lay all your love on me

margot mooney. 30 years old, co-owner of little green brewery, portland girl living in roswell, nm in lunar crescent.

[greatcometcas]

CLARK BACKO as GINNY in I WANT YOU BACK

[jellymonstergrrrl]

Letterkenny: S10E06 - Sundays are for Picking Stones

[margothq]

miaseong​:

Margot’s sudden burst of glee was infectious to the Cuban, smiling from ear to ear at the image of tiny sweaters on raccoons, and she gestured between the two as if they were on the same wavelength with a flash of her eyebrows, “You might be in luck.” No pictures of forest critters wearing a sweater with the Home Alone reference were on her phone, but she had the next best thing. ( depending ) “I knew this day would come. You see, there’s a reason I became a mom,” she quips, all in jest, but did she have baby pictures of Xavier in a tiny sweater like the one described? Definitely. Almost immediately, Mia’s reservations dropped when the woman took a liking to her idea. “You do?” There was something about the way the brewer did so that drew her in. “You can’t go wrong with the classics,” hums the flight attendant with a little twinkle in her eye. That’s what people said, and she fully believed it. “If you need a spare hand to decorate, I’d be happy to help.”

Margot wore her immediate interest clear as day on her face, but she couldn’t have been prepared for the overwhelming cuteness of the picture of Mia’s little guy. “Stop it!” she said, pouting in a way that said she couldn’t hold it together. “Don’t tell my sister, but I think that’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen,” she said, looking from Mia’s phone to the woman herself. “Now that I think of it, “Christmas Wrapping” by the Waitresses probably doesn’t give people the holiday cheer that it gives me. A little Ella Fitzgerald Christmas, though? Now that’s chestnuts roasting on an open fire,” she mused, reaching up and taking down a few of the more over-the-top decorations. “I could definitely use a hand, you’re a godsend. I can pay you in beer and burgers, if you’re interested,” she offered, tone aiming for tempting.

[margothq]

sebsebortiz​:

“You know I didn’t mean right now, right?” was Seb’s lazy response, laugh escaping. “There is coffee here… that’s about it, but there is coffee.” He knew it wasn’t great, the lack of food in his place, but he usually ate at work or at friend’s houses. He hated grocery shopping more than words could actually say. He still expected her to make him buy churros, though, that wasn’t going to change once they left his apartment. “Abandoning you in the desert? As if I would.” He might. “You know I’m not like that.” A moment later, he shifted to get out of bed, grabbing his boxers and a t-shirt and pulling them on.

Margot rolled her eyes, not an ounce of real annoyance to be seen. “This is an official standing demand for churros,” she informed him, lips still curled up in her signature smile. “Churros and coffee actually sounds amazing. I’m editing my demands,” she joked before she followed suit and pulled on the clothes she’d been wearing the night before. Not that she’d been very shameful of her exploits before she’d started things up with Seb, but having a friend like him meant she never had to worry about that, which was empowering on its own. “Hey, you never know these days,” she joked as she pulled on her jeans. “I went on a Tinder date a couple of months ago that absolutely left me in Frazier Woods.” She hopped up, already showing signs of her usual pep. “That’s what I like about you, Ortiz. You’d never leave a girl hangin’ like that.”

[margothq]

ki-jung​:

There are very few people here in Roswell that Ki-jung would even consider himself close to. Over the last two years, he has spent a lot of time cultivating shallow relationships — as many as possible with as many people as possible — but not very much time at all cultivating relationships that actually matter. Maybe this was always supposed to be temporary. Putting down actual roots here, finding people who he actually wants to keep in his life long term? That isn’t conducive to rebuilding his family, to reverting back to what he has always known, and despite the fact that isn’t an option, there is this still, small part of him that will not let it the fuck go. He doesn’t know how to make it, doesn’t know how to move on from something that comprised the vast majority of his adult life. He is trying. He is trying so hard.

Margot is different. Margot has been different the entire time, even if he has no words to make it make sense out loud. Even if neither of them have the words, or the will, or the ability, or whatever it is that stops them. Whatever it is that keeps them swallowing it back, condensing it, and shoving it into their tiny, locked boxes that they equally refuse to open. Things do not have to be this complicated, but mourning — Key’s mourning — is a complicated thing. A very complicated thing. So is fear.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. I’m okay.” Reassurances tumble from his lips on his low voice, melding together almost with the way his accent wraps around the syllables. It’s heavier when he lets his guard down, when he doesn’t bother to actually focus on his pronunciation the way that he had conditioned himself to do over the years. Strangers in this country seem to think that any sort of ‘foreign’ accent somehow means one is of… lesser intelligence than they are, for some reason — an unfortunate and rather disgusting fact that he was given a crash-course to throughout his adolescence, when he was still adjusting to the language and the societal expectations of a new world.

