#i won the seat that i can (and have) buy (bought)

[sunlightfeeling]

I promise not to post about this too much because I really really don’t want to like…shove it people’s faces (at least I would feel like i was even if others dont lol)

but oh my gosh

i think suggesting to my older brother that he could/should tag along on my trip was a really fucking good idea

like not just because it makes me a great and awesome and thoughtful little sister 😇

but because he’s actually gonna hold me to prepping and planning this whole thing 😭😭

[bywons]

⋆ DOUBLE SHOT ESPRESSO — YJW

╰—— “ say you can't sleep? baby, i know, that's that me espresso ” — where jungwon still remembers the way to your heart

🪽 𝖾𝗑-𝖻𝖿! 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g . 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌𝟤𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 1855 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 ! 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ CATALOGUE

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

ib — espresso by sabrina carpenter ♡ for @okwonyo ’s celestial ballet event!

“jay?”, you pause your typing on the desktop, groaning as you massage your temples. “can you grab my usual drink from the cafeteria?”

“double shot espresso”, a mellow voice floats to you from the cubicle to your left, “am i right?”

“yeah, you're righ—”, wait. this doesn't sound like park jongseong. his voice is more serious, and besides you never had to repeat your order for jay. then whose voice is this? it sounds so familiar, so close. almost as if you know the face behind it.

you push your heels against the cold office floor, propelling yourself backward in your swivel chair, rolling away from your cubicle. it's dull, the atmosphere inside the office. the central AC cranked to the coolest setting, contributing to the dim lighting to make you squirm on your seat. outside, the sky is overcast, heavy with the promise of rain.

the wall separating you from the unknown man's cubicle, is now visible. behind it you can only see the outline of his black shirt, sleeves rolled up, fingers pretending to type.

“uhm”, you clear your throat, now just behind him, “you new here?”

“new to the office,” he finally spoke again, this time turning around in his chair, only to give you a heart attack, “but definitely not new to you.”

yang fucking jungwon. this cheeky bastard. you wish you could punch that sly smirk out of his face. the way his arms are crossed together with his head held high, eyes glinting with a mischievous hint while he holds his smirk on his lips.

is he trying to challenge you? but the last time you saw him was 5 months ago, in a desperate cry of getting you back in front of your apartment doorstep, with a bouquet of roses and baby's breath he bought in a rush. you had a hard time shooing him away that night. but then again jungwon is a fishy player, always at the node of your suspicion.

he has you banging your head against the wall, internally of course, yet again after 6 whole months.

jungwon leans back in his chair, head resting back, that teasing smile never leaving. this nonchalant asshole. "new job, same floor. didn't expect to see me, did you?”

“what do you want, jungwon?”, you try to keep your cool, arms crossed with a bored expression.

“ouch!”, he places a hand over his heart, pretending to be in pain— all the while having a smile attached, “jungwon? where's won? wonnie, my love? can we not do that?” what a drama queen.

you furrow your brows, a suspicious look casting over your face, “are you stalking me now?”

jungwon chuckles, sitting up straight in his chair, “stalking? no, i just happened to get a job here. pure coincidence.”

you narrow your eyes, not buying it for a second. “really? pure coincidence?”

“okay, maybe i pulled a few strings,” he admits, raising his hands in mock surrender. “but can you blame me? i missed you.”

“seriously, get out”, you whisper-scoff, loud enough for him to hear and frown. pushing your heels against the floor again, you return to your cubicle.

you cannot believe this man right now, did he actually stalk you enough to know your workplace? is he that desperate? heck, you can't even remember why you broke up with him in the first place. not with that pretty face of his following you to your cubicle, on his own swivel chair. and oh you can already predict his whines and horrific shenanigans to impress you back.

not to say, you do enjoy his company. he's a charming devil, always knowing how to make you laugh even when you don't want to. but you refuse to let him think he can just waltz back into your life without any consequences.

jungwon rolls his chair up beside yours, the wheels squeaking slightly. “ever since we've broken up, i can't sleep y/n. you're there in my dreams.”

you let out a chortle, loud enough to echo back to you, as you turn your head to jungwon— still laughing sarcastically. “i know, that's me, espresso. it's my kinda effect.”

