#I spent too much money today tbh

[sluttyten]

It was slow at work today right around the time that this round of DoJaeJung teaser photos were released so I caved and preordered

[anachronistictrash]

I could just get in the car and drive three hours to the ocean.

I could just do it, right now.

I think the ocean would cure me.

ughhhhhhhh I want to so bad

[iamgonnagetyouback]

The second one is for Harry. I don’t have a plot for him tbh. Anything works…maybe something like James and lily are still alive and the reader is Sirius’ and Remus’ daughter (if you’re comfortable with that else she’s just Sirius’s daughter) and that her and Harry have feelings for each other but they make sure that their parents don’t know about this because they think they won’t approve but secretly Sirius and James have made a bet even before they were born that they’d end up dating.

Gonna sign off as - 👀

harry potter x black-lupin!reader where you both decide to come clean about your relationship only to realise the bets that were going on before you were even born

The morning started off innocently enough. You and Harry decided, with great trepidation and a little bit of sweaty-palmed hand-holding, that it was time to come clean to your parents. You’d spent months sneaking around, dodging suspicious looks and sharing whispered secrets under that big oak tree in the Potter backyard. But enough was enough. Today was the day.

At breakfast, you sit on one side of the table, gripping Harry’s hand under it like a lifeline. Across from you, James is mid-story, waving his coffee cup wildly, nearly splashing Sirius, who’s cackling in support. Remus stands by the stove flipping pancakes, while Lily is engrossed in her tea. It’s almost too peaceful. Almost.

You exchange a look with Harry, both of you gulping in unison. Here goes nothing.

You clear your throat, trying to sound calm and confident but ending up squeaking, “We have something to tell you.”

Every head swivels toward you. Four pairs of eyes lock on, and it’s like they’ve turned into your jury.

Sirius’s brows lift, eyes flicking to your joined hands, a smirk already forming. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

James takes a leisurely sip of his coffee, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“Uh… well, Harry and I…” You glance at him, wide-eyed. “We’re together. Dating. You know, in a relationship.”

Silence. Deafening, horrible silence. You brace yourself for the absolute chaos about to ensue—a dramatic gasp from Sirius, a whole speech from Remus, something. But instead…

“Oh, finally,” Remus sighs, flipping another pancake like he’s completely unfazed.

“Pay up, Padfoot.” James holds out a hand to Sirius with a smirk that could only mean one thing: they knew.

“Are you—are you betting on us?” Harry sputters, his face turning beet red.

Sirius lets out a long, overly dramatic sigh as he fishes out a handful of Galleons and plunks them into James’s waiting hand. “Yep. And I had my money on last Christmas, but nooo, you two had to make it as painful and drawn-out as possible.”

James shrugs, looking positively delighted. “I told him you two would take forever. I mean, you’re related to Sirius, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Oh, come on!” you snap, indignant. “You didn’t even wait for us to tell you?”

Sirius leans forward, smirking like he’s the world’s wisest sage. “Kid, you were about as subtle as a hippogriff in a teashop. ‘Oh, dad, we’re just going out to ‘study.’’” He air-quotes aggressively. “Or, ‘Oh, daddy, it’s so peaceful under the oak tree.’”

“Do you know how many times I nearly hexed you?” Remus says, shaking his head, clearly unimpressed. “Once or twice would’ve been fine, but the ‘study dates’? Please.”

Harry’s face falls into his hands, groaning. “So you… knew? This entire time?”

James snorts, leaning back with the air of someone who has been utterly vindicated. “Son, I’ve known since you looked at her like she’d personally invented Quidditch.” He raises a smug eyebrow at Lily. “Which, by the way, was second year.”

Lily laughs softly. “Second year, James? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

“Oh, not at all,” James replies with a flirty expression. “I’d know that look anywhere—it’s exactly how I used to look at you.”

You and Harry exchange an exasperated look. “So… none of you are upset?” you ask, bewildered.

Remus grins, nudging you both toward the table. “Not at all. In fact, this is excellent news because now I can finally use your time together as leverage for chores.”

Lily laughs, patting your shoulder with a wink. “Honestly, we were all just waiting to see how long you’d last before one of you cracked.”

Sirius, meanwhile, is dramatically clutching his chest. “I was holding out for the Christmas confession! So many prime opportunities wasted! I could have retired on those winnings!”

“Oh, get over it,” James says with a slap on his back. “We all saw it coming from a kilometer away.”

And as you and Harry sit there, faces hot with embarrassment and disbelief, the rest of them toast to the “official family binding,” clinking glasses and laughing like this is the best entertainment they’ve had in years.

thank you so much for requesting, 👀!! If it is no trouble, could you tell your age and gender?

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

[storges-oranges]

I do think that if you're close to them, Mhin and Vere are the best at figuring out when you're upset or feeling melencholic. But they figure it out differently.

Mhin knows because they are observant and and have a habit of monitoring your behavior and file it away in their mind (and maybe notebooks whos to say really) so they have already identified your nervous/sad ticks before you let out a sigh. They would have ALOT of trouble just... to bring it up to you i think. So they would just... find ways to distract you. By leading you to an alleyway filled with cats and giving you little factoids about cats, plants in Eridia, or anything else. They might try to weave a metaphor in their exposé. Stuff like plants that survive the fogfall by shedding aerial parts and continuing on throughout a cimolex root system of roots and bulbs. And when you inevitably exclaim "like a potato?". They just turn away and chuckle. Before you can revel in this first of its kind achievement, they turn on their heals and invite you to dinner, "since you're so hungry", and they add that a couple of baked potatoes would suffice as payment for the day. You're much more animated as you follow along. Good. Thats how they like you.

Vere figures it out with his keen sense of smell. His way of asking you if you're ok is to remark on the suffocating stench of your misery (not the kind he could put you through. that is to say, the good kind, the only kind, you're his plaything". He also asks if this is your attempt at killing him. He assures you that it wouldn't come close, but he is bothered enough by it to remedy it personally.I think he would try to distract you too. By taking you to see his favorite performers (that luthist really does have talent) or activating your fight or flight instinct. Depends really. If it can be fixed by getting rid of someone, he takes care of it. Brings you their bloody fingers, to offset this uncharacteristic show of empathy. He can't have you going around thinking you'll always be in his good graces you know? If it can be solved with money, he steals it for you. Also brings you fingers, or hands you the coins in a bloody pouch. He fully expects gratitude btw.

Now the rest of the cast also catch on pretty quickly, mind you, i just think these two are the first .

As for Leander, he would also catch on quickly by interacting with you and picking up on subtle clues. If you spent enough time with him you develop a knack for knowing when his mask is thicker than usual. There is just, a glint in his eyes when he speaks about certain things that makes his usual demeanor look... unauthentic. And when you're upset, truly upset, his praticed lines irritate you. You might be tempted to yell at him to leave if he's just going to throw some half hearted words at you, even if those words are tailored to you and your responses.