Slipping inside of her house past her — again, permission isn’t something he questions in this situation; they are so easy around each other, and so naturally share space, like they have their own personal gravity that keeps them both in each other’s orbit — Key rakes a hand up through his hair, leaving it disheveled and looking decidedly messier in the low light. He stays near the door to remove his shoes, not taking more than a step or two inside without getting rid of them. It’s a habit born from his childhood, as he remembers it always being considered an extremely rude thing to wear one’s shoes inside of someone else’s home. He hasn’t lost most stuff. Probably never will. “I’m sorry for just showing up here. I know that you probably have work in the morning, too. But I… I tried to go home, you know. And I just…” Lifting his shoulders, he shrugs somewhat helplessly. Dark eyes rest on Margot’s features, drinking her in, and he sighs out another breath. It’s heavy. Everything is heavy.

“What the fuck are we doing?”

The silence between them messes with Margot’s head. It has been for weeks. It leaves plenty of room for her to imagine Key coming in and telling her that he’s leaving; that he’s moving back home, that Roswell wasn’t his home like it was for her, if only for the sheer fact that he’d met someone who made it feel like home like she had. The relief that had been so apparent when Margot had opened the door and the porchlight had illuminated Ki-jung’s perfectly familiar features is back, stronger than before, as soon as her worst case scenarios are dismissed. During her sigh of soft relief, she almost forgets where she is and how bad things have gotten.

The obliviousness doesn’t last. How could it? Before they’d gone and made a mess of what had otherwise been a remarkably good part of Margot’s life, there’s no way she could’ve seen him all rumpled and not smiled. She would’ve made some stupid joke and fixed his hair, and they would’ve laughed about it. Together. Her hand nearly goes to do it involuntarily, straining against the tension that’s coiling her insides tighter and tighter, but she resists the urge. God, she’s missed him in her home. If he was going to be there at three o’clock in the morning, it should’ve been after a night of drinks and games, kept late by the promise that he could stay the night on the sofa and the knowledge that she would end up falling asleep on the recliner. There was an unspoken pact that she would never leave him alone. She’s starting to think it should’ve been spoken.

Part of her is breaking. Every stumbled explanation from Key crumbles her resolve more and more, and for a moment, there’s a shred of panic in her eyes. Where is the promise she’d beaten into her own thoughts that his friendship was too important to her to chance ruining? Or the promise she’d made to herself that things would get easier with time? Her eyes search his, and search and search and search. But there are only so many answers she can search for without asking the questions she wants answered. Still, she feels paralyzed by the same what ifs that have held her back this long.

In the end, Margot shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t,” she says weakly as she takes a step toward him. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but with every thought, those delicate parts of her are breaking more and more. She’s tired. She’s tired of pretending that this limbo they’re in doesn’t hurt. “But I know I hate not seeing you. I know I miss having you around,” she allows herself to say, finally reaching out and loosely taking his hand. Her eyes lift back to his and as much as she may try, she can’t hide how afraid she is that she’s already ruined things. 

“Do you hate me now?”

[margothq]

ki-jung​:

closed starter ft. @margothq​ ♥

In the beginning, Key didn’t mean for all of this to happen. His night went like a blur of colors, like a hazy reflection of light in the distance that made everything a little bit misty, a little bit uncertain. It isn’t typical that he sets out with a particular reason in mind to forget something these days, like shoveling so much cold dirt over a fire just starting to work itself into a blaze, and none of it works — not any of it, and not at all. 

The inevitable sense of defeat begins to settle over him at about two in the morning when he can no longer stomach the sight of the people surrounding him or of the glass in front of him. While there comes with it a certain modicum of relief that he no longer has to hold out, he is also painfully aware that he will probably regret this when he sobers up completely, and the autopilot of pulling his jacket back on and heading out the door of the bar feels so much like sixteen months ago. It feels so much like two weeks ago, for that matter, when he could still trust himself to show up on Margot’s doorstep and not cross the same familiar boundaries they have been toeing at almost since they met one another. Fuck. Fuck. It’s a bad idea, and he knows it, but somewhere along the line, what is good and what is bad ceases to really matter — ceases to make any of sort of sense, really, if it ever did to begin with.