“c’mon babe, let me have a chance to prove myself—”

“...i need to check this paperwork”, you stand up abruptly, collecting the messy papers filled with sticky notes all in a bunch and hurrying to the desk at the corner of the office.

before even putting the paperwork down on the desk, you feel his presence again beside you. he is speed, didn't waste a second of his time right after you broke up to show up at your door with your favourite plush toy he won at the claw machine in 5 minutes paired with his horrible guitar skills. to be very honest, you enjoy jungwon's antics. maybe even love it, he is an incredible person to be around. but he just can't be your hype boy, and you crave hype in your life.

you sigh, rummaging through the paperwork.

“remember our dance nights?”, you gasp at his sudden proximity, his lips nearly grazing the tip of your ears, the strong smell of his perfume ghosting all over. he moved a tad bit closer, the soft outline of his abs pressing gently against your back, “or the karaoke ones? or our late night swimming session? when have i ever bored you out, baby?”, his voice drops to a whisper.

thank god the office was empty, you don't how you would've explained your flustered face. you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, let them fly around, yang jungwon's going to mess up anyway. find some absurd antic of his to give you the ick and then you're gonna shoo him away again.

no more yang jungwon, no more headache, no more drama.

but what is life without a little drama? you've given the poor guy a fair chase of 6 months. he loves to chase hard to get, you love to play hard to get. it's a simple equation really, a match made in heaven. you can't deny the void you felt in your heart all these months when jungwon was away too. you were eager, longing, almost manifesting for his touch, for him to come back in your life.

and the universe listened, so you shouldn't complain now.

“i've been thinking of you, every day, every night”, his voice becoming huskier, now standing just behind. his fingers threaten to close in your waist; he plays with the fabric of your shirt.

“isn't that sweet?”, you reply, unable to move a muscle— you're under his spell, or is he under yours?

“i guess so,” he scoffs, “everything about you is sweet.” his hands finally close in around your waist, chin resting on top of your shoulder.

god, why aren't there any people in this office! it's only giving yang jungwon more courage to pull you closer, until your back pressed against his broad chest. a wave of nostalgia, dangerous for both of yet more for him. he has missed you, your touch, your voice, your daily espresso. god knows how bad he waited for this, again.

feathery lips brushing against the tip of your ears, a shiver down your spine. are you in for it again?

“why now?” you ask, exasperation creeping into your voice. “why after all these months?”

he takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious, arms tightening around you. “because i’ve had time to think. time to realise how much i screwed up and how much i miss you. i know it won’t be easy, but i'm willing to do whatever it takes.”

you shake your head, feeling the weight of his words but unwilling to give in just yet. “jungwon, we broke up for a reason. we both needed space and time to figure things out.”

“i know,” he says softly, turning you around. “and i've used that time to work on myself. i’ve changed, love. let me show you.”

you look into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. but all you see is sincerity and determination. it’s the same look he had when you first fell for him.

a moment of bliss, before jungwon makes it even more euphoric. he pulls you in, in a long awaited kiss, lips desperately in search of the lost taste of espresso in yours. the bitter sweetness that he misses so hard. his hands grasp around your waist and pull you in closer, tongue running past your lips.

a bold move. all of this. a serious kiss with your ex on the first day of your new job? jungwon knows you like this type of bold.

“so..”, you pull away from the kiss, hands resting behind his neck, “...what now?”

“you still taste sweet,” jungwon lets out a breathy laugh, brushing his thumb against your lower lip, “just like i remember, like your double shot espresso.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you and your cheesy lines, won. some things never change.”

“some things shouldn’t,” he retorts, his gaze softening. “like us.”

you open your mouth to respond, but the moment is interrupted by the sound of a familiar melody playing from his phone. jungwon grins, pulling back just enough to fish his phone out of his pocket.

