.”

“You’re insane if you think I could ever trust you again.” You pretended you didn’t feel a pinch of guilt for the look in Harry’s eyes. You moved for the door, you weren’t staying here and it was only Harry.

“You can try to leave but they all have orders from their captains first mate, not to let you off this ship.” Harry spoke. “It’s late, your better off just trying to get some sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you.” You said.

“I’m sure the nail littered floor will do just fine then.” He said as he got comfortable in his bed, you rolled your eyes before going into the bed.

“You never got me anything to eat.” You reminded him.

“Fine, just because I love you. Stay here.” He left the room, he didn’t lock it but you knew if you tried to leave it would just be a cat and mouse game with you loosing.

He returned with a tray of fish and chips and you happily scoffed it down, he smiled at you. “I thought you would’ve gagged at the sign of this considering the nice shit they have over in Auradon.”

“Food’s food Harry and it hasn’t been that long.” You smiled at him, “Weren’t you hungry?”

“No I’m okay. Just tired.” He hopped into the bed and stole a couple of chips despite it.

It was silent for a while before you asked him a question that had been burning on your mind, “If you really mean it when you say you didn’t want to hurt me, why did you keep coming back to hurt me after you ‘proved your loyalty. “

“It was my only way to keep seeing you and even though it doesn’t seem like it, I was protecting you. If I didn’t claim you as my territory, harsher gangs would’ve come for you. They would have no mercy, you know that.” He tried to reason with you.

You nodded, before turning away from him. You didn’t sleep that night, if it at all.

[swimmingnewsie]

Cookies and Coffee (Chapter 3)

Hi guys! Half of this is in fact a reupload. The other half was going to be its own chapter until I realized that the two worked better as a whole chapter. So like Sonic 3 and Knuckles, I put the two together in a comprehensive pair. So if you read the last chapter and felt it a little incomplete- this should be the remedy to that!

Please enjoy!

Link to Chapter 1 Link to Chapter 2 Link to AO3

---"...And she's taking her to dinner tomorrow night! I told you they would be perfect for each other!" Anna gloated. 

Kristoff gave her a half-smile. "Alright, you were right. Now scrub up and send Jake home. He's on drive-through."

"So you admit it! Ha!" Anna smiled back at him before giving him a fake salute. “To drive-though! Sir, yes, sir!” 

Kristoff's smile remained as she ran off, sending her co-worker home. Soon enough her voice rang through his headset. "Afternoon, everyone! How is it going?" She was always so kind and sweet to everyone, even if they didn't deserve it, standing up to the meanest customers with the kindest smiles. She would make a good trainer one day or even a shift manager if she wanted it. 

"Can I get a 10-4 from everyone here?" Kristoff asked over the set after Anna's question was generally answered. Slowly the four other employees chimed in, ready for instructions. "Everybody okay where they are right now?" There was another set of agreements. "Alright, hold down the fort, I'm gonna count tills and the do food pull. Kirsti, if front isn't busy, knock out some of the dish pile. Call me if it gets desperate."

"10-4!" Anna cheerfully said before responding to the order in the headset. "Thanks for choosing Mermaid's Siren! What can I get started for you today?"

Kristoff couldn't help but blush as he walked to the back. Even with the most basic script, her voice was melodic, dragging him in like the siren they worked for. He shook his head, redirecting his attention. He couldn't let himself think of her that way, not right now. Not only would it be an HR paperwork disaster, but it wasn't the right time. It was far too soon.

It had barely been four months since Elsa called him in desperation for him and his truck. He thought she was insane. She had asked him to drive with her to Denver- twenty hours of driving straight. Why would any person make a twenty hour drive that could easily be done in a two hour flight if she only waited a few days? The answer: Anna was in danger. Elsa couldn’t wait three days.

She had received pictures from her sister obviously hiding in a closet, a gun visible on the floor. Another photo of her bruised and bloodied face. Then a video with Hans yelling loudly, asking where his dumb slut of a fiance was and how he was going to kill her for what she did. Anna couldn’t call the cops- Hans was one of them after all. They would never believe that he was capable of such violence.

Elsa had called cops a county over, praying for the best and texting her sister the entire time. But the faster she got there the better. Twenty hours of driving was faster than three days of waiting, uncertain of her sister’s safety. She couldn’t lose Anna. Not again. 

They were there in sixteen hours.

When they pulled up to the house, cops from several counties over were still there investigating and talking. Some defended Hans saying that Anna was being dramatic and that he wouldn’t shoot the gun in her house on purpose, while others remained impartial and stuck to the facts they knew: there was a gunshot, there was a bloodied and panicked woman inside, there were previous reports of potential domestic violence from this house. The foreign officers won out, sending Hans to the police station and away from the house. Kristoff was forever grateful for those cops who fought for her. They were the reason she was still with them.

He doesn’t even want to imagine a future where Hans had been allowed to reenter the home. 

The next two days were a blur of courtrooms, attorneys, and judges. Anna had been granted a temporary restraining order. This wasn't the end, but it was enough. They grabbed as many of her possessions as she could fit in his truck. It was a haphazard job, but that didn’t matter. Anna was safe. Anna would be okay.

Kristoff shuddered, remembering that awful day. The feeling of fear, the scent of blood on Anna’s clothes, the panic in Elsa’s eyes. And for as much as it affected him, he knew it was a thousand times worse for Anna. Though she was bubbly now, he remembered the ghostly look in her eyes the first few weeks, the way she wouldn’t let anyone aside from Elsa touch her for a month. 

This wasn’t the time for romantic gestures.. He couldn’t do that to her. She was hurt and needed to heal. She trusted him, and he was not about to take advantage of that trust. Anna was his friend above all else, even if his own feelings were squashed in the process.

So he would keep quiet, let other romantic interests pique his curiosity. 

And Ryder certainly did that. Whenever the young man came in after his workouts, Kristoff couldn’t help but stare at him, muscles swollen and flexed. He was handsome, and Kristoff would be lying if he said he didn’t think about him outside of work sometimes: kissing him, touching him, holding him. Even beyond the physical, his love for animals and beautiful craftsmanship made him weak in the knees. Last Christmas, he had made all of the baristas small wooden trinkets as gifts. He made Kristoff a bear and irony aside it was his most prized possession.