Hard liquor leaves a bitter taste on the tip of Key’s tongue. Normally he would’ve texted her to leave her place unlocked, that he was going to come, but tonight, he gives her no warning at all. Instead, here he stands, knuckles already sore before he so much as raises them to rap on the door, and he sucks in a deep breath like it might be the last clear one he takes before he makes a decision he can’t retract. Like that decision hadn’t already been made by the both of them weeks ago.

Ki-jung has work in the morning, and it’s nearing 3:00AM now, but that doesn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him, more than likely, as he reaches a hand out and presses her doorbell. It’s almost comically childish the way that he puts his ear to the door afterwards, teetering with his vague tipsiness, and then raises his voice to be heard through the barrier at the familiar creak of Margot’s floorboards announcing her presence. “It’s me. It’s only me.” He doesn’t bother asking to be let in. She probably already knew who it was anyway. They need to talk — or maybe not talk. Key hasn’t gotten all of it figured out yet. 

It’s quiet in the house. It’s been quiet in the house. Where there is usually music blaring from the speakers Margot had once coerced Key into helping her hang, both of them helpless as they read the instructions but doing it together simply because she’d asked, there is silence. Even when she can be bothered to put on a playlist, it feels wrong. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Everything feels wrong now.

The spaces in Margot’s life that Ki-jung had so easily stepped into when they met feel impossibly empty. As much as she tries to ignore it – to tell herself that things will go back to normal if they give each other time and space – and as much as she tries to distract herself with work and other friends and other bodies under hers, every day ends with the same feeling. The lonely, empty feeling of missing someone. The longer the radio silence stretches, the more it interferes with the rest of her life; the more the thoughts of him, undeniably her best friend, creep back into her mind when all she wants is to regain that sense of normalcy.

Like a cruel joke, the only thing that hadn’t felt wrong was having Key around, laughing at her stupid jokes and promising that her ideas weren’t crazy and falling into her bed when she kissed him. All of it, even the parts that had wedged a solid block between them, felt right. And that’s the real problem; the issue Margot has been pushing away since it happened.

“Shit,” she groans when the knock on the door startles her and the drink in her hand sloshes onto the rug. Despite how far into denial she’s made her home, Margot knows what time it is and more embarrassing, she knows who’s at the door. Is it the unlikelihood of anyone else showing up at her doorstep in the middle of the night or the disappoint she would feel if it was anyone else? When the door swings open, it’s a look of relief on her face. “Only you, huh?” she notes, stepping back to let him in. 

Even at nearly thirty, Margot still considers herself young and foolish, but there isn’t anything in the world that could make her stop caring about this man. In her worst case scenario, which she’s deep into now, she’s reminded that he has a son and a family and plenty of things he could lose that might lead him to her doorstep at three o’clock in the morning. “Are you okay? Is... everyone okay?” she asks, the shift to worry clear as day in her furrowed brow and the side of her lip gently worried between her teeth.

[margothq]

bleumhour​:

“rocket raccoon?” if the small gasp that accompanies her words isn’t dramatic enough, then the pout and crossed arms surely brings it altogether. all actions, of course, strictly reserved to the select few, namely those who have long been accustomed to her childish nature. “honestly, there are many things that i can put up with, but to be compared to a raccoon? a raccoon? i might have to assess this friendship.” it’s all said in jest, as arisa shuffles backwards slightly, shoving hands into her pockets and patiently watches margot ease up on the decorations, if only a fraction less than what she would’ve liked. “besides,” she begins, rocking on her heels, “how about if someone takes a photo and uploads it to some horrible facebook group that criticises overdone decorations? how many profiles do you think i can create in one sitting to defend your work? there isn’t enough time in the day for me to drag faceless profiles called karen or john!“ obviously, she’s whining, going off a tangent to justify her preference for “minimal” designs — but the aim is clear: look out for margot as best she can, even if it doesn’t appear as such.

from anyone else, margot might have found the dramatics to be a little much. but from arisa? they were par for the course and she couldn’t be bothered to even begin to hide her amusement. this was what they did, after all. “you’re a sneaky little thief, it’s a justified comparison,” she insisted, looking back with a little glint of mischief behind her eyes. “don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time!” margot stepped back to look at her fine handiwork, pleased until arisa’s hypothetical arose. a look of shock, playful but convincing, took over her features. “first of all, that facebook group sounds like it’s full of grinches, so if they want to come for my storefront, they can deal with max,” she started, raising one bicep and flexing. “and cindy lou who,” she teased, putting up her other arm with a flex. she relaxed into a laugh, grinning from her own cheesiness. “too much, i know. i’m flattered that your first instinct is to make a ton of fake accounts to defend my honor, though. i promise to repay the favor, even if it’s hypothetical.”