“speaking of espresso,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes, “remember our dance nights?”

before you can protest, he’s already hit play, the catchy beat filling the otherwise quiet office. he holds out a hand, eyes twinkling with bliss. “may i have this dance?”

you glance around, ensuring the office is still empty, then take his hand with a resigned sigh. “you're impossible, jungwon. impresaing with dance steps now?”

he pulls you close, swaying to the music. “impossible to resist, you mean.”

you laugh despite yourself, letting him twirl you around the small space. jungwon’s dance moves are as ridiculous yet fabulous as ever, over-exaggerated and comically dramatic, but it’s exactly what you needed. he spins you out and back into his arms, dipping you low as the chorus hits.

“you always did love this song,” you say breathlessly as he pulls you back up.

“because it reminds me of you,” he replies, his expression softening. “strong, bold, unforgettable.”

your heart flutters at his words, and you find yourself leaning into him, the familiar comfort of his presence washing over you. maybe, just maybe, giving him another chance wouldn’t be the worst idea.

as the song ends, jungwon holds you close, his forehead resting against yours once more. “so, what now?”

you smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that you haven’t felt in months. “now, we take it one step at a time.”

“deal,” he agrees, his smile matching yours. “but can we start with that double shot espresso?”

“i'm more of a one shot espresso girl now.”

“one shot, double shot, triple shot, anything to get you back now”, jungwon presses a soft kiss against your lips.

espresso and jungwon will definitely be your favourites in the world, for a long long time.

a/n — omg i had so much fun writing this, i hope i brought out the best meaning of that song through this writing ^^ once again, happy 3k jiah pie,, love ya loads always mwah mwah ><

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

📌 :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! nets. @/k-labels tags! @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha @shinrjj @nishislcve @luvlyhee

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie forgets it’s Valentine’s Day until the literal moment he pulls into the parking lot outside of Steve’s job to pick him up after his shift. The big banner in the window offering their February 14th special offers nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

It was too late now to flip it into reverse and speed to the nearest garage and buy the first box of candy he could find; Steve had spotted him through the window and was already waving at him. Eddie usually arrived a few minutes early but he got caught up staring through the window at the music store downtown. There was an acoustic guitar he was saving up for on display. It would take him almost a year to get there on his current budget, but he was determined. Now that Eddie thought about it, there was definitely some pink ribbon hanging in that window today. He cursed himself again, realising he must’ve seen a million other literal red flags throughout the day that he’d ignored.

“Think, Munson, think….” Eddie grumbled to himself, wringing his hands around the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Steve was walking towards the van now, and the small red gift bag in his hand killed any hope Eddie might have had that he’d forgotten too.

“Happy Valentine’s, Eds,” said Steve brightly as he hopped into the passenger seat, handing over the bag.

Eddie looked into it and found an assortment of a few of his favourite things. A heavy metal magazine, red twizzlers, a pack of smokes, even some new guitar strings. Ah shit, this was perfect. Eddie felt like hell.

“You don’t have the right guitar for those yet though,” Steve pointed out and sure enough, on closer inspection they were nylon acoustic strings and not the steel kind Eddie used for his electric guitar.

“That’s ok it’s not- Wait, yet?” asked Eddie.

Steve looked giddy as he handed over a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale and Eddie gawped at it in silence for almost a full five minutes. Steve bought him the guitar he’s been staring at in the window. The note on the bottom said he could pick it up tomorrow.

“This is for-”

“Sure is”

“-that I’ve wanted for months-”

“Sure have”

“-is this for real?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes Eddie it’s for real,” said Steve with a sigh. “You’ve been talking about that thing in your sleep, figured this might make you shut up about it,”

“I will never shut up about this,” said Eddie, still staring at the receipt.

Another moment passed and Steve very politely and gently cleared his throat. Eddie snapped back to reality. Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie kicked into action. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and threw it at him. He reached down and tugged his shoes off, threw them at Steve too. All the rings on his hands came next, then his belt, and the keys for the van hit Steve squarely in the chest with a light thud.

“Take it,” he mumbled, adding his socks to the growing pile on Steve’s lap. “All of it,”

Steve let out a confused laugh.

“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” he asked, incredulous.

“You can have the trailer too,” said Eddie, fishing candy wrappers from his pockets and deciding if they were Steve worthy. “Wayne will understand,”

Steve laughed properly now.