Tbh i dont think that would ever be enough for him to open up completely, but he might give you a vague, roundabout inch. By, for instance, showing you something and vaguely mentioning that it was crucial in helping him become the man he is today, and that he holds it dear. That its a testament to his resilience, a trait he knows you share.

And while small, and practiced there is a hint of vulnerability there. You know that its the most he could ever give (at least at this point), and it warms your heart. Leander is happy to know that he could help ease your pain a little, but he looks at you and this valuable object and he makes a connection: both you and it have come to him at a time of great need. This connection places yet another green seal on your fate.

[whyse7vn]

BLOOD SISTERS -

[ot7 x reader]

3D?????????

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: i heard vogue paid jungkook in cheese

namjoon: what?

jk: yes

namjoon: WHAT???

jimin: you did a shoot for vogue and got paid in cheese?????

yoongi: is that legal?

tae: are u a rat?

jin: i know a rat…

tae: YOU SHUT UR MOUTH

jk: i like cheese

y/n: put his vouge money in a savings account don’t worry

jimin: you robbed jungkook???

y/n: can you read??

it’s in a savings account

jimin: ur savings account?

y/n: no

jk: i got cheese

y/n: i gave him the cheese

namjoon: jungkook are you ok with her doing that?

jk: yes

i got cheese

y/n: SEE HES OK WITH IT STOP TRYING TO MAKE THE VILLAN HERE!

hobi: why did you do that tho?

y/n: are we forgetting that jungkook literally spent like 500k on a framed picture of the avengers

tae: that picture was cool asf who was the artist?

jk: google

tae: what?

jk: google

tae: oh

y/n: see

yoongi: yikes

jimin: was the cheese good?

jk: yes

i miss it

wish i could have more

🥺

y/n: i am not giving you more cheese

jin: didn’t he say he was lactose intolerant?

jk: i’m so upset rn

hobi: anyway ur vogue pictures were cool

jk: ok

can i have cheese

y/n: say thank you to hobi

jk: thank u to hobi

yoongi: is he high?

y/n: extremely

tae: WITHOUT ME?????

FAKE LOVE FAKE WORLD

jin: playing with my clit rn

y/n: what the actual fuck

namjoon: what possessed you to say that

jk: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

JIN A GIRL???????????????

jin: was that not relatable to you y/n?

don’t you feel comfortable?

y/n: no wtf???

i’m extremely uncomfortable rn

jin: ok kill yourself then

read a weverse comment that said you probably feel so uncomfortable and can’t relate to anyone cuz ur surrounded by men all the time

tried to help you

that is the last nice thing i do for you

jimin: wow i never thought about that

let’s all see how far we can squirt guys come on for y/n ❤️

yoongi: can you stop

jk: i’m gonna win

y/n: u all make me want to throw up

tae: no cuz let’s have a period together #bloodsisters

namjoon: that is not how it works

hobi: i’m bleeding real bad rn >.<

jimin: super slay!!!

yoongi: super slay?

tae: slay my pussy ong

y/n: ENOUGH

tae: i love being a woman

jk: i want to seduce the king

jin: you can’t

i’m not into u at all

jk: ur no king of mine

tae: jungkook can you come over please i’m lonely

jimin: is this how you text your hoes?

tae: no only my bros 🫶🏻🥺

jk: i can’t tae :(

tae: why wtf

jk: too much cheese

tae: ?

jk: i can’t move

yoongi: pretty sure that’s the weed

jin: or maybe he’s shitting himself

cheese does that

not speaking from experience btw

jk: no

y/n: so how is everyone today?

jimin: don’t talk to me

tae: i’m still bleeding

jk: sometimes i imagine i’m a tiny little elf that works in the back of a coal mine just mining away but the coal mine is actually yoongi’s head an i’m inside it mining him new knowledge he can learn and after i mine the knowledge i give it to the other elves and they give it to the brain

hobi: are tiny and little not the same thing you did not need to use both those words

jk: soz

yoongi: why me

leave me alone

namjoon: i could be better tbh y/n

jimin: can we talk about how jungkooks new song

jk: do you like it?

namjoon: it’s not out yet

jk: do you like it?

namjoon: it is not out yet jungkook

jk: is it good?

jin: ur a slut

dare i say whore

jk: don’t dare

y/n: double dare

tae: i double dare you to come to my house

jk: :0

jin: like guys do you understand like jungook is a whore

A WHORE

yoongi: ok

jin: I CANT TAKE IT LIKE YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT IN 3D???

WHAT IN MOTION???

UR SICK UR NOT RIGHT AT ALL

STOP IT

STOP IT NOW

y/n: it’s okay

jin: ITS NOT

jk: who is 3d

tae: the jack harlow feature is crazy tho

yoongi: it’s really not

stop putting white men the world doesn’t care about anymore on your songs

hobi: spilled

jk: i’m not white

do people think i’m white

do they not care for me due to my whiteness

am i white?

??????????

oh my god i’m white

namjoon: you are not white

jk: namjoon said i’m not white

tae: namjoon is your white father

jk: OHMYGOD

jimin: what inspired 3d jungkook?

jk: y/n 🥰💜💗💗🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

y/n: ????????????????????

jimin: LMAOAOSOOOOOOOOOOO

hobi: oh wow

yoongi: what

namjoon: okay!

jin: IM GONNA KILL MYSELF UR SICK

tae: wow i didn’t know you got down like that kookie

#respect

yoongi: did you just say #respect

tae: yeah?

u wish you could right a sex song about my amazing beautiful girl like jungkook did

fucking mad loser bitch

hobi: *write

tae: wait

??

something is not right there

🤨

idk what it is

but i know it’s not right

hobi: maybe it’s because you used rigjt instead of write

tae: maybe

namjoon: ur so fucking stupid it hurts

tae: or maybe not

jk: what is going on

jin: THATS WHAT IM SAYING

YOUVE CHANGED JK YOUVE CHANGED AND I FEAR ITS FOR THE WORST

jk: i was talking about the aliens

idk what ur saying to me right now

y/n: WHY IS IT ABOUT ME??

hobi: clearly he kisses and tells

y/n: THERE IS NOTHING TO TELL

yoongi: clearly there is

wrote a whole song about it

jimin: at least you know you got good pussy!!

tae: me 2!

namjoon: can we not

tae: we can

im in my girl era

feminism in my boobs blood in my vagina

hobi: you take things too far..

tae: ok but it’s natural??

fucking men man i can’t do this y/n are you with me baby

y/n: stop talking for 5 minutes omg

tae: okay!