Maybe he should take a page from Anna’s book a leave his phone number on his cup. He laughed softly to himself; he had even thought of a cheesy pickup line to go with it. “This drink is sweet, but you’re even sweeter.” He never understood the man’s fascination for the sweet frappes- he was a bodybuilder after all; shouldn’t that conflict with everything he did? But day in and day out, he was still glad to see him even if he had questionable taste in “coffee”. His golden smile could perk up any rough shift.

Kristoff felt himself drift into his thoughts again. Visions of the two of them dancing passed by. The lighting was soft and the music even softer. Some old folk song from his parents’ time played, and they swayed. Their dogs were lying on the couch, Sven happily watching while Nokk slept on like the tired bastard he was.

“Kristoff, I need you.” It was almost like he could actually hear Ryder saying it.

His heart warmed, and he imagined Ryder kissing his lips softly, imagined what he might taste like, imagined the way their skin felt against each other.

“Kristoff, I know you’re counting money, but we need you pronto!”

... except that wasn’t Ryder speaking. That was Anna.

Shit.

He shook his head and reoriented himself. He was at work. He was counting the day’s money. His crew was getting slammed out front. 

“I’m on my way.”

There would be time for dreaming later. 

---

Clunk!

A few days later, the sound of metal being dropped in front of him pulled Kristoff out of his stupor. The cafe had been quiet tonight, allowing some down time. They were caught up on tasks for once: no dishes needed doing, all the registers they could count were counted, and the bar was clean. In that time, Kristoff had caught himself watching the customers in the cafe. Well one particular customer: Ryder.  

“Anna, what are you doing?”

She had that glint in her eyes that he didn’t trust in the slightest. A french press was pushed in front of him, along with an array of snacks.

“I’m not doing anything,” she said, adding coffee grounds to the pitcher. “However, you are giving a coffee tasting. Here is your blonde roast. Here are some lemon bars. I’ll finish up the dark roast. All you need to do is grab some pumpkin loaf and bring it to your boy over there.”

“What on Earth are you talking about? Ryder hates coffee. You know that. I know that. He's going to hate it. I don’t think that man’s ever ordered anything with less than 20 grams of sugar here.”

“And you are about to fix that. And your customer-connection score.” Those stupid scores that their district manager Yelena was obsessed with. It made him fume. Even if he didn't have the lowest individual score in the store, he would have thought they were stupid. He was the fastest barista; he could get all his tasks done far ahead of schedule of the other closing team. Why did matter how frequently smiled at customers or made eye contact? Eighty percent of them were just hoping he’d mess up so they could yell at him and get a free drink anyway.

Kristoff sighed. “But Ryder already tolerates me? What’s the point?”

“You need practice. Go. Make a coffee lover out of that boy.” Anna shoved her finger into his back, pushing him towards the cafe. “Or a regular lover,” she said under her breath. 

“Says the girl whose only coffee tasting was her first day of training.” He gave her a good hard eye roll, but it made her grin seeing him sigh once again before taking over the tray. “This isn’t going to work.” He wandered over to Ryder’s table anyway.

Anna was happy he was trying again. She had known about his less than pleasant dealings with love before they met. She had heard the stories in passing from Elsa when she talked of their early friendship. The girls who wouldn’t give him a chance because they thought he was secretly gay. The boys who turned him away for “actual gay men”. The woman he had been with for three years before deciding that he wasn’t enough for her. It broke her heart.

That’s why she wanted this so badly for him. 

Kristoff deserved love, no matter what he said. And just like with her sister, all he needed was a little push. If she was lucky, then Ryder could give that to him.

He could give it to her in a way she couldn’t.

Kristoff was wonderful. He was sweet and kind, even if he could be abrasive with customers. He was a no nonsense kind of guy. The kind of guy that the old Anna could have fallen in love with in a minute’s notice.

But that’s how Hans had been too, and look how that turned out. 

Anna couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, not again. It had nearly gotten her killed last time. So no matter how nice Kristoff was or how good he was with his dog or how well he took care of her, she couldn’t let herself love him. Not now. 

But finding him someone in Ryder? It felt right.

Anna halfway watched the coffee tasting, the other half keeping her focus on the occasional order that came in. She giggled silently to herself as Kristoff told him of the prospect of drinking coffee black. It was something that almost made her gag her first day too. But it was quite the exercise in taste, one that was easily bonded over. Ryder played along nicely it seemed. She didn’t seem him spit out any of the coffee, timidly drinking it to appease Kristoff. It was cute. 

A small rush pulled her away from the scene before she could see the ending of their tasting. But when Kristoff came back, there was certainly something different. He wrote out a medium cup and added it to her queue before taking over the registers for her.

“Raspberry mocha for Ryder!” 

He did it. Anna didn’t think it made Ryder a coffee lover yet, but this was the first time he ever ordered actual coffee. She didn’t get to ask Ryder himself about this particular decision, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he did to get from the scrunched up face to a full on espresso beverage.That must have been one hell of a coffee tasting.

“I’m assuming by the latte, the tasting went well,” she asked teasingly. 

Kristoff ignored her, shaking his head. Then he pulled out a note from his apron. It was a phone number and a quick message.

If I have to try your coffee, you’re coming to play ball at the gym with me. Friday - 7PM. 

XOXO 

Ryder

Anna was two for two now, and she couldn’t have been happier.

[ifyougivearavenawritingdesk]

Treat You Better | Harry Hook

Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ: [Y/N] is a patient person- they got that from their father, Scar. So when their girlfriend, Mal, leaves for Auradon, they can wait it out; but Harry Hook, who’s been crushing on the feisty lion since they were ten, certainly can’t.

Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harry Hook x Reader | Past Mal x Reader

Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.3K

A/N: This is my first fic on here, so please, be gentle ;-;. I tried quite hard on it, and I hope it’s enjoyable for you! I thought it turned out a bit cliche, so I made a little quip. Let’s see if you can find it ;).

- - -

You shoved through the individuals warning the marketplace, sending those who protested sinister glares. You cursed the magic- or, more so, lack of magic on the Isle for your human form- you could’ve been an utterly terrifying lion, but since no magic existed on the Isle, humanistic animals didn’t either.

So, you were stuck like this- a weak pathetic human, with no sharp claws or loud roar to speak of.

Usually, Mal would get your through the marketplace with ease; if people didn’t find your girlfriend intimidating, they’d find her mother in that boat. But Mal had gone off with prissy princes and princesses in Auradon- but that was fine.

You could wait, right?