“What are you talking about, baby?”

“This!” shrieked Eddie, now halfway out of his t-shirt, waving around the receipt for the guitar. “I can’t compete with this! I can’t give you anything like this, so just-” Eddie’s voice got muffled as his shirt got stuck over his head. “-take everything,”

He flung the piece of clothing and Steve’s head and started to unzip his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Steve, shaking with laughter now as he grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Put your clothes back on, this isn’t a competition,”

“You’re only saying that because you won,” said Eddie with narrowed eyes.

Steve began to hand Eddie back all the things that had been hurled at him over the last frantic few minutes.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Steve softly. “Especially not week-old candy wrappers,”

Eddie snatched back his socks.

“I don’t….” He said, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything though…”

Steve chuckled.

“So you can buy me dinner instead,” he told Eddie, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Now hurry up and take the rest of your shit back so you can bring me home,”

Eddie nodded solemnly and took each item back as it was given to him. He slipped his t shirt back over his head and when he looked at Steve for the last of his rings, he was holding Eddie’s favourite skull ring between his fingers. It was the only one that was big enough to fit Steve. A plan formed quickly, so organically that Eddie was shocked it hadn’t occurred to him before right now. It…was perfect honestly. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it before, it just never felt like a good time and… Oh yeah, this was definitely the excuse he needed to just do it

“How ‘bout you keep that one, at least?” suggested Eddie. “Make me feel like I’m not a total failure today,”

“You’re not a failure,” said Steve, rolling his eyes again. “But fine, yes, I’m keeping this one,”

Eddie smiled and held out his hand to take one of Steve’s.

“Well then allow me,” he said, taking the ring. Steve offered up his right hand, and Eddie promptly swatted it away. “Other one,”

Steve’s eyebrow raised higher as he hesitantly gave Eddie his left hand.

“Seriously?” asked Steve, suspicious and amused.

“Unless you’d prefer the right hand?”

“No, no, left works,” said Steve quickly, taking his hand back to wipe off any sweat onto his jeans.

Steve shook out his hand and quickly smoothed down his hair. He plucked a stray starburst wrapper from his shoulder and flicked it to the ground. He settled himself comfortably facing Eddie and placed his left hand in Eddie’s waiting palm.

Eddie slotted the ring onto Steve’s third finger and gave it a little pat once it rested snugly against his knuckle, before bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. A tiny squeak escaped Steve’s mouth.

“How’s that?” asked Eddie with a smile.

“Just what I wanted,” said Steve, looking like he was on cloud nine, and leaning over to kiss him.

[be-missed]

Furniture Shop

Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: You and Tara went to IKEA to buy some suitable furniture for your new apartment to fit in with your fun activities.

Warning/s: Smut. Strap-on. Minors dni!

A/N: So, from the poll, Tara won. So here we go, hope you like it. I'm gonna use a different POV, so please tell me if you like this kind of wordings or the ones that I have been using for better service <3. A short one (?). Please lower your expectations, I feel so dumb.

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

"Try to bend forward" Tara told you as you now check the 3rd show room for the kitchen section.

"I don't know, it's a bit high for me, and I bet you can't reach me by then" you teased Tara with a laugh that made the other girl gasped.

"You just did not say that Y/N." Tara answered with a fake annoyance in her voice "Well I think we can lower it down right?" Tara said while finding a way if the both of you can just cut the excess wood so that it will both fit your height.

"Baby, let's find another island bench, we are just on the third room anyway." You said while patting Tara's head like a defeated puppy, "But I really like the color scheme of this one baby." Tara said.

"Come on now, if we can't find any, then we will buy this one." You said while kissing Tara's forehead which makes her pout but starts to follow you in the next showroom in which where a living room is set.

You sat down on the middle of the sofa and taps the empty seat on your right and said, "Babe, try to sit down." Tara looked at you with curiosity not knowing what you are planning not until you fakely tossed your phone into Tara's feet.

Tara almost went ahead and grab your phone not until you stopped her hand and you slowly bent your knees and spread Tara's thighs. Which surprised Tara, so now she is sitting on the sofa, her leg spread wide, and you between it, kneeling.