jk: do the aliens have drivers licenses

jimin: when’s the last time you fucked be honest

namjoon: why are you so invested in her sex life it’s real concerning

jimin: cuz it’s interesting????

like live a little joon jeez

y/n: WE HAVENT FUCKED IN LIKE

yoongi: like?

hobi: like

jin: you turned him into a whore i know it was you

jimin: see mr kim namjoon

interesting

namjoon: ur just starting unwanted issues

jimin: IN LIKE???

come on spit it out we don’t have all day

y/n: i don’t have to answer that

yoongi: shocker

y/n: excuse me??

jimin: YIKESSSSSSSSSSSS

hobi: i can’t look

tae: wait she’s fr fucking jungkook no joke this is fr?

thought this was a joke the whole time

are we all on the same page rn???

jk: i think if we think about it we are the aliens to the aliens so if you think about it do we have drivers licenses?

namjoon: it’s like we run in circles every single day

yoongi: nothing

just know why you’ve been ignoring me for the last month now lol

hobi: he added the lol

wow he’s pissed

jimin: INSANE

jin: YOUVE BEEN FUCKING JUNGKOOK THIS WHOLE MONTH UR NASTY LEAVE HIM ALONE LEAVE HIMMM

namjoon: i’m going to shoot you all

y/n: so it’s clearly not “nothing” yoongi

and in the gc are you fr?

yoongi: whatever

y/n: and i haven’t been ignoring you i’m talking you right now aren’t i?

yoongi: this is different

jimin: he’s basically saying you haven’t been fucking with him for a whole month cuz ur too busy with jungkook

hobi: maybe he’s having withdrawals

namjoon: i think she gets it

tae: can i fuck pls

y/n: ur being really childish rn yoongi

yoongi: that’s crazy cuz that’s how you like your men no?

hobi: WOWWWW

jimin: JUNGKOOK SHADE

jk: hiiiiii 🫶🏻🔥

y/n: and not that i need to tell you but i haven’t slept with ANYONE for like 2 months

i’ve been really busy filming and shit

fucking asshole

yoongi: oh

jin: wait no sex for 2 months that’s kinda insane icl 😭

jimin: YOONGI FUCKED UPPP TEAAA

hobi: pussywhipped 💀

tae: CAN I FUCK PLEASE

namjoon: enough sex talk please

before i grab a gun

tae: what type

ak?

glock?

shotgun???

yoongi: y/n

jk: why are we fighting??????

jin: don’t worry son

jk: papa 🥺

jin: no sorry i can’t actually claim you i’m over you being a whore i just remembered how fucking annoying you are yikes

am i the high one??

wow wtf was i stressing over

yoongi: y/n

jimin: me when i fuck up

hobi: yoongi the sad ant with the stick rn

jimin: HELPJSJDJDJXJ YOU RIGHT

“y/n….”

hobi: HEHEHEHEHE

*single tear rolls down cheek*

jimin: *screen fades to black*

hobi: LMAOOOOOO

jimin: STOPWOWOSOSSK

namjoon: guys

y/n: anyways

jimin: no because i stand with you feminist till i die

hobi: i’m such a feminist i enjoy looking at wonho as much as cows eat grass

and that’s like all the time

right?

jimin: right!!!!

jk: where is my papa

jin: ew

he’s so gross guys

y/n: don’t be mean he’s just under the influence!!

jin: of what? meth?

people high off weed are not freaks like him i’m telling you he does that hardcore shit just like joon

jk: papa joon

namjoon: stop

tae: i stabbed myself with a fork

pain is temporary

i needed it ❤️

namjoon: i need it

jin: ???

yoongi: i’m sorry

y/n: k

jimin: wow this is not awkward at all!

jk: i’m throwing up

jin: this is the 4th time this week

jk: papa

namjoon: how is he still alive

hobi: y/n feminist to feminist rn i say fuck yoongi and like come kiss me

yoongi: can you shut the fuck up

jk: i love you yoongi

yoongi: go away

jimin: can you guys not be boyfriends inlaw or something

yoongi: i’m going to punch you

jimin: ok i am going to stop talking now!

—

bonus:

[forever-once-gone]

Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk 

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.” 

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind? 

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration. 

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway. 

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

[ohblimeygeorge]

So I’m probably gonna get stick for this but something about a lot of the wags being invited for the Charlotte Tilbury f1 Academy event just rubs me the wrong way. Like F1 Academy is meant to be (and doing a good job) at highlighting women in motorsport and Susie’s doing an incredible job at it all, but the wags being invited to an event just for freebies and to ‘promote’ F1 Academy just seems all kinds of wrong.

For one, (and take this as the bitchy comment it is) none of them are these famous influencers they seem to think they are 🤷🏼‍♀️ so they don’t really have the audience to promote anything to bc their audience is basically full of fan girls of the drivers who most likely already know about F1 Academy and what it’s all about. Plus none of them are actually promoting it they’re just posting their pics with their make up and pr goodies and tagging. That’s not really promoting. I’d be more convinced if they had at least videos of them chatting to the drivers, answering questions to prove they’ve actually watched races, etc. Correct me if I’m wrong but I’ve not seen any of them really showing proper support for it beforehand but suddenly they’re all fans lol? Also I find it interesting that there are 2 girlfriends on the grid who are actual female athletes - Lily Muni He and Tiffany Cromwell. But neither of them are involved in the event nor the pic of the wags on the track today, when they are both there too. These 2 are the perfect way to help bring in more female fans/females in motorsports or just sports in general. They have audiences of their own, not just their bf’s fans and actually know how to engage in enticing new people in - they’ve pushed themselves through in their indvidual mainly male dominated sports. I would’ve loved to have seen them interact with the drivers and get involved! (I’m aware it very much could be them deciding not to but when the only 2 athletes aren’t involved and the other wags are.. Mm it looks strange to me). Having just wannabe influencers who are already from very privileged backgrounds be the faces of this latest promotion is just pure stupidity if I’m honest. Not one little girl is gonna look at that and think ‘yeah I’m gonna work really hard and get into motorsports!’ All they’ll see is flashy lifestyles and easy money. And let’s be clear, I’m not here to purely hate on them it’s just so disappointing tbh. The money spent on the pr freebies for the wags could’ve been used to spend it on the current F1 Academy drivers or the up and coming young girls not wannabe influencers who will keep it on their ig stories for 24 hours then never speak of it again bc they’ve got their picture showing their ‘support’ there now. Idk really it all just gives me a massive ick and tbh I might as well just say it bc I’m digging myself a hole here anyway lol but none of these women seem genuine at all.

I just wanna see more real hard work and determination and actual role models for the younger generation of girls not the glitz and glamour this latest wave of wags/F1 in general has brought.