[margothq]

sebsebortiz​:

There were very few people that Seb actually let sleep over on a frequent basis, he’d never really been one for anything that went beyond one night, but with Margot things were different —- they were friends first and foremost, after all. His nose wrinkled for a moment at her, and then he laughed. “Yeah, okay, valid point.” Aside from shifts at Nebula or Planet 7 he had to admit he never really had much of a plan either. With his head leaning against the headboard now, he cracked a smile. “No one knows, but I did… for years.” He chuckled. “Looks like you’ll have to drag me to the grocery store one day. But sure, food and coffee. I could definitely manage a hike.”

A buzz on the nightstand by her side interrupted Margot’s train of thought, which was heading straight toward a little bit of light joking at Seb’s expense. No pressure, easy breezy friends with benefits was how Margot operated best. There was plenty of room for teasing and making fun that most of Margot’s relationships had been averse to. Safe to say, she hadn’t had great luck in the romance department in Roswell, but she’d had great luck in the friendship sector. “If I’m dragging you to the grocery store, you’re buying me churros from the shop next to it,” she insisted as she checked her phone, replying to a couple of panicked messages from her brewers before relaxing back and cracking a grin to match Seb’s. “Are you busy today? Do I need to worry about you abandoning me in the desert later?” she joked.

[margothq]

nfldunn​:

a noncommittal grunt escaped gunner’s lips as his shoulders lifted in a half shrug, head cocking to the side just a touch. “real candy canes sounds kinda gross - or like a waste, i don’t know. because you wouldn’t be able to eat them after, would you?” and what’s the point of a candy cane if you can’t eat it? or at least, that’s how he felt about it. “think it looks fine… you shouldn’t ask me about all this. i don’t really…” he trailed off, giving her another small shrug. “i don’t decorate all that much.”

margot schooled her features, not wanting gunner to feel like she was making fun of him if she let herself smile the way that came so naturally. she was good with less-than-cheery, it gave her a chance to shine, but she knew how it could be misconstrued if she let it. “the raccoon certainly thought so,” she said, eyebrows raised. “didn’t let me waste a thing. i guess that’s a blessing in disguise?” she finished hanging the little ornaments she’d found and turned back to him. “next time, i’ll save the asking for something a little more your style. wanna give me your opinion on one of our new beers instead?”

[margothq]

cyrusfm​:

          “when the harry potter movies first came out, i wasn’t really interested in that type of media so i would only pay attention to it when my teenage years were ending. twilight was there for me before that—and i’ve always just liked vampires better. who doesn’t wanna feed off blood and stay hot forever?” cyrus chuckles lightly. “there’s a lot wrong with the movies, and also with the woman who wrote it, but when you put that aside, they’re nice to watch. i just tune out what the characters are sayin’ in some of the scenes, ya know?”

“i can definitely get behind the staying hot forever thing. the blood, maybe not so much, but to each their own,” margot laughed, fully onboard with the hypothetical. she calmed, still smiling softly even as she shrugged. “most everything we enjoyed as kids has a hint of problematic to it, but i still look back fondly. that’s all we can do, right? enjoy it for the nostalgia. i’m still such a sucker for nostalgia. i’m pretty sure i’m the target audience for all of those ‘only 90s kids will remember these foods’ buzzfeed quizzes.”

[margothq]

bellamyfms​:

“roswell isn’t the place for snobby people, in my opinion. moonbeam gardens feels like it’s four states over rather than just a few blocks down the road, y’know?” bellamy had grown up with her dad supporting them on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis, and whenever someone turned their nose up at her, there was a nagging irritation that she just couldn’t quite shake. “oh you know i’m always here to help. it’s like the one and only thing i’m good at besides being irritating.” it was obviously a joke, and as she turned to margot with a large grin, bel gave a gentle nod of her head. “i would love nothing more than to be the first to try your new masterpiece. it’s like i’m a guinea pig, but in the best way possible.”