"Hmm..." you stated, "This is is a nice height and a perfect angle when I get to blow your strap." Your statement made Tara's blood rush to her face. You stand up and dusted your knees to look more for other things that you can buy. But that was shocking for Tara, because that was the first time you said that you'll gonna blow her with the strap-on ever since you have ever started dating.

"Come on tomato head we've got a lot of furniture to try on." you said while wearing a smile of victory knowing that you made Tara flustered.

But the only thing that was on Tara's head was "We should get home before we make a scene."

---

"FINALLY!" Tara exclaimed as the both of you finished to screw the last part of the side of the kitchen island that the both of you bought from IKEA four days ago. "I was waiting for this moment, finally." Tara then looked at you with a naughty smirk.

"Can we rest for tonight? My arms got so tired from lifting all these woods" you said while you try to find some mercy in Tara's eyes but your girlfriend was so determined on having you tonight.

Tara steps towards your directions slowly and reaches the side of your face with her hand. She caress it that made you sink into her palm and that relaxed your neck that gave her a lot of space for her face to nestle in.

Tara leaves small kisses into the side of your neck until she reaches your ear and bit your lobe, "Sweetheart, you won't be needing you hands for tonight I promise you."

Tara then anchors her free hand to your waist then started to pepper wet kisses into your neck that made you grab the back of Tara's head and slightly pulled her baby hairs when she is leaving a mark on your pulse point.

Slowly, Tara directed you to your new sofa, not getting off of each other. Tara was now standing in front of your sofa while she slowly pushes you down into your knees. You didn't notice your position as you were so drunk and drowned with Tara leaving marks on your neck.

"Did you think I forgot what you said when we bought this sofa?" Tara said with a sly smile on her face while sat down on the same place you told her when you were shopping for furniture.

Now, you were the one with a tomato head, your blood was now rushing to your cheeks which Tara held and said "Hey, relax baby" putting butterfly kisses throughout your face "We don't need to do this if you are not comfortable" and looked at you directly.

But you were Oh so ready for this day, you have been researching on how can you give the best head to your girlfriend with the dildo on but still giving her pleasure. You were just scared because you don't know if you'll give a good head, no, the BEST head that Tara will ever receive throughout her lifespan. That was your goal, to be the best.

You looked at Tara with determined eyes and kissed her lips passionately, "Thank you baby, but I want to do this." You said while Tara gives you an encouragingly nod.

You started to untie the sweat pants that she was wearing that made the strap swing, you were like a teenager who just saw a dick for the first time, which you are, because you have only been with women that do not explore when it comes to sex, so you were only used to fingers, tongues, and a couple of vibrators.

Tara then encouraged you to put the strap on your mouth when she started to gather your hair and made a pony with her hand "Come on, baby show me what that mouth can do."

You started to lick the head and stride your tongue down to the base. Tara looked at you with so much lust in her eyes that made you wet. Tara wants you to go on your own phase and trust her, if it was for her, her strap would be down your throat any second now with how dirty you lick her whole strap.

After quite some time, lubricating the strap, you then tried to fit the head of the strap in your mouth, slowingly lowering your head to almost fit the strap inside your watering mouth. And Tara then was pleased to see you try to swallow it as a whole.

You tried to really swallow Tara's strap bobbing your head up and down for a couple of minutes trying different angles which made Tara twitch from her seat and tighten her hold towards your hair.

You reached for the base with your right hand that made Tara tug your hair which made you let out a whimper "Nuh uh, baby, you'll only be using your lovely mouth. I remember you were using it pretty well snarking at me the other day." And with that you put both of your hands behind your back that made Tara buck her hips into your mouth that gagged you because holy shit, you being so helpless made her more even horny, she was now fucking your mouth and you were also surprised with you ability to just swallow Tara.

She then pulled the strap around your mouth and pulled you into the kitchen.

"Bend over." Tara said using her tone that you know you can't fight with, and that only made you more wet, imagining if Tara can fuck you like a sex toy and pound you hard while you were bent over pleading for a release.

Tara lowered your sleeping shorts and palmed you through your underwear, "Looks like I don't even need to tease you for tonight baby, you are soaking." and bunched your underwear to the side.