[rindouheart]

Thank you for the rules link!! So I was wondering about headcanons (or whatever you want tbh) about Reo falling for a reader that doesn't even give him the time of the day lol like reader thinks he's a standard rich boy, you know? So they avoid him at first until Reo manages to win them over. Take all the time you need of course, and thank you if you accept my request!! 💕

REO MIKAGE with a s/o that avoids him 🌿

content. fluffy hc about our fav rich boy + g/n reader!

author’s note. hi love! tysm for requesting, i hope you like this mix between hcs and a drabble, i’ve enjoyed writing them + reo is so cute i can’t.

reo mikage is a rich boy. everyone knows it.

also if he’s not that “rich kid” who just flexes around how much money he has, you’ve always been quite suspicious about his behaviour.

obviously, reo is handsome, smart and also good ad football, basic characteristics of any wealthy boy.

your friends always told you that his future is already planned: reo will be the ceo of his family’s business, he will marry someone rich and he will live the life that everyone dreams.

a lot of people in your school crush on him, for real: reo is friendly, slefless and “fun to be around”, as many students say.

honestly, you’ve never spent so much time with him, just the plain small talk when you were forced to. you aren’t really interested in getting on well with him, but still, being polite is always a good thing.

until he started to try to talk to you more frequently.

“omg, i think he might like you!” these are your best friend’s words every time reo gets near you. “you should give him a chance, for real” and then you just shrug it off.

“hey, y/n, i was wondering if we could work together for the chemistry project that was assigned today” reo is always smiling. always.

“i’m sorry, yuri asked me to do it with her just about ten minutes ago” you answer, lying. you aren’t interested in going to his enormous house or in inviting him to your modest apartament.

“oh, sorry for bothering you, i’ll ask someone else then, have a nice day!” he didn’t seem too in the beginning.

“nagi, why are they avoiding me?”

he is determined to get to you, also if you reject him.

reo doesn’t know why he got so interested in you: it was probably because you’re the only one who tries to “escape” from him, and he isn’t able to find an answer.

he is quite stubborn, so if he wants something, he will do everything he can to get it.

he wants to know you. he wants to understand why you’re behaving like that when he’s around. he wants to know stupid stuff about you, like your favourite film or food. he likes you, a lot, but it seems that you don’t like him.

you’ve noticed that, recently, reo has been around you more often than usual.

paired with that, your friends have already created a ship name for you and reo.

why does he want to talk to me so much? shouldn’t he be interested in talking with other high-class students?

it has been three weeks since reo started to be around you more than required, but now you want to know why he’s doing that.

so, when he’s walking behind you, you suddenly turn and ask “reo, why do you keep following me everywhere? it’s quite annoying”

reo’s face says all: he’s astonished. he wasn’t expecting this.

“i’m really sorry, i just wanted to get to know you more”

you blink. why does he want to?

“listen, i know that i might look like the standard rich boy who is nice to everyone just because i want to be appreciated, but i really want to get to know you”

you just stand there, crossing your arms.

“please, give me just one chance. i’d like to try to change your opinion on me” he asks.

“okay, show me”

and then something *clicks*

also if it felt weird at first, reo always offers to carry your gym bag because “it’s heavy, i don’t want you to get tired”

small acts of service that make your heart melt.

he’s not treating you like a deity, he’s just doing what he’s good at besides football, being caring.

“i took an extra water bottle for you at the vending machines, it’s quite hot today, so don’t get dehydrated during lessons”

reo remembers everything about you. you’ve had a test this morning? he’ll ask you how it went and, if you said you might have failed it, he will reassure you.

he cares a lot about your mental and physical health. being an athlete has taught him a lot of things about that.

congrats! you now are the main gossip topic at school.

actually, you begin to appreciate reo more. he’s definitely not the type of person you were expecting.

he’s caring and sweet by nature, not because he’s rich and wants to be loved by everyone.

you now tend to open up with him more, and he’s very happy about that. reo is aware that you trust him much more than your first meetings.

“you know, i’m glad that you accepted to give me a chance”

you smile, “actually, i quite like you to be honest. i thought you were just a mere rich teenager who only thought of himself” you confess “that’s why i used to stay far away from you”

“you just ‘quite like’ me? i don’t believe you” he smiles back and laughs at your words. “however, i’m happy that you’ve changed opinion about me. i was curious to get to know you, but you always escaped in some way”.

“i like you, reo”

“oh, i see… so, would you like to get a coffee in a fancy place after school?” he asks, hoping for your positive answer.

“i’d love that” 🫶🏻

@rindouheart ‘s headcanons — 01122023

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 4/18

What am I feeling today?

A little overwhelmed and frustrated. I’m having a hard time balancing my spiritual life as well as other aspects (school, work, practice, etc.). I want to exceed in all but I just have no motivation to keep going

The Prideful Soul’s Guide to Humility

Pride is so wasteful. So much time is wasted because of pride. So much money and energy is wasted because of it. Those of us in the kingdom of God have a divine mission, and we have limited amounts of time, money and energy to carry it out. But how many of these valuable resources are wasted simply because of how stubborn, resistant and prideful we can be.

Think of all the time wasted when disciples could have been using an evening to find someone new to bring to Christ. Instead, those hours were spent trying to get some brother or sister who knew better to let go of their pride and just let God work. There is really no way to estimate how many hours could have been used for fresh impact on a waiting world that were instead spent trying to convince a prideful Christian of something that humility would have grasped in a moment

Pride is a nasty thing. Pride is as wicked as it gets. Pride hurts. Pride wastes. Ultimately, pride kills.

Reflection:

I think my problem is being honest with myself on the reality of it all. I always knew that I was a stubborn person that liked things my way (as I believe most people are) but I never saw myself as prideful. I never thought of it as an issue for me.

Looking through this book, I can see that I am prideful. I take pride in my academics and my looks. Actually I used to be very prideful of how smart I was when I was young but that took a crushing blow when I went on to middle school. Even in high school, I did even worse, getting Cs and Ds and actually wondering if a university would take me or if I’d have to end up going to community college. Even my freshman year of college was brutal and I failed a class. Tbh, I think that helped in knocking down my pride. I’m doing much better in school now by God’s grace because I really don’t know how else I could’ve continued going through nursing school if I didn’t have Him to rely on.

I know I began taking pride in my looks around middle school or early high school because that’s when I finally started getting attention from guys. I thought myself better than so many others and I’d go all out every day, wishing to outshine everyone with pretty outfits and showing off. In hindsight, it was kinda ridiculous but I took pride in it. Freshman year of college also brought me back down again - I had to get rid of more than half my clothes, I broke out terribly - my skin was the worst it’s ever been, I gained close to 30lbs and was the biggest I’d ever been. All of that really ruined my confidence and any pride I had in my looks.