You went up the dock of the Lost Revenge, meeting with your crew. Uma, the leader, Harry Hook, the first mate, Gil LeGume, the second mate, and you- the third mate. You certainly weren’t offended by your role, and your cleverness and cunning certainly weren’t ignored, but you would’ve thought Harry, your arguably best friend, could’ve gotten you just a slightly higher role, eh?

“Ah, [Y/N], my love! We’ve been waitin’ on ye’.“ Harry said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You snapped your sharp teeth at your friend, the only thing left of your lion bone structure, but he didn’t back off. Why would he? He knew you’d never hurt him. You’d proved that when you were both eleven and couldn’t bring yourself to bite him in the throat when he stole your food.

“Woah, there, tiger! Gil said. You sent a warning glare at him. “Sorry, lion-”

You smiled and nodded at the annoyingly common misconception, before noting the absence of Ursula’s daughter. That’s when you’d remembered- she’d been gone for weeks now. You frowned, but quickly fixed your face back into your permanent scowl.

“I see yer’ missin’ Uma,” Harry said, looking at you softly. He frowned, a look not exactly custom for Harry- you liked the insane smirk more, personally, considering he’d found he look at age thirteen and he’d fortunately stuck to it for your viewing pleasure- “we are too.” He said gesturing to Gil and himself.

“Yeah. Where could she be anyway? Whenever she vanishes, she usually comes back pretty fast.” You scoffed.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said. “But- I got some good news for ye’, darlin’. Mal and her little crew are back- and we got their bikes.” He grinned at you.

You knew you probably should’ve been more excited at the prospect of the bikes that could get you out of the Isle, but when he mentioned Mal, that’s when you perked up. “Mal? Mal’s back?” You said, sounding like a happy puppy- or, a cat would be more accurate considering your heritage.

It made Harry sick to his stomach.

Mal had left you for that prissy Auradon place, and you still loved her. He truly couldn’t understand it. Cats weren’t supposed to be loyal- that was a dog's job. He snickered to himself- maybe he should tell that one to Carlos if they ran into each other- bloody hell, he was such a lap dog, Harry was surprised he was the kid of someone who hated dogs so avidly.

But, back on topic- “why are ye’ so excited over that bratty dragon’s return? She left ye’, remember?” Harry asked, almost angrily.

“I- Harry, she said she’d come back. And she did!” You said, eyes hopeful. Harry just gagged.

“Whatever. Gil, [Y/N]-” Harry forced his smirk back onto his face, “we ride with the tide- right into Auradon.”

You all cheered.

///

You three most definitely weren’t expecting to meet with The Core Four the second you reached the bridge separating the hell of the Isle and heaven of Auradon. But, you were focused on Mal- she looked so different...less evil.

You hated that. Your partner in crime turned into a pretty princess. What a shame.

You shook your mind of your thoughts. “Well, what do we have here?” You said, strutting gracefully towards the four VKs gone good. “If it isn’t our own band of VKs- or, ahem, forgive me, AKS.” You said, scowling as you jabbed a finger into Mal’s chest. You couldn’t help but chortle when the blue gem was dropped from her hand. “Whoopsies! How...clumsy of me.”

“[Y/N]! That was Hade’s Ember! Oh, what do I-” Mal raved about the Ember, and you scowled. What the fuck? She couldn’t even say she missed you, she was so absorbed in that Ember, goddamnit-

“Drop something?” You heard a familiar voice, and you grinned, and then, in unison, you, Harry, and Gil yelled out your praises.

“Uma!”

“That’s my name~,” She said, and you happily clasped your hands with Harry’s. Harry refused to let a blush slide across his face. Refused.

Mal held her hand out to Uma, who was holding the Hadesforsaken blue stone. “Uma, I need that.” Your girlfriend- was she even that, anymore?- said.

“And why should she give it to you? For all we know, you’ll just abandon it on an island somewhere-” You glared at her. “Like you abandoned me.” Uma put a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, but you went on, Harry watching almost enthusiastically.

“Sure, Uma’ll will give you the Ember- for a trade.” You said, tearing a gold band Mal had stolen from Jafar’s shop off your finger. “You see this? It’s worthless because you broke a promise. So why do I need a ring?” You said, chucking it into the murky depths, refusing to shed a tear. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so aware of Mal’s wrongdoings- maybe Harry’s speech did a number on you.

Harry grinned but made it so you couldn’t see. And on went the trade.

///

You felt yourself waking up from something. Your joints were stiff and pained, and you saw that you were accompanied by some of your companions- Evie, Carlos...

“What happened?” You asked, before memories flooded back into your head. The moving fucking knights, the berry bush with Jay, Gil, And Harry, Mal closing the fucking Barrier- wait. “Shit. Where’s Mal? Where’s Harry? Where’s-”

“Right ‘ere, love.” You heard a Scottish accent from behind you, and almost instinctively, your arms wrapped around Harry’s frame. You weren’t overly affectionate by any means, but seeing Harry okay was a huge relief.

“Jesus Christ, Harry- I gotta find Mal-” You said, about to sprint off but somehow Harry caught you by the collar, your cat-like reflexes not working to your advantage. “Goddamnit, Harry-”

“No, [Y/N]. I’m tired of hearin’ ye’ go on about Mal. She’s not yours, anymore, okay? She’s with Ben, and she’s gonna pop out a bunch of prissy princes and princesses out with ‘im. She forgot about ye’, [Y/N], why can’t ye’ see that?” Harry went on.

“Because, she-” You thought for a moment. She had left you, hadn’t she? When she left for Auradon, she never even tried to send a letter. When she came back for Ben, she’d barely acknowledged you. And now? She was so absorbed with her rivalry with Uma, she barely knew you were there. “She...she left me...” You said, voice cracking. Harry held you close to him. “She...left....me...”

You felt like you were in a cliche romance novel they had in Auradon; the main character comes to grips that her former love interest doesn’t love her anymore and the main character finds love in the current love interest- but, maybe that was just how it was gonna play out.

“I didn’t- Harry, you wouldn’t leave me, would you? Right?” You just needed that final confirmation, jesus christ-

And suddenly, you felt lips crash against yours. You didn’t realize how much you missed the hugs and pecks Mal used to give you until you found yourself gripping onto Harry tightly and running your hands through his hair, because fuck, that felt nice.

You pulled away from him, smiling. He finally responded to your question. “That an answer, love?” Harry asked. You leaned your head against his chest, smiling softly.