it was hard for margot not to laugh at the difference between moonbeam gardens and the rest of town. she’d met her fair share of people from the neighborhood that were just fine, but after growing up with two struggling business owners for parents, it was clear that wasn’t her style. “i’d take jupiter valley or lunar crescent over the gardens in a second,” she assured her friend, nudging her arm playfully. “after you, m’lady,” she teased as she opened the door back into the brewery. “i need a little guinea piggin’ and a little irritatin’ every day of the week,” she added with a grin, leading them back behind the bar, to where the real business was done. “these are my babies,” she mused, gesturing like she was game show presenting the small batches she’d been working on. “this might be one of my all-time favorites, but everyone here thinks i’m crazy. they just haven’t tried it yet.” she pulled two beers from the tank and handed one off to bel. “it’s tangerine, a little cinnamon, and this insane pepper i found at the farmers market. gives it just a little kick,” she explained before she took a sip, her eyes on bel as she waited a bit anxiously. “if it’s terrible, you have to promise to tell me!”

[margothq]

enderbaptista​:

“ you’d rather ask somebody you trust now . it’ll save you from being heartbroken when a customer insults the business – at least , with me , it’s coming from a place of love . “ they were both smart enough to understand that ripping the bandaid off in one sharp tug was better than leaving it , than burying your head in the sand and hiding from reality . sometimes it felt that two great brains were wasted within the dustbowl of roswell , new mexico . “ i think you need a second opinion when it comes to things like this . when you create something you get blind to the flaws . it happens to me all the time , “ especially when it came to piercing placements at work , or when she wrote an essay purely for fun ( crazy , i know ) . that was what friends were for . it would have been illogical for ender not to believe in aliens – perhaps she didn’t believe in the little green men kinds , those that were plastered on the sides of buildings everywhere you turned , but thinking they were the only sentient beings in the universe was pure insanity . “ that’s when you know the locals have got you . you’ll be wearing a colander on your head before long – “ words were interrupted as the string was held up , “ that’s PERFECT . i knew we’d get there in the end , “

margot put her finger to her temple, pointing to ender after like their thoughts were linked. “i’d rather have you give it to me straight than some bougie kid from moonbeam gardens telling me my decorations look like a seven year old put them up any day,” she joked, though it was rooted in the truth and she was fairly certain they both knew it. there were parts of the town margot loved with all her heart; parts of it that she’d loved from the moment she arrived in town and made it hard to ever think about leaving. and there were parts about living in roswell that were just like anywhere else; a little less idyllic from where she was standing. “give me another few years here and i’ll be sending christmas cards home to oregon with me in a little tinfoil hat,” she added, smiling even if it was just to herself as she arranged the lights. she stepped onto the stepladder she had handy from her first try at the decor and replaced the decorations without much hassle at all. the reward, taking a step back and feeling like she was being welcomed into the pub rather than inundated with holiday cheer, was more than enough to make it worth it. margot leaned against ender’s shoulder and nodded proudly. “that’s more like it. we’ll have folks running in for a beer in no time. which would be about time, considering how many bottles i have left of the tangerine ale i made for the holidays. are my parents the only ones who still put a little orange in our stockings growing up?”

[margothq]

wesdavis​:

“you sure you’re askin’ the right guy?” weston hummed faintly, eyeing the decorations for a moment before he lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “i don’t do the whole christmas decoration thing. i get my decorating urges out for halloween, then pack them up for next year.” maybe it was because he’d never really found the sentimental appeal in the holidays, other than the festive sexual bonuses, but the only real holiday spirit he got dosed with was when he went home, and even then he did just about everything he could to avoid it. “to be fair, it could also be just passerby grabbing one as they go. you don’t have to blame the wildlife.”

margot quirked an eyebrow with interest at the mention of halloween. “now that, i need to see. i’m such a sucker for halloween, but i was in portland this year and i didn’t get to do decorations this year. that might be why i’m going hard on christmas this time around,” she explained with a shrug. after a second, she eyed wes and the corners of her mouth lifted into a bit of a smirk as she snickered. “is this a confession? was it you with a hankering for my decorations?” she teased, nudging his elbow with her own. “you could’ve just asked, you know. i’ve got free ones inside,” she continued, gesturing with her thumb back to the door. “you want one?”

[margothq]

spruce-in-the-wild​:

Spruce grinned at Margot, shaking his head a little. “I never introduced you to Reynolds before?” They must’ve only taken Rufus to the brewery when they were helping with the designs. “I am the dog owner who brings their dog everywhere,” they noted. “Though Reynolds is very young, I don’t want her to get scared.” They laughed then. “Okay, that might sound fake since she’s such a happy dog.”