Thinking back now, maybe this was God’s way of humbling me. Take things away I was prideful in as an attempt to break me down to a point where I would be willing to go to Him. Or maybe not, because when I did start studying the Bible was the period in my life where everything had turned around, I felt on top of the world and then I became a disciple and I do have this fear that if I enjoy too much what I have right now, God will just take it all away again.

I should clarify, I’m still prideful in my heart. Because I do still take pride in my looks and academics but I wonder where’s the line? Am I not supposed to be happy of my grades? Should I not feel good that I like the way I look? At what point does it become pride and how do I prevent myself from going there?

Additionally, I need to take it more seriously. I always saw pride as an annoying trait in other people but never really sinful. But after reading how God views it, how do I have that message move from my head to my heart that pride is truly deadly and I need to cut it from my life completely.

[mxxnlightwriting]

Writemas 2024 Day 12

Thanks to @agirlandherquill for hosting this wonderful event! I can't believe we're already halfway through it!

Tari’s Note: It's time for Day 12, and I'm having SO much fun with this challenge and this story. When I started it, I had no idea how all this would work, but somehow, it's working (excuse the continuity errors, I'm literally making up this story as I go. I appreciate you being willing to read it!) I have a masterlist for this challenge if you want to read this story from the beginning!

Prompt(s): "Help me, if you want to do anything else for me, you can help." (I changed this one a lot tbh but the foundation is there) and the hesitation of touch. Synopsis: Rae is working at the woodshop when Emily visits her, and the two share a sweet moment Genre/age group: adult contemporary sapphic romance Word Count: 0.8k

Rae circled the large dining room table she was about to restore. This was one of her favourite things to do at the woodshop: restorations. Building something from scratch was fun, but improving something that already existed? Even better.

She spent some time studying the table. She noticed whether it wobbled, where the wood had chipped, whether she could keep most of its structure intact or if she had to replace anything. The table was made of oak, so she had to make sure they had some of it in the shop before she dove into this project. She had until the end of the week to get it done, but she was trying to finish this by tomorrow evening.

That way, she could spend the rest of the week helping her brother and Henrietta prepare for the town's holiday party.

A few murmurs around the woodshop caught Rae's attention. She glanced at the back door to find Emily talking with Mr Reynolds, who kept a polite smile on his face as he spoke with Emily in hushed tones. She nodded at him, and when they approached Rae, their focus shifted to her.

"I brought her here because she was looking for you," Mr Reynolds said, pushing back his glasses. "And everyone outside was far too curious for you two to meet up front."

"Is it that bad?" Rae asked, crossing her arms. Mr Reynolds simply shrugged and waved Emily goodbye, leaving the two of them alone in the back of the woodshop.

"So," Emily said, glancing around, "this is where you work. It's charming."

Rae knew she meant it. She kept her hands behind her back, occasionally leaning over different shelves or reading labels from wax and resins, all while resisting the urge to touch them. When she stopped in front of the wall of paint, her eyes widened like a kid at a candy shop.

"I've been working here for the past ten years, give it or take," Rae said, pulling up two stools so she and Emily could sit down. "I like it here. No one bothers me and I get to be creative. Besides, Mr Reynolds is really nice. He taught me everything I know."

Emily sighed and collapsed on the stool next to Rae. "I'm glad you like it here. I think it suits you. Do you still want to grab coffee?"

At the frown on Emily's face, Rae couldn't help but ask, "Was it that bad?"

She let out a nervous laugh before she hid her face with her hands. "It's a lot of money, Rae. Like, a lot. He still needs to go over all the details with my sister, but his estimate is pretty high. There's no way my mom will say no. And the worst part is that he already has buyers interested."

"That was fast," Rae said, unable to filter out her thoughts. "Are you sure your mom will go through with the sale?"

"Pretty much." Emily offered Rae a sad smile. "But let's not think too much about it. I honestly would like to avoid that. Am I bothering you right now? We could grab lunch instead of coffee if you're busy. I saw you admiring that table over there for a long time."

Rae followed Emily's line of sight. "Yeah, I have to restore it. It's my big project for today and tomorrow. Then I'll help Henrietta and Henry with the town holiday party."

"You still do that here?"

"We do." She nudged Emily's shoulder. "Are you thinking of going? It could be fun."

Emily frowned. "I don't know. Most of this town seems to have me on their watchlist and I'm… kind of scared? There are a lot of feelings I need to process. There's the cabin, there's us…"

Us. Rae's heart jumped in her chest. She felt like such an idiot for the way her stomach dipped at that word, but she couldn't help it, either. She liked the sound of that. She liked the idea of Emily and her together.

Rae stood from her stool and walked towards Emily, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. Emily sighed as her hand rested on Rae's arm, her body leaning backwards towards Rae.

"You know, I'm scared too," Rae said so low that only Emily would be able to hear it. "But I'm here to help you process your feelings, you know. Whatever it is that we are, we should probably figure it out together."

Emily looked at Rae with all the fondness in the world spilling from her eyes. "I really want this to work, Rae."

Rae nodded and leaned closer to steal a small kiss from Emily, adding a shy smile to her face. "Well, then let's work together through it. And honestly, if you want this town to not have you on their watchlist, you could offer your help to Henrietta. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

Emily laughed. "I guess I could try. I have nothing else to do right now, so that can't hurt, right?"

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© mxxnlightwriting 2024 All Rights Reserved. Copying, reposting, translating and/or modifications of my work are strictly prohibited.

[kolibri-herz]

I think Radio Silence touched me (or my inner teens) for a variety of reasons.

First of all, Aled and his innate desire to be heard while simultaneously not being able to actually express himself in the real world. I spent so much of my youth being silent and screaming into the void on here. Tbh, I still do it too much. "Sometimes I think if nobody would talk to me I would never speak again" I used to think this so much when I first started living on my own. And then of course Carol Last. My mom was never as abusive as her, more neglectful, but the difference between her public and real personality and Aled's desperation bc "she seems fine", I felt that to my core.

And then Frances. Even today, at 27, there are parts of me that are convinced people won't accept and love the real me, that hide behind plain clothes and hidden interests. I don't have many friends, which makes my existing friendships even more precious. And of course I always love seeing aro and ace characters in books and Aled's and Frances' friendship feels very queerplatonic.

And a lot of smaller things too. Having a career, like Carys, that my father doesn't really think is useful or brings in enough money. Daniel's fear of being kissed only out of pity.

This book touched so many teenage insecurities of mine, it reminded me of being queer and mentally ill on 2012 tumblr. I wish I would have been able to read it back then.

[karatekels]

KK3 Terry please!! :))

Original Prompt: (by anonymous)

In just about every [KK3] TerryxReader fic/hc I’ve read, I always feel that deep down he doesn’t actually care about the reader (which I figure would be cannon tbh) Anyway, could you please do anything pertaining a Terry that is genuinely in love with us to heal my heart pls 😫🤚

---

Here you go! It’s full of cliches, but I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy!