“Yeah, I ‘spose it is.” You sighed contentedly. Maybe he could treat you better than Mal ever did.

He’d gotten the physical aspect right.

[liamsmithphotography]

How to choose a wedding photographer

liam smith photography

Top tips on how to choose your wedding photographer

Know your fine art from your reportage

Look at lots of complete weddings, not just portfolios

Meet in person

Make sure you like them!

Understand what's included in each package

It's an age old question, how do you choose a wedding photographer...this is a long one, let's start with some LOL's...

Understanding the different terminology used when describing wedding photography style is integral to narrowing down your searches. I spent hours trying to define my own style. My work is fun, and it's also documentary. Wait... I've got it. 'Funcumentary' Don't you love a good portmanteau? Blend two styles of photography to invent a brand new one, how about, fine art and documentary? "fineocumentary" or "docart". Liam Smith – best docart photographer in the world (n.b, Liam is the only docart photographer in the world and wins by default)  To answer my own question, how do you choose a wedding photographer? The answer is choose me...I'm obviously hilarious.

What are these stupid words I keep reading, what styles are there? What do these words mean? I believe in creating great images. I've read endless blog posts and magazine articles trying to define what a photography style is and what it means. In my years of experience I have found that there are essentially two types; posed and unposed. Unposed can be referred to as candid, photojournalistic or documentary, essentially they are the same thing; capturing people unawares. Counter to this there are posed images; fine art or traditional. These images are orchestrated and the photographer is in complete control of the outcome. So who cares? It's easy for people within the wedding industry to forget that there is a world outside it. Phrases are coined and banded about and then thrown at the customer expecting them to know what they mean. If I question these terms objectively, fine art sounds like each image is going to take as long as a painting and photojournalism sounds like my wedding is going to be photographed like a war-zone. This is of course me being dramatic, but I hope you can see my point. Documentary/Photojournalism/Candid Documentary wedding photography (sometimes called photojournalism) refers to capturing natural moments, no staging or posing. The intention is to provide the couple with a narrative of the day, it doesn’t matter what happens on the day, your photographer will record it. Grandma falls over; click. Grooms scrunched up crying face; click. This is the real stuff. Pure emotions. No pretending. Great documentary photographers are masters of composition. Patiently waiting to create artwork out of serendipitous moments. Timing is everything. You have to be in the mix, switched on and up close and personal with people. Documentary photographers will also take couple portraits and group pictures. I've written in more detail about documentary wedding photography here Here's an example of being in the moment. Documenting events as they happen.

Fine art Fine art wedding photography focuses on recording your day in the most beautiful and elegant way possible. Lots of bright colours, clean whites, couple portraits and details. Stunning pictures that would look amazing on the mantelpiece or in an album. Fine art wedding photographers are masters of light and styling. Being able to find soft, even light is a must and a keen eye to arrange details to capture that editorial feel is a sure sign of a good fine art photographer. The main man of the fine art world is Jose Villa, his work is exceptional, “For me, it is all about making something beautiful, even if I have to insert myself into the situation. Ultimately, my goal is to craft vibrant, energetic, fine art images that are as unique as the people in the photographs.”

N.B Fine art wedding photographers often take photographs using old school film - expect their fees to be considerably higher if they do. Takeaway/What to Google Documentary/Photojournalism/Candid wedding photography – beautiful images, story telling, documenting not posing, people focused. Fine art wedding photography – beautiful images, posing where necessary, lots of details.

Should I meet my wedding photographer before booking? In short. Yes. For me, this is the second most important factor after the images themselves when deciding on who should photograph your wedding. I always say at client meetings that they have to like me. How much you can like someone in an hours meeting may sound silly, but your gut instinct is rarely wrong. If the vibe isn't right, go with someone else. In order for you to relax, you need to like the person who will be spending the day with you. Of course they won't be partying and socialising, but if you don't feel like you trust them, then ultimately you won't relax, they won't get the pictures you want and everybody loses. Knowing when it's not a right fit is an integral part of the process. A wedding is a collaboration, you have to be able to work together. Even if you choose a documentary wedding photographer who won't be posing you, you still need to trust them. There may be a moment happening right in front of you and the photographer nowhere to be seen. If you can't trust that they are off somewhere else capturing an equally important picture, then you won't relax and you won't enjoy your day to it's fullest. Meet them. It's one of the best investments you'll make in your wedding.

What defines a good photographer? This is also tricky as it is so subjective. Awards are difficult to judge a photographer by as some are more valuable than others. Certain awarding bodies use client feedback to judge the photographers quality of images and service. Others prioritise certain styles, so it's worth investigating whether or not the wedding photography award has come from a relevant and established source.  Who are these sources? WPJA, Fearless Photographers, Masters of Wedding Photography. Directories have their own awards, but only award to those who advertise with them. 'Top 50' round up posts are a technique used to get links to websites. Some photography bodies give you an award for submitting which means you can then call yourself 'award winning'. I have won an MoWP award, of which I am immensely proud. If I were to pin such a big decision on a question or statement, it would come down to this; when you look at their work, do you feel something?  Great images move people. They stir something in the soul. Whether laughter or tears, if you can feel a connection to the images, and the people within them without even knowing them, then it's a great picture and you've found yourself a great photographer.