Tara snaked her right hand in front of you inserted her hand into your underwear and started to put pressure, starting with slow big circles from your clit to your drenched whole that made you grinding you ass to the strap. It just made you more wet and you started to release soft moans that encouraged Tara, "Beg."

One word, Tara dropped that one word you were wishing to not hear for tonight. You were so shy to beg for Tara when you two have sex, so you just wait until Tara gets soft to you and fuck you senseless, but tonight, you feel that it's gonna be different.

Tara then started to guide the strap with her left hand onto your slit, dragging it along your wet folds, while her right hand started its journey in groping your breast. Tara just made it harder for you.

You let out whimper after whimpers until Tara aligned the strap and started to slowly enter you. That just made you slump your body into the kitchen island and grabbed the edges until your palm hurt. "At last, Tara's gonna fuck me" You thought, but Tara left the entire length of the strap outside and the head was only inside of you.

"Beg, or I would leave you hanging like this and trust me you wouldn't like to sleep all wet and bothered aren't you." Tara whispered to your ear and started small slow circles with your clit and that made you moan.

"Tara..." You said, and Tara started to move her hips, inserting and taking out the head, "Come on, baby.." Tara said, soothing you back. A second pass and you feel Tara pulled the strap out and that made you panic, trapping Tara's hand with your thigh.

"Please" you almost screamed, you looked back at Tara with her eye brows raised, waiting for more words to come out of your mouth, "I need you, so bad... right now." and bit your bottom lip and Tara said "I know you can do more baby" and grasp your ass with her right hand and continuing the circles on your clit that was now going faster.

"Tara please, I can't take it anymore... I need you please baby" you said with and that was the last straw for Tara, "See, that's not hard isn't it" and slowly inserted the strap inside you that made the both of you moaned.

Tara started a slow rhythm, trying to build you up, you felt a sting on your ass and you realised that Tara just spanked you, and you should feel angry, but that just made you so wet that you even moaned.

"Look at you taking me so well, not so shy anymore huh?" Tara taunted you and you just moaned with how the head of the strap be hitting every right place that your own fingers can't.

The slapping of your skin echoed throughout the whole flat and it made you even hornier. Tara slowed down, and said "Be a good girl and fuck yourself" Tara snaked her left hand in front your body and lifted you up holding you up through your neck.

You started to bounce yourself from Tara's strap which Tara really enjoyed seeing you flex your back so much. "Harder, please" you silently whispered where Tara obliged.

Her left hand started to tighten around your throat and her right hand started to move fast around your clit "I know your close, come on baby." Tara encouraged you more.

"Fuck baby... Tara-" You said while you pinch your nipple to apply more pleasure "I'm close baby... please" You pleaded, that came out so smooth in your tongue.

"Fuck... Come Y/N, don't hold back, cum baby" With Tara still thrusting her hips into you, you moaned Tara's name loud enough to let your neighbors know that your girlfriend be fucking you really good. After a few second past, you feel Tara pushed the strap into you and she came with a moan, whispering your name again and again while she slump down your back.

---

"Shit, this apartment is amazing you guys" Sam told the both of you while she explore the cupboards in your kitchen and seeing the different appliances that you also bought.

You were leaning into the kitchen island bent as like your position last night, as you happily look at Sam appreciate your home.

"Yeah, we tried to really follow a color code so that we can have a theme for our home" Tara said entering the kitchen and placed herself behind you until Sam situated her eyes in the both of you.

Sam looked at the both of you disgustingly "Really, you two planned on fucking in the kitchen?" noticing that the kitchen island was so perfect for the both of you.

You and Tara burst out laughing, "What do you mean we plan, we already did" Tara said while sticking her tongue out to tease her sister.

"What the fuck" Sam quickly went out of the kitchen and into the living room, she was so grossed out on how freaky the both of you. Tara saw Sam was about to seat and said "Oh, I won't seat on that spot if you know what I mean."

Sam hurriedly gathered her things "You know what, I won't be coming to your house not until I see you both sanitize your own shit." Sam then went out the door and made Tara laugh.