---

Deluge

---

You look at the clock again, but only four minutes have passed since the last time you checked the time. Today had been crawling along impossibly slowly at work, and you were frustrated and exhausted. It’s Valentine’s Day, and it’s the first one in awhile where you’ve actually in a relationship with someone. You and Terry had been together for a few months now, and this would be the first real celebration of the two of you as a couple. He was also busy with work today, but that was fine; he tended to spoil you at every opportunity, so you both had happily agreed on having a nice dinner at his home after work and keeping things simple.

Good thing, too, you think to yourself. You were exhausted. You had tossed a nice outfit in your car this morning on your way to work, and hoped that Terry would be amenable to you having a quick shower and change before dinner. You still wanted there to be something special about tonight; you two hadn’t really had time for anything more than a casual meal since New Year’s Eve.

You had told Terry that you loved him that night, and while you knew he hadn’t been ready to say it back, you hadn’t let that stop you. Terry had been through so much in his life, and he had so few reliable people that had stood by him, cared for him. You really only knew about Johnny, and even that relationship was built on the horrific traumas of war. Of course it would be difficult for him to open up enough to care for you that deeply, especially as you had only been together for a few months. But you hadn’t been able to hold it in anymore; you knew the depth of your feelings for him, and part of you hoped that by telling him, he would be able to open up a bit more. Were you taking a risk with your own heart? Sure, but it was worth it. He was worth it.

Bringing yourself out of your musings, you check the clock to see that it’s now past 5. You could finally pack up and go home! As you pack up for the day, you look out the window and see that the torrential rain – very uncommon for California, even in February – that had started around mid-morning was still persisting, the sky a dark and gloomy grey. Perhaps you and Terry would have a romantic night snuggled by the fire? Smiling at the thought, you run to your car to avoid getting too wet, trying to focus on getting to your love.

---

You really hated driving in the rain, but you were almost there, just approaching the turn off the highway to Terry’s neighbourhood of opulent estates. You needed to push past your fatigue and stress before he saw you; he could read your face like a book. He had spent months trying to convince you to let him hire a driver for you, or even just to pick you up on occasion, but you had put your foot down. You know that Terry had meant well, but you needed to maintain your independence, and relying on somebody else and their money that much would have made you go mad.

Chuckling at the memory of the last time he had tried to persuade you – ending in a bit of a tantrum on his part that you had found both adorable and hilarious, you take the next exit.

BANG!

Something in the car makes a horrible noise, and you feel the car shudder underneath you. Panicking, you manage to pull over to the shoulder before the car completely stops moving, smoke emitting from under the hood.

Terry was never going to let you drive yourself again.

Groaning, you throw your hazards on and try to keep calm. Surely someone would drive by and give you a hand, right?

Two hours later, you admit to yourself that you had, in fact, been wrong. So many cars had passed you without even pausing that you had long stopped getting excited at the sight of approaching headlights. After the first hour or so, you had forced yourself out of the vehicle and popped the hood, wondering if somehow, miraculously, you could figure out what was wrong despite your complete lack of mechanical skills. Or, at the very least, maybe someone would see you and take pity on a young woman stranded on the highway in the rain. All that that had accomplished was getting you completely drenched, your tears of frustration mixing in with the rain running down your face. You were shivering, upset, and scared. It was almost completely dark now, and you were out of ideas.

It takes you a minute to realize that the latest pair of headlights to drive past hasn’t turned the corner yet and that the glow of red taillights was behind you; had someone finally stopped for you?

Turning, you’re briefly blinded by the lights coming from the other car, but as your eyes adjust you see an unmistakable silhouette step into the light, walking towards you. Terry.

Letting out a cry of relief that can barely be heard over the rain, you sprint at him as he comes towards you, scooping you up into his arms, burying one hand in your hair to press you closer into him. You feel yourself leeching off his heat immediately, teeth chattering, and hope he doesn’t mind.

He finally sets you down on the ground, holding your face in his large hands, trying to brush your tears away with his thumbs.

“Oh G-God, Terry! I can’t believe it’s you,” you sob, as he checks you over for injuries. “How did you find me?”

“When you didn’t show up I started getting worried. I called your work, but they said you’d left, I called your house, but got the machine. I drove to your place, but your car wasn’t there, so I just started driving around. I’ve got people looking for you everywhere, baby.”

He can’t seem to keep his eyes off your face, his blue eyes shining with a light you’ve never seen before, his expression stricken.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, hiccupping as your tears constrict your breathing. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, but seeing him in this kind of panic makes your heart ache.

“Baby girl, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m so sorry that I took so long to find you. But now I’ve got you, Y/N, I promise. I love you, baby.”

Your body seems to stop functioning for a moment. You don’t feel the rain, or the cold; all that you’re aware of is the sound of your heart beating, loud and steady, and his words echoing in your head over and over. For him to say those words was such a huge step, not just for your relationship but for himself, and it meant more to you than anything.

Launching yourself at him, a smile of pure joy on your face, you leap into his arms, wrapping yourself around him and kissing him, pouring as much passion and happiness and love into the kiss as you could, and to feel him return it completely uninhibited was indescribable. Kissing Terry before had always been pure magic, but now every touch of his lips against yours sang with sincerity, devotion, adoration. You completely lose yourself to the kiss until Terry eventually lowers you to the ground, having carried you over to his car at some point. The smile he gives you is utterly breathtaking, but concern flashes over his features as he takes in your shaking.

“Oh doll, what am I thinking? You’re completely drenched; you must be freezing. Get in the car, I’ll go grab your stuff.”

In true gentlemanly Terry fashion, he opens your car door for you, settling you in before reaching across and turning the keys in the ignition, setting the heat to full blast before closing the door and running over to your vehicle. He returns a minute later, tossing your stuff into the backseat before hopping into the front and driving off for his house.

You’re exhausted now, your whole body trembling slightly, but you feel relatively relaxed, knowing that you’re safe with him. You feel Terry reach over and brush your wet hair out of your face, stroking your cheek with a warm hand, and nuzzle into it, fighting to keep your eyes open just to look at him.

“I know you’re cold, baby, we’re almost there. You’re gonna be fine,” he says soothingly, glancing over at you. You see his grip on the steering wheel tighten, the only sign of his stress that you can make out.

“I know, Terry,” you breathe, smiling sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed again against your will. “I’m with you.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel the purr of the engine get louder as he rushes to get you home. He drives right up to the front door, throwing the car in park and running to your side of the car, lifting you up in his arms once more and carrying you bridal style.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with me – I can walk!” you protest weakly, snuggling into his chest despite yourself. He shushes you, and you don’t push him on the matter, content to close your eyes and take comfort in his arms around you. Nothing could hurt you now.