Look at the blog in serious detail Portfolios are there to give you a wow. The blog is there to tell you the whole story. A portfolio could be made up from 100 or more weddings. A blog is one day. Even if a photographer only blogs the most insane weddings it will still show you what they delivered to the client. If you are happy with that then add them to your shortlist. Important frequently asked questions and top tips A few thoughts and important questions to consider when trying to choose a wedding photographer. How much should I budget? This is of course dependent on your personal circumstance, no one should ever consider stretching themselves financially for the sake of a wedding. I love weddings, I think they're truly magical. But life is long, your family grows and develops, magical moments happen on multiple occasions. Whether it's a wedding day, the birth of a child or buying your first house and rolling around on the carpets, life is full of joy, pay what you can afford. Between £1000 and £2000 is realistic for someone who is good. “Define good” some may cry. Well that's subjective, and I can't. You have to use your judgement on this one and trust your gut. An iMac with the same spec laptop that I'm currently typing on would be one thousand pounds more expensive. Some products are more expensive because of their quality, some are based upon branding. Look at the photographers portfolio and then examine their blog posts in detail. Only then will you be able to gauge what a full days wedding looks like and then make a judgement on call on whether that represents good value. Do I need two photographers? If you love documentary wedding photography, consider this; with a single photographer shooting in a photo-journalistic style, there is no guarantee that all of your guests will be captured in an image. Does this bother you? Maybe it doesn't. Keep in mind that the photographer won't know how your most treasured guests are. A second photographer can be a valuable asset as although it goes against my documentary ideology, the second photographer could arrange formal photographs to make sure that your most important persons are photographed in some capacity. If you're a purist like me then ignore that bit, I like to give both sides of the coin. If your budget will allow it aim for two, more pictures is never a bad thing. Note, this is likely to push your costs up to the £2-3k mark. How many hours coverage do I need? When whittling down the shortlist, working out how exactly how many hours you need might save you money. Magazines for some reason say from bridal prep to the first dance. WHICH I HATE. Many couples don't have a first dance. And what if you don't want photographs taken in the morning? Ten to twelve hours should be about right for the vast majority of people. I always say to clients the best way to judge this is based upon the general vibes of the day. If you know that your crew is going to rave until the early AM, then twelve hours might be a good idea to make sure you capture all the madness. In my experience, ten hours is usually plenty. It gives you approximately an hour and a half of getting ready and another hour or so of the evening dancing. What's included?/what do I need in a package? One photographer, ten hours, £1000-£2000 is the average cost in the UK. With that in mind, ignore books in the first instance - you can always buy one later.  I always recommend to clients that they book as many hours as they can if cost is an issue, they will always have the photographs and can save up for albums and prints at a later date. Do I need an engagement shoot? I think the question should be asking yourself is why do you want an engagement shoot? If the answer is 'to get used to the camera', then it may be worth considering the reality of that for a moment. If you prefer documentary style images, there's no need to pose, so no need to get used to the camera. Documentary photographers are skilled at being unobtrusive and capturing people off guard. Practising poses will not put you or the photographer at ease as you're both engaged in an activity that neither of you want. IF however, you love fine art style images, then engagement shoots are perfect. It gives you a chance to understand your best body position for posed photographs and gives you an idea of likely how long your posed pictures will take on the day. Gut instinct shouldn't be ignored. It exists for a reason. It's not a random part of your brain making decisions. It's a combination of all of your thoughts, feelings and experiences coming to the fore at an important moment. Trust it. The wedding is in the evening/winter etc. will lighting be a problem? You need to know the answer to this when choosing a wedding photographer if it applies. Any wedding photographer worth their salt will have equipment that can deal with low light levels. It is however, something to consider. Shooting in low light is difficult at the best of times. It's near impossible without high end equipment. -If your photographer is cheap, chances are, they won't have high end gear and will struggle to shoot in low light.  If you are having a candlelit wedding ceremony, then these are questions you will have to ask. I received this message from a bride and it is a fantastic question. “Our ceremony is in the afternoon and will be by candlelight. We both don’t like staged photos and are looking for a creative photographer that can shoot gorgeous photos in a candlelit/fairy light environment. We are very aware good photos depend on lighting etc. and are very keen to hear your take on this. Would that be something you would be able to help us with? Do you by any chance have some photos to show from other night weddings? The plan is to create a fairy light backdrop for the ceremony (which will take in a separate area) with candles in the aisle next to the chairs. In this scenario there would be no light coming from above. Do you anticipate that being a problem? There is a beam that runs the length of the aisle that we could always wrap in more fairy lights if you think that might help. In the barn where the dinner and party will take place there will be a festoon light ceiling and a festoon light backdrop behind the main table. On the tables there will be candles, additionally there are loads of lights all over the barn that can selectively be turned on and dimmed. I look forward to hearing from you!" Here is my reply: There are two main considerations when working in low light. One – the images will be grainy Two – candlelight only from below can cast unflattering shadows I’ve attached a few images for your consideration. The first image is an example of how low light levels (only lit by the fairy lights) will result in what’s called ‘grain’ on the photographs. It’s simply unavoidable, but something you should certainly be aware of. Personally I don’t think it matters and often adds character to an image, particularly black and white photographs.

It's worth noting that when light only comes from below the shadows can be unflattering. Image two I photographed in a particularly dark barn. This is a combination of fairy lights and ‘candle light’ bulbs worked very well to produce well lit photographs whilst maintaining the ambience. The bulbs fill in the shadows and provide more even lighting across the face.

My recommendation would be to have a combination of the two, candles for ambience and fairy lights to add to the ambient light. Another consideration is the heat from the candles if they will also be your primary light source. I’ve seen the Gentlemen get quite hot in a three piece woollen suit stood next to candles! To reflect Low light equals grain. Grain is not indicative of bad pictures, only low light. If you are having a candlelit wedding ceremony you should definitely ask if the photographers you have shortlisted have example images to share with you.

How do I approach the day? – Blending the styles I believe that weddings should be photographed with care and compassion as well as integrity. Capturing the narrative of the day, true to events. Weddings are an opportunity to dress up. Thought goes into every outfit, from the bride to the second aunt, everyone considers how they will look and wants to look their best. I believe that the bride and groom should also have a series of images that document the connection between them and have them looking amazing. This is possible if you shoot in a documentary style and I believe gives more genuine images than pure fine art. By mixing the two you have the benefit of controlling the location, the light and the basic body positioning, but then you let your confidence as a documentary photographer take over and let the moment unfold naturally. Believe me this takes serious practice and belief in yourself as it can feel super awkward at first, but you have to be bold, if you’re confident, then your client is confident in you. Continue as if this is absolutely normal. I've found if you stand maybe twenty feet away and say "I'm going to shoot this one quite wide so feel free to chat" something magical happens. All of a sudden they feel free to express themselves, everything becomes more relaxed and the real people emerge, not the 'people in that pose'. Then, because you told a fib and you actually have a 50mm lens on, you can shoot at f1.4 and capture those dreamy fine art style images which have all the blown highlights and shallow depth of field, AND capture a natural moment. Hazaahs all round. Here's the magic Here's an example to demonstrate my point. Here we have a beautiful couple and a beautiful location and an outrageously sunny day. The control part from me is placing them in this location under the willow tree. I have used my knowledge of light, environment etc. to place them in a setting I know will look good. The boughs of willow trees create a perfect canvas of elegant greens to create a couple portrait. Next, my instructions are thus "enjoy yourselves, the wedding flies by so take this opportunity to be together in the moment". They look great, the light looks good and everything is peachy. Then I say "I'm going to shoot this one quite wide so feel free to chat!". Then the most extraordinary thing happens. It's as if people feel like they’re no longer being watched and the most intimate moments happen. I've heard of some photographers who say to their clients "imagine a comet is about to hit earth and these are your last few moments, what would you do?". Whilst this may work for some, having to enact a scenario isn’t real to me, plus my clients would probably tell me to fuck off, after all, they did hire me because of my documentary *ahem* unposed style :). The recent image that went viral is a beautiful example of how inviting clients to interact can work. The instruction in that image was "whisper in her ear why you married her". The sentiment is beautiful as is the resulting image, but if we're going all purist, is that a real moment? If my one aim is to show clients images of themselves that they recognise, will they look back on that image and say 'that was the most amazing moment of my life' or 'that was when the photographer instructed us etc. and I cried'? Here is the magic moment. No instruction from me, everything apart from the location is spontaneous. Even the holding of the dress looks amazing, but had nothing to do with me. For me this is the perfect blend of fine art and documentary. The image is absolutely them, this is how they interact, how they stand, how they hold each other. Its magic.