“Not Reynolds, it was another sweetheart,” Margot confirmed, trying to remember the sweetie Spruce brought into the brewpub when he came in to work on their designs. But it was clear that Reynolds still had her full attention as she leaned down, rather than fully crouching, and shook the puppy’s paw, still baby-talking her as she praised the pup for being ‘such a good baby girl’. “I’m terrible with names, but I would’ve recognized this precious face. She’d be welcome at the brewery anytime. She seems really well socialized. I... don’t actually know if I’m using that correctly.”

[margothq]

miaseong​:

“It says…” A pause. It did feel a bit too much for a brewery, but she didn’t want to outright say that. Money was already spent, though honesty was asked of her. As experience would have it, being honest with people didn’t always make them happy, but it’s the line she toes. Then, a smile found her lips at the mention of raccoons, reminding her of another conversation she’s had with another. “Well,” she begins, more on the bright side of things, “it gives a new spin on the ‘Merry Christmas, you filthy animal’ line, doesn’t it?” She chuckled, eyes glancing over at Margot briefly before resting back on the display. Now, how to say this nicely and be helpful? “Perhaps it is doing a little too much…When I think of a brewery, I think more…‘chestnuts roasting on an open fire’ than ‘deck the halls’, does that make sense?”

Margot’s eyes positively lit up when she heard the Home Alone reference, an inelegant “ha!” erupting out of her before she could stop. Her hand clapped over her mouth, but she just couldn’t stop herself from laughing at her outburst. “I’m regretting not becoming a wildlife rehabilitation worker, that needs to go on a tiny sweater ASAP,” she joked. With a quirk of her head to the side, she paused for a moment, then smiled softly to the other woman. “I really like that,” she admitted, her voice taking on a dreamy sort of quality. “I think we’ve still got time. I can definitely mess with the playlist. Looks like we’re doing classy Christmas this year.”

[margothq]

sebsebortiz​:

for: @margothq​ location: seb’s place

“So what’s your plan for today?” Seb was barely awake as he asked the question, had only opened his eyes maybe five minutes ago and waited for Margot to stir. Honestly, he assumed she was busy considering the time of year and all, but he had the day off and if there was one thing he loved, it was her company and the mischief they’d get up to. He supposed last nights shenanigans may have been enough though. “And before you ask, I’ve got no food in. If you want breakfast, we’ll have to hit up the Crashdown.”

Margot had never had an easy time sleeping over at anyone’s house but her own as a kid. The number of slumber parties her dad had been forced to pick her up from in the middle of the night was staggering. Maybe it was how much she had grown up, maybe it was experience that made it easy to fall asleep with Seb, but she had her suspicions it was the warmth he radiated more than anything. She turned over and stretched her arms above her head, voice a little raspy when she did answer him. “Plan? I’ve never heard of him,” she joked, taking her time to sit up against the pillows. “How you survive on your own, I’ll never know. We need food and coffee, at the very least. Maybe a hike? You have to finish that story about New Zealand you started. I told you I wasn’t going to forget.”

[margothq]

chibanao​:

Chiba cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you had a local graphic designer in your pocket,” he said. Which was about as honest and rude as he could get, his mother would not be rpoud at all. “It says both, definitely, but it lacks some refinement.” He stook from his seat and watched the candy-cane ornament. “Perhaps it was a sign, Margot, that you really shouldn’t be hanging it up here.” He figured he could be honest, given that he was pretty much a regular here, and that she usually made jokes about him being grumpy - which he actually kind of enjoyed, if only because she seemed to enjoy herself. “Too much.” 

Margot laughed from her chest. “In my pocket? Not exactly. His number’s somewhere in my phone, but he shouldn’t have to deal with my panicked calls about Christmas decorations,” she joked, putting up another candy-cane ornament. “Refinement and finesse have never been my strong suits. Whimsical and playful, that’s more my speed,” she admitted, taking his constructive criticism in stride. It was always almost too easy to take Chiba’s less-than-cheery demeanor in stride; fun, even. “Too much, huh? I’ll have to put it somewhere else,” she agreed, taking the little ornament off of the wreath and pretending to think for a moment before she slipped the hook into one of the buttonholes on Chiba’s shirt. “There, I think that’s much better.”