The front door is open and Terry strides into the foyer with you, barking out orders in a calm but intense voice.

“Milos, her car is just off the highway on the shoulder of the exit at the bottom of the hill. Get someone to find it, retrieve it, and bring it back here, repaired by the morning. Contact the head of security and get him to call off the search; send them all home.”

Milos’s only response is the sound of his shoes on the marble floor as he walks briskly away from you two. You hear the sounds of other members of the staff gathered around, not speaking but clearly curious and concerned, and decide to feign sleep rather than face them, humiliated at the idea of everyone staring at you while you looked like a drowned rat.

“Margaret, you are to call into her work and tell them that she needs the week off; I don’t care what you have to offer, just make it happen. And find her some clothes, please, anything that can be ordered to get here tomorrow. Do you still have the measurements for her dress from New Year’s Eve?”

“Yes, Mr. Silver,” the woman replies, quick and to the point as always. You’ve always adored Margaret; her unwavering loyalty for the man you loved meant a lot to you, and you knew that she had become sort of a surrogate mother to Terry in some ways over time, though you suspected neither would ever admit to it. You’re pretty sure you only hear hers and Terry’s footsteps moving through the hall now, and you’re grateful for it.

“Good, I trust you’ll take care of it. Get the chef to make some soup; tell him to throw in anything and everything that can help fight off an illness; she’s been out in the rain for hours. And find me the number of the best doctor in the city to have on standby, just in case.”

“Yes, Mr. Silver. Is there anything else that either of you need?”

“Tell everyone to get out as soon as possible. Everyone stays out for the next few days unless I specifically request them. That includes you, Margaret. You’re going on vacation; anywhere you wish. Take your sister, put it on the company card, I don’t care.”

“Yes, Mr. Silver, I’ll take care of all this right away.”

“I know you will, Margaret. Thank you,” he says sincerely. He uses that tone for so few people in his life, and you never get tired of hearing it.

You hear the older woman’s heels clacking away down the hall, and feel Terry press you closer to him as he moves more quickly in his haste to get you upstairs.

“Try to stay awake for me, love, just a little longer,” he says, kicking open the door to his bedroom and walking right into the ensuite bathroom with you. Your heart skips a beat at his new pet name for you; you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing him say that word.

He sets you on your feet and starts undressing you, and you move to help the best you can, but your body is largely numb from the cold. He pulls your shirt over your head and peels your pants off of you, leaving you in your underwear to go start the shower, and you’re still struggling to remove your bra when he returns, now completely naked himself. He pulls you close, and you feel his muscles tighten briefly as your cold, wet hair makes contact with his warm skin, but he makes no complaint, taking the rest of your clothes off and guiding you into the shower.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you briefly as you step into the jet of hot water. It scorches you at first, and you make a whimpering noise, pressing close to him, but you quickly adjust to the new temperature, feeling your body relax and thaw under the spray.

Terry gathers your hair up, getting it off your neck and wet before grabbing your favourite bottle of shampoo. He massages it into your scalp, taking all of your tension away, and you moan at the feeling. Of course he would be good at this too.

You smile up at him as he rinses your hair, pausing to appreciate how wonderful it looks down, the dark curls brushing his shoulders, and looks down at you, pausing to give you a quick kiss on the lips. He continues washing you, lathering your body with soap, the water and his hands working to relax your muscles and wash away all traces of the evening until you’re putty in his hands.

Feeling more in control of your limbs, you turn on the spot to face him, wrapping your arms snugly around his waist, kissing his chest right over where his heart is. He looks down at you, smiling softly, his hands running up and down your body slowly, almost absentmindedly. This moment isn’t sexual; it’s a moment of pure intimacy between you both.

“You seem to be feeling better, smiling like that,” he says, cupping the side of your cheek fondly.

“You love me,” is all you say in response, your awe evident in your tone as you nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content. You feel his chest rumble, and he turns the water off.

“I do, Y/N. I really do.”

His eyes are shining with that new light again, making you feel tingly all over, and reaches outside of the shower stall to grab a big, fluffy towel and wrap it around you. All bundled up, he tugs you to him, tilting your face up to kiss him. You hum happily against his lips, and he gives your bottom lip a playful nibble as he breaks the kiss.

“I love you too, Terry.”

You pull him back down, trying to initiate a kiss, but interrupt yourself with a yawn. Not now! Terry chuckles, pulling away from you, and you let out a noise of protest as you try to keep him in place.

“Come on, my Sleeping Beauty,” he cajoles, tugging you out of the shower. He wraps a towel around his waist, to your slight disappointment, then helps you towel dry your hair. He disappears into the bedroom briefly, returning in nothing but a pair of briefs by the time you’ve finished drying off, and holds out a shirt of his for you to put on.

You don’t take it, too focused on below his waist, staring at him with hooded eyes. He smirks slightly, shaking his head.

“Don’t even think about it, doll. You’re practically dead on your feet! It’s straight to bed with you,” he says sternly, forcing the shirt over your head despite your reluctance.

“But I want you,” you whine, sounding like the brat you were definitely starting to become. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Isn’t it traditionally the man that tries to seduce his partner into bed with lines like that?” he jokes, trying to deter you.

“Terry!”

“Sleep first, love, I don’t want you getting sick. We’ll have time for Valentine’s later.”

“You promise?” you ask, fighting back another yawn. He helps you to the bed, trying not to laugh.

“I promise, Y/N. We’ve got all the time in the world,” he says sincerely, tucking you under the covers.

“Mkay,” you murmur sleepily, your eyes already falling shut. You feel him move away from the bed, and reach out blindly for him. “Wait, stay!”

“I was going to go see about your soup.”

“No soup!” you grumble. “You, please.”

You hear him sigh from across the room, and feel the weight of the bed shift after a moment. Smiling victoriously, you let him pull you against him, twining your legs around one of his and nestling into him, kissing his chest.

“You’re planning on getting your way a lot with me now, aren’t you?” he asks in mock exasperation, but kisses your forehead affectionately, and you feel him smile. You hum in assent, your body relaxing against his, feeling very drowsy.

“It’ll go both ways, I promise,” you mumble fondly.

“Sleep now, sweetheart. I’ll be right here,” he whispers against your hair, rubbing you soothingly until you drift off in his arms.

---

Hope you all liked this! I do have a Part 2 in my head (featuring smut, duh) if people are interested, but I thought I’d just do a sweet one for now!