The one thing clients always say The second best thing about this image? We were only gone from the crowd for fifteen minutes. Everyone tells me they hate it at weddings when the bride and groom disappear for the entire drinks reception for photographs. There's simply no need. Find a nice spot, be calm, relax, let the magic happen. It's a moment, it only lasts for a few seconds and then it's gone, so you have to be ready. So Liam what do you do for the other 99% of the day? I take pictures like this:

Liam Smith is a documentary wedding photographer from mars (probably) If you like the look of my work and my philosophy, hey, why not get in touch?

https://www.facebook.com/liamsmithphotography/ https://twitter.com/smithlphoto https://www.linkedin.com/in/liamsmithphotography/ http://youtube.com/channel/UCDRq0noH6kh0afzWK0zt_qw https://www.instagram.com/liam_smith_photography/

[tiadash]

What do you want?

JAMi2 - What Do You Want? [OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO] - fic gift for @chick-hicks about her cool characters together. I wrote this two days ago after hearing the song it reminded me of her characters Franceska(Pilot) Bianco/a and Brett Kazakov ,it's a little rushed but I wrote as soon as I got home. Hope you all enjoy it  as well.   * Another day another shootout but that's none of her business. All that Franceska,Pilot as she's know by her friends and coworkers,does is own a restaurant. One of her passions as a child was to be a famous chief and by golly she did it! However this wasn't exactly what she thought it would look like. -"Hey can I get a menu here or what?! " yelled out one of her regulars,a finely dressed man like most of his crew. -"Oh! Mi dispiace, right away!" Franceska said and ran off to the customer. Ever since one of her waitresses got shot a week ago she's had her hands full with work. It's not that she's complaining,goodness non! But when she thought about becoming a famous chef with a 5 star restaurant she failed to imagine that her precious restaurant would become a hot-spot for local gangs and mobs! It's not that she's complaining,they pay a large sum every time they come in,the only problem was one of the mob leader. Brett Kazakov a Russian immigrant and one of the most dangerous mafia leaders in NYC,here...In her restaurant,her legs don't quiver when he's around,of course not! It's not like she wants to fall down into the Earth's crust every time he calls her over to his table or spares a glance. * Ah how those were simpler times! When all she had to worry about was not getting shot or spilling a drink on someone. But it seems that God had other plans in mind for her. A month later she got a letter,a finely made one at that,just like the types she saw the mafia men read before they stopped coming to her restaurant,oh dear,what could have been there? Well apparently her restaurant was so well liked by one of the biggest mafia leaders that they sent her an suggestion! (more like order because she's not insane to refuse the mafia,she currently not sleeping with the fishes!) Her restaurant will become the Kazakov's new meeting place,oh and that's not all! The mob leader also requested that she come to him every time he comes into her establishment . Now that would have all been fine whether she had not heard how he got to power,as she heard from some of the customers Brett was the second-in-command in their group,but he brutally killed his superior. By some claims,it was with a gunshot to the head while some claim Brett hit him at the back of the head with a shovel. Either way having a man like that,who had such a short temper around her with a loaded gun is anything but calming. Just like now ,he was fuming at her for causing a mess! Oh it's all her fault,she spilled wine all over his suit... -" È-È  colpa mia! Mi dispiace!!!" she cried out trying to wipe off the wine off the angry Russian's suit,she's so distressed she can't think in proper English so her mind goes blank,she speaks in her mother tongue.-"Io chiedo sinceramente scusa! Farò in modo di non fare questo sbaglio di nuovo-" she tried to explain before the furious man's expression changed upon seeing her cry and apologize in Italian,he cut her off. -" Eh? Don't fucking cry,don't touch me." he huffed and pushed her off of him, turning his back to her  but she insisted, making him turn and sharply glare at her,grabbing her by the crock of her neck. -" What! What? What do you want?" But she stood there,shaking and crying unable to answer the simple question she was given, that day was one of the most embarrassing ones in her life... * Now that she remembers that they she sighed out a chuckle,that is such a far away memory . A lot has changed from then to now,but as fast as she could put it... Things happened between her and him,which resulted in him taking her as his personal made,that meant cleaning ,doing the chores and cooking. Now despite getting payed a large amount of money,cash the never dreamed of having,her job was anything but easy. One of the things she was currently doing was feeding Brett,who had been left bedridden since he got shot a few hours ago. He was glaring at her with such an intensity when she brought the spoon to his face. -"Mio fichetto Brett...Just say 'ahh' ,si?" she asked him with a small innocent like smile to which he did as he was asked ,much to her surprise but once he did he spat the food on her face"..." She doesn't get it but no matter how much this man disrespects her she yearns for his praises and attention,so much so that she's gotten to the point of purposely falling down & breaking things just to get a moment with him...Even if it is just him yelling at her. But still she doesn't mind it as much,just as long as he can glance at her . Even so somethings do rub her the wrong way,Brett sometimes brings people he sleeps with resulting in Pilot seeing half-naked men and women running out his bedroom ... Well now. Isn't he such a naughty boy,he's not even aware that he's cheating. He doesn't even know that they're together,but she does even if he doesn't she just knows it. It's not something she can explain without getting a weird look or two. * a few years later * Unfortunately ,even though after all these years her feelings for the mobster only grew,now she gets insulted almost every other minute it hurts but at least he pays her attention? Franceska is not really sure,she thought that she'd grow past getting offended/hurt by his insults but each time he does it breaks her inside. -" What?" she looked at the man she loved and who she fully knew didn't return her feelings,she looked at the gun being pointed at her head. -" What?" *he asked her the question,what would she want? The only reason she's in this position is because he caught her trying to poison one of his lovers. Now as any sane person would imagine he's more than angry with her,she's pinned to the wall frowning like a child at him. The thing she wants is for him to notice her but not like this. Pilot just wants to be the one he loves. To be called beautiful by him is one of her biggest fantasies. She dreamt about him turning her world upside down! Well to be fair he did,just not in the way she thought. She became obsessed over him,stalking and staring at him every so often. Up to the point where he noticed. It's just not something she thought would end like this. "What do you want?!" Bianca's eyes filled with tears and she tried to cup his cheeks ,she smiled lightly ,but that only made the man angrier. " Amore  mio,bello,mi dispiac-" her apology was cut short by a loud bang,her body fell to the floor . Brett looked down at the woman,she had too come close . She had to make him feel things he hadn't planned on feeling,hadn't she? He cussed out looking at her dead body,fresh tears forming out of his own eyes just like they did with her a few moments ago. "Итальянская сука..." he muttered and put the gun up to his head,she did it,she finally broke him...This is love.Huh? He never wanted to fall in love with her but here he is,she was the death of him,he was too mentally ill to love her in the right way. Always cussing,yanking her,threatening ...the things he did,and to think she did once say something about marrying him(it freaked him out) ... " Till death do us part...Franceska." A loud bang echoed in the mansion where they lived,his body falling  atop of hers . In a macabre way, in the end ,they did end up  together. ____ Mi dispiace: I'm sorry. È  colpa mia: It's my fault. Mio fichetto: My pretty boy Amore  mio: My love Bello: Handsome Итальянская сука: Italian bitch