"Stop teasing your sister babe" you exclaimed and Tara replied "I can't help it, it is true though" and just pulled you in for a kiss.

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A/N: I hope this satisfy your expectations. I tried writing in this kind of POV. Comments and suggestions are appreciated, hope you enjoyed. Not proofread.

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to part five

Part six

Steve sits in the Beemer squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. He can't make himself let go.

He also can't seem to make himself leave.

His mate is in there. His mate who is carrying their pup. Steve's pup.

He can't leave.

It's a good ten minutes of Steve feeling like the world is collapsing in on him before the door swings open, and Wayne comes out, holding two beers. He opens the door and climbs in, sitting in the passenger seat, handing a beer to Steve, who takes it reflexively. He's pretty sure he doesn't actually want it. But Wayne chinks the necks of the bottles together in toast and says, "congratulations."

Steve starts laughing, it's a bit hysterical and it takes a few minutes before he can make himself stop. He does drink the beer.

"He told you?"

Wayne chuckles, "nah, of course he didn't. Clocked the positive test just sitting in the trash, but that boy hasn't thought more than thirty seconds ahead even one time in his life."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while before Steve admits, "I'm so angry with him."

"Think you've a right to that."

"I'm not leaving him."

"Didn't think you would."

They sit together, ten more minutes of silence between them before Steve admits, "I feel like he's stolen it from me...not the pup," Steve elaborates as Wayne raises an eyebrow at him, "the chance to do this properly. The chance to court him, mate him. Have a nice nest ready, a home together...and then pups. I still want it he's just...taken away my chance to do it all properly, I guess."

Wayne hums agreeably.

Steve sighs, "I should go in."

"Reckon." Wayne agrees stoically.

Steve had bought Eddie a spinning wool thing with a handle as a courting gift. Eddie had been so happy with it, something he wanted to organise all his balls of wool into...more square balls. Steve didn't understand it, but Eddie had been so happy he'd spent an hour playing with it and organising his small yarn collection while Steve watched, puffed up and proud his Omega was happy.

Eddie had smelled so much better since his heat, so much more like home and mate...and Steve just figured it was because Eddie was doing better.

Now he knows the real reason he's scenting so appealing; the pup.

Eddie hides deeper in his nest. Whatever that thing was that he lost when his Omega went to ground, well, it's been back since his heat. It's been back ten fold. Eddie had never nested in his life, now? Now if Hawkins held some sort of nesting championships, Eddie would have won it three times this week.

He knew, knew for certain before he bothered to piss on a stick that he'd caught. He knew it was early to show, but his usually almost concave stomach was...not that anymore. He was eating more, some instinct driving him. He was tidying the trailer; sorting things he'd never bothered or cared about before.

So he'd known. Known before those pink lines had appeared on the test.

And Steve. Steve who is courting the hell out of him. Steve who nuzzles him and scents him and brings him home made cookies and pasta and meatballs. Steve who buys him things and holds him close and, even though they haven't done anything more than kiss a little since Eddie's heat, is happy to run gentle hands across Eddie when they nap.

Steve who had innocently investigated that oh so subtle curve to Eddie's stomach. Steve who didn't even question that there was something there until he caught what must have been a horrified, guilty look on Eddie's face. Eddie who had stammered out an apology, like an idiot.

He should have just told him.

He should have come clean, right at the beginning. But Eddie was harbouring a guilty fantasy where he gets to keep his pup and Steve, and he wasn't quite ready to loose it just yet.

He hears the trailer door from where he's buried in his nest. He hears his bedroom door and opens his mouth to tell Wayne to go away, but it's Steve who speaks, "we will be talking about this in the morning."

And then the mattress dips, the blankets shift, and Eddie is pulled into Steve's arms, Steve's hand resting delicately over Eddie's belly button.