(Also I don't know what movie the gif is from but it seemed fitting for wet from the shower Terry)

[diah-the-demon]

Ok so posting a christmas shopping hall because why not, i spent over £200 today and i feel like someone apart from the friend i went shopping with needs to see what i got skdksks

First is a bracelet i bought for my mum, its natural freshwater oyster pearls with an amethyst pendant on it, i rlly like this one i think she will like it alot

Next is my mothers gift, a scottish amethyst (they are more pink than regular amethysts) necklace, was originally trying to find her a morganite pendant/necklace since thats her fav stone but that was too rare to find and would prob be too expensive but this was pretty close in colour so it works

I may hate my mother but dont wanna be the only one to get her no gift or a shitty gift man, tho god damn i spent the most money on this one (£88), my bitch ass mother has too high pricey tastes man

And here is some stuff i bought today when looking for stuff (and also visiting my regular stores cus i hadnt been there in a month). there was a new store in the mall i go to and its local independent artists! Alot of them made stickers, jewelery, paintings or plushies and i bought these 3 things from there!!

The black and red pendant stood out so much to me i love it so bad i need to get a chain for it immediately

And then theres the thistle and snowflake necklace which was rlly pretty!!

Also lastly, the lil goober frog

Skrunkled

And i also got these badges from the anime store i go to, THEY FINALLY HAVE HSR MERCH, ITS ONLY THIS SO FAR BUT FINALLY YES, also mitsuri badge becus she is pretty

I would also show off my gift for my sis but the box the jewelery is in cant be opened unless i wanna cut the ribbon so cant take a pic, it was a set of hook earrings with lil bees on them

Im also gonna show off todays fit because it turned out so well and i think i served cunt tbh

Wish i had taken more pics cus you cant see the whole thing but i think this turned out well

Oki ima go sleep now im tired man

[sharoscylla]

Hi! I'm reading Surrounded by Capable and Powerful Friends right now and I just wanted to reach out and say how much I love Ripley Savage? I could be off-base but she feels like an OC who has been loved and cultivated through many years in various fandoms, and I've got one of those of my own that I adore deeply and keep close to my heart. I love how you've built Ripley into this absolutely devastated person who's managed to stumble back up over and over again throughout a ridiculously painful life, and still have something left in her for a smile or some righteous anger in the name of an utterly fluffy cause (see: would do anything to protect/care for kids). I don't usually read fic with OCs who are as complex and multiverse...al? as her because there's generally too much fandom context that I have no bearing for, but the setting you've plopped her into here is actually perfect for solving exactly that problem. As I read this series I feel like one of the BG3 companions - I have no idea who this lady is, but I'm going to find out slowly over the course of my time spent with her, and yet my own lack of knowledge of the places she's come from means I will never fully understand everything about her background and what's made her who she is today. But I can get those glimpses, and feel all the emotions about it, and it's lovely. I'm really glad I gave this series a chance because I have become ridiculously fond of best girl Ripley Savage (god-killer). Thank you so much for writing and publishing your work for all to see!

Oh!!!!! Thank you, that's so sweet!! Gosh, that really makes my day!!

Gosh I'm stomping around happily looking at this!!

I will say, you're right on the money re: her being an OC I've been writing for a hell of a long time, and in a ton of contexts (tbh, even outside of all the stuff I've ever made public with her there's at least a dozen other fics/aus that never got published because I just really, really like putting her in a ton of situations to figure out how she'll take or react to things, haha)

You caught me right as I started the document for the next fic in the series, too. (Well... technically the next fic. I accidentally wrote all of one chronologically-later and the first page or two of a Minthy POV before realizing I don't think it'll flow well to post these bits out of order - I do enjoy bits out of order but only if it feels right lol)

I'm gonna think about this all day!!!

[alexbkrieger13]

I like to learn, so if you don’t mind, could you explain the parties each candidate represents in that picture of the polling you shared please? I saw the other ask about the parties you would vote for, but I really don’t know much about Irish politics. Interested to learn about your parties and how you think the current election will go and what that means for you!

- US Anon with Irish heritage

So yea basically in the simplest way I can explain it in Ireland we have 2 centre right parties fianna fail and fine gael so we have dominated Irish politics since the founding of the State.

TheY basically agreed the same things for the most part and have a very similar voting base the Divide goes back to the formation of the State (FF Wanted full independence straight away FG wanted stop fighting the British and get at least some bit of Ireland independent, leaving the six counties of what we now know as Northern Ireland)

The way our voting system works means you have the chaos for which is currently happening in on of the constituency of Cork where you have the two left parties fighting for the last seatand there within a vote of each other. One of them will get eliminated on the next count. Weirdly this happens a lot

Are voting system is an impatient person's worst nightmare but I think it is actually fair

Roughs someup about our parties/what I think of them

fianna fail (ff): centre right, destroyed our economy in 2008, on track to be the biggest party in the country, historically would have been more of a working/middle class vote.

fine gael (FG): have been in power for the last 14 years, also centre right (more economically conservative), the real cool girl give us nothing energy, there base is older voters. May have spent over 100,000 on a printer. The leader cannot take criticism he is annoying af.

Sinn Fein (SF): center left. Historically was the political face of the IRA, fairly progressive but have lost a lot of class votes this election due to their stance on immigration being seen as too Pro migrant. More popular with young people than older people due to the IRA ties, also very popular further north.

Social Democrats (SD): left. Their leader literally gave birth on polling day. They take a lot of inspirations from Scandinavian ideas. Very popular with young people and more urban areas. Very similar ideas to the Labor Party. Very big on providing more housing and better health and disability services. Very similar stances with the Labour Party though they tell everyone they're very different. their on the up, last 2 elections been gaining more and more seats.

Independences (I): they are strange bunch. They run independently have a parity so you have people from the right of right and then you have people on the left. Tend to be from more rural constituencies.

My opinion on the election are pretty mixed tbh. It's pretty much probably going to be FF/FG back in power which as a young person in Ireland is not really great. A lot of their policies are in favour of corporations and older people. They do not offer anything realistic for a young person in Ireland today. There's not much investing in the future, every year we getsmall bonuses in money instead of actual investment in services. Pretty much every public service in Ireland has been underfunded for almost two decades and we have 16 billion set aside for 'a rainy day'.

Majority of Young people will never be able to afford a home, rent are insane (there are dozens of TDs (member of Parliament) who are landlords and vote down any legislation that protects renters), there's thousands of people homeless, the health service is on its knees (like for as long as I can remember there are daily updates of how many people I waiting on trolleys in emergency rooms announced every hour on the radio in the news updates), our transport links are in shit (they've been saying since the year 2000 that they're going to build an underground in Dublin. Has that happened? Nope), thousands of young people have to leave for any real quality of life, there's hundreds of children out of school because there's not enough places in special needs classes for special schools for kids with special needs.

with FF/FG for a young person in Ireland it feels like there's no political will for them to do anything to improve the country because they know they have a bank of voters that they can easily get re-elected from (older people who own their home).