[go-redgirl]

Kamala Harris Tries to Compare ICE to KKK

California's junior senator tried to bait the nominee to lead Immigrations and Customs Enforcement into comparing the agency to the Ku Klux Klan during a hearing Thursday.

Sen. Kamala Harris, D-Calif., first asked Ronald Vitiello, ICE's current acting director, about the KKK and what the group was known for during a Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee hearing.

Vitiello called it a "domestic terrorist group" that "tried to use fear and force to change the political environment . . . based on race and ethnicity."

Harris then attempted to use Vitiello's answer to draw a parallel between the KKK and ICE, the latter of which enforces U.S. immigration laws.

Here is the exchange between the two:

Harris: "Are you aware of the perception of many about how the power and the discretion at ICE is being used to enforce the laws, and do you see any parallels?"

Vitiello: "I don't see a parallel between what is constitutionally mandated as it relates to enforcing the law. I see no perception that puts ICE in the same category as the KKK. Is that what you're asking me?"

Harris: "No, I'm very specific about what I'm asking you. Are you aware of a perception that the way that the discretion . . ."

Vitiello: "I see no parallel. I see none."

Harris: "I'm not finished. I'm not finished. I'm not finished. Are you aware that there is a perception that ICE is administering its power in a way that is causing fear and intimidation, particularly among immigrants and specifically among immigrants coming from Mexico and Central America?"

Vitiello: "I do not see a parallel between the power and the authority that ICE has to do its job, and the agents and officers who did it professionally and excellently with lots of compassion."

Harris then wondered aloud how Vitiello could sit atop the agency and not know how others viewed it.

Harris might run for president in 2020 and has suggested ICE should be abolished.

Read Newsmax:

Sen. Kamala Harris Attempts to Compare ICE to KKK | Newsmax.com

______________________________________________________

OPINION:  Senator Kamala Harris is unfit to run for another Congressional Office in this country.  Anytime someone compare ICE with the KKK have many crews lose in their brain.  If she was a ‘Black American’ and not a Bi-racial person she would not have been so ‘ignorant and stupid’  to ask those insane questions.

Who elected these people in Congress.  

Someone need to pull her aside and let her know not to play with history as it relates to a group of people that suffered under the hands of the KKK.

In fact, Black American should ‘protest’ against her and have that women removed as a Senator in Congress.   

Many of the Democrats in Congress are out-of-control and have become an embarrassment to thousands of ethic groups in this Country.

Enough is enough!

[ask-de-writer]

KURIN’S FOLLY : World of Sea : Part 3 of 15

KURIN’S FOLLY

Part 3

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

23,699 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

writing begun  2006

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  Part 1 is here

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“Very well.  Master Juris having declined to open the meeting, as Captain, I shall.  The Combined Councils of the Longin are now in session.  By default, the Purser, in her role as ship’s legal officer will chair the meeting and present the issue that has forced this emergency meeting.  Are you ready, Alor?”

In a heavy voice the gray haired, elderly woman replied, “No.  I shall never be ready for a duty this hard.  I will do it, though.

“Simply put, the actions of one person have placed the entire ship in jeopardy of dissolution, renaming and total crew Scattering along with the execution of at least three more of our crew.  The Wergeld agreement with the Grandalor that shields us from this disaster is now in danger of being dissolved.”

Master Juris snorted angrily, “The damned Wergeld!  It’s tied us to the Grandalor!  That stupid thing is an Arrakan Fleet custom. This is the Naral Fleet.  It shouldn’t even be recognized at all!”

Alor took the interruption in stride saying, “I almost agree with you.  The Wergeld is the only thing standing between you, Juris, and execution. If I had to choose between you and this ship, the choice would be easy.  It’s a pity that letting you swim to Iren will also cost us the Longin!”

Master Juris’ jaw dropped. “What do you mean?” he demanded.  “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Alor shook her head.  Looking straight at Master Juris, she asked, “No?  What is the penalty for trying to influence an officer of the court by bribe or threat?”

He responded, “A swim to Iren’s halls, everyone knows that!”

Alor said gently, “When we were being investigated by the Naral Fleet Court for the piracy attempt against the Grandalor, didn’t you, as the senior representative of our Combined Councils, threaten to call an expulsion vote against Kurin?”

Still surly, Master Juris replied, “I was furious at her.  I still am. So what?”