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[juliluvhz]

dorky

Tasm!peter Parker x fem!reader

warnings :: Peter being a complete dork, fem reader, swearing, fluff fluff fluff, not proofread 😁

you stood up from the seat at peters desk, opening his door as he walked into his room, with the biggest smile on his face and a bag full of stuff in his hand

“hey Pete! what did you buy?” you asked him, pecking his cheek and sitting down on his bed. He sat next to you, putting the bag in between you both

Peter had been so excited for today because his aunt may promised to take him out to his favourite shop since when he was a kid where he brought all his dorky games from, but you thought it was adorable how he got all giddy when he got a new comic or video game. but anyways, you would’ve went with him if it weren’t for the small babysitting job you had got,so you decided to wait for him at his house

“okay! so first I brought 2 video games. I seen this one advertised and it looked really cool! you know the fighting one i told you about that I seen in the store when me and you last went just so we could look around? that one!”

he exclaims joyfully, waving it in your face to show you it, the name displayed across it in bright red letters

“oh, I do Pete! what other one did ya buy?”

you smiled at him sweetly, he pulled the other game out,showing it you

“this one is for my Nintendo, it’s called Minecraft it’s like a building game, loads of people have been playing it and it was on sale so aunt may brought it”

he explained to me, grabbing his Nintendo and inserting the cartridge before continuing with his little dork haul. I nodded along as he spoke, he looked so happy just to be speaking about the random shit he loves

“okay, anyways aunt may bought me 2 comic books to go with the one she brought me a few weeks ago because I finished my Batman ones and the other one, and they were on sale! There was loads of stuff on sale there”

he rambled on, you nodded along with his words occasionally and Peter was fine with it because he knew you didn’t know much about this kinda stuff so you’d rather just listen to him be happy

“did you get anything else?”

you asked him, he nodded at you and pulled a rubix cube out of the bag as if he didn’t have 20 in his drawer already

“another one? Pete you have millions of those”

you reply to him, chuckling a bit. He rolled his eyes and unboxed it, handing it to you

“scramble it up and see how quick I can solve it”

he said, turning around so he didn’t see what way he turned it. you nodded, working your magic and scrambling it up for a good few minutes

“okay, I’m done turn back around”

you stated, handing him back his rubix cube and turning on your little watch so you could give him

“you ready for me to go?”

he clutched the rubix cube, waiting for your approval to start unscrambling it

“okay, now, Peter!”

you exclaimed, Watchijg peters hands and your watch

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

46 seconds, was all it took til he yelled ‘finished’ and an excited cheer

“how quick as that?”

he asked, hope plastered over his face that he had passed his highest score of 47 seconds to which he accomplished

“46 seconds”

he looked at you with his mouth open, his eyes shining in happiness

“really?! Yes! Dove I beat my high score!”

he yelled as if he had just won the lottery. he picked you up by your waist and swung you around his room and then bringing you into a big hug, kissing you softly and then bringing you I to a big cuddle

“I’m so happyyyyyyy I’ve been tryna beat tjat for ages even if it is only by a second”

⋆

he mumbled into your neck causing you to giggle from his breath ticking your skin

“I’m happy for you pete”

you replied, kissing his cheeks

⋆⭒˚｡⋆⚝⊹₊ ⋆

didn’t know how to end this one teehee

hope it’s okay guys 😞😞

[psychics4unet]

20 Simpsons Psychic Predictions That Came True 🚀

Hey there, fellow Simpsons fans! 🎉 If you’ve been following The Simpsons, you know that this iconic show isn’t just about laughs and donuts (though we love those too). It’s also about some eerily accurate predictions that have left us all scratching our heads. 🤔 How did this cartoon get so many things right about the future? Grab a seat, grab a donut 🍩, and let’s dive into some of the wildest psychic predictions from The Simpsons that actually came true! 🚀

🌟🔮✨ Curious about what the future holds for you? Just like The Simpsons predicted some mind-blowing events, you too can uncover what’s in store for your life. Click the link below for your own personal psychic reading and get insights that might just amaze you:

1. Donald Trump’s Presidency 🇺🇸

Season 11, Episode 17 (“Bart to the Future”)

In this episode from the year 2000, Lisa becomes the president and mentions that they inherited quite a budget crunch from President Trump. Fast forward to 2016, and Donald Trump becomes the 45th president of the United States. What the what?! 😲

2. Smartwatches ⌚

Season 6, Episode 