Making a little come hither gesture, Alor coaxed, “And as the Grandalor’s advocate she was a what?”  As Master Juris’ silence drew out, she answered her own question.  “Kurin was an officer of the court.  

“Since you made your threat directly in front of the fleet’s judge, the case against you was prima facie.  Captain Sarfin had already drawn up your death warrant. I’ve seen the document.”

Incredulously, Master Juris demanded, “Then why am I here now?”

Alor pointed to Kurin and said, “There sits your answer.  When Kurin negotiated the Wergeld, she carefully worded it to include your offense without stating it directly.  You owe her thanks for your life, not hate.”  She sat, leaving Master Juris in shock.

Alor turned to Captain Mord and said, “I’m sick at heart.  Can you please carry the rest of this?”

Captain Mord drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “We were incensed and hurt when Kurin did not show up for her welcome party.  Now we know why.  Master Juris was given the job of sending her the invitation in the hope that the responsibility would help him set aside some of his ire.

“Instead of doing as ordered by this Council, he sent Kurin this note.”  He displayed the copy of Master Juris’ note for all to read.

Mistress Daeron took one look and said angrily to Master Juris, “You lied to us!  When she was late, you said that you sent the invitation and that she wasn’t coming.

“She had to chase us down with the Grandalor to keep her promise to come and help us.  Your lies had us all so angry that nobody even showed up to help her come aboard!”

The short, motherly woman turned to Kurin and said, “I don’t know how to apologize to you, Kurin. This was an awful thing.  We should never have trusted Master Juris.”

Kurin replied gently, “I understand.  He’s always been a  reliable man before, if sometimes difficult.  I would have trusted him myself, in your place.”

Mistress Daeron turned to Captain Mord and asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?  Something has endangered the ship, Alor said.  She’s not given to exaggeration.”

Master Juris rudely cut in and jerked a thumb at Kurin.  “That something is sitting right there. Your little white-haired saint.  She filed a Wergeld violation against us.”

The accusation actually made Kurin angry.  She stood suddenly, eyes blazing, white hair flying, High Cloud flapping for balance.  She pointed at Master Juris and exclaimed, “That is why I filed the complaint!  Even now, in front of you all, he lies about me.  The complaint was a provisional one, a preliminary to a violation complaint.  Subject to withdrawal if investigation showed good reason for the events.  He knows the difference but still tries to create more bad feeling!

“Alor, do you have an actual copy of the Wergeld here?”

She rummaged in her records and pulled out a few pages.  “Yes, Kurin.  This is it.”

“Would you please read out the portion of the rules of the Wergeld relating to behavior of the parties?”

Alor took a moment to find her place and read, “All parties to this Wergeld must lay aside all rancor and animus toward each other or this Wergeld is dissolved and all of its covered cases must go before the appropriate courts of law for settlement.”  She looked up with haunted eyes and surveyed the entire Combined Councils of the Longin and said, “These simple words are our doom or salvation.

“Master Juris, can you not see how far onto dry land your behavior is?  If we are not to be dragged to destruction in your wake, we have few choices.

“We can renounce you for endangerment of the ship, remove you from the crew roster and put you off on the first ship that we meet or the next Gathering, whichever comes first.  If we do that, your death warrant will be put into force.  You will swim to Dark Iren.

“Our second possible course is to declare you to be insane.  You will be, like Kurin’s mother, Lissa, entrusted with only the simplest of tasks and, by law, need to be watched at all times.  You will lose your Master’s Certificate and your shop.  Your accounts will be frozen against your recovery. When we judge that you have safe water under your keel, we can restore all except your Master’s Certificate.  That matter will be in the hands of the Fleet Craft Council.

“Finally, we can remove you from all posts of responsibility in the ship’s governance and try trusting your promise to behave in regard to Kurin and the Grandalor. If you fail us, we can decide which of the two other things we should do.

“These are now the only options that you have left open to us.”

“Me?” exclaimed Master Juris in outrage.  “If she hadn’t gone to the Grandalor in the first place none of this would have happened at all!  It’s her fault and hers alone!”   He thrust his hand violently at Kurin, pointing and trying to swat High Cloud off her shoulder at the same time.

Two things happened so fast that many there did not even see them occur even though they were all watching Master Juris’ outburst.  High Cloud’s claws rent large rips in Kurin’s shoulder padding as he maintained his place and jabbed with his beak at the offending hand.  Kurin’s knife, ten inches of the finest razor honed Lesser Dragon fang, leaped up in her hand and struck Master Juris’ wrist away.  At the same instant, Kurin kicked back out of her chair and landed in a combat guard, watching Master Juris over the edge of her knife.

A shocked group watched as Master Juris cradled his injured hand.  Blood was welling from the back of it where High Cloud had defended himself, striking to bone, and there was another cut to the bone on the side of his wrist where Kurin had entered the fray with her knife.

In quietly dangerous tone, Kurin said, “Don’t attack either of us again. Rookery Flock all defends its own.  That’s why there are no tame Wide Wings.”

The ship’s doctor was tending to Master Juris’ wounds and looked up curiously at Kurin’s statement.  “Rookery Flock?  Do you consider yourself to be a bird?”

That brought a smile to Kurin’s lips, and she relaxed her guard, putting away the big knife in her sash-belt sheath.  “No, Doctor, I’m not a bird.  Still, I am part of the Grandalor Rookery.  I’ve known High Cloud since just before he hatched.  I felt his mind beginning to stir in the egg.  I’ve taken my place and spent time caring for all the young ones and feeding them.  I do have a bond with them all that sometimes overrides my personal safety issues.  Dari has said that we humans who participate in the rookery life and are accepted by the adult Wide Wings are part of the rookery.  Who am I to question a Great Sea Dragon?”

Master Juris looked up from the bandaging of his arm and snarled, “How would you know what a Great Sea Dragon thinks?”

Kurin said offhandedly, “Blind Mecat remains fond of this ship, from her time in human form among us.  She asked me not to file a full violation complaint with the Council.  The message was relayed through Dari, who was nearby. Captain Tanlin and I had a long talk with her.  I like her.  She’s fun.”

Master Juris subsided with a muttered, “Hard aground and sinking fast.”

Alor overheard him and retorted tartly, “At last, you recognize your folly?”  Then, she turned to Kurin and said, “I think that we need to know what the basis of your provisional complaint is.  How hard aground are we?  Is it a sandbar or a reef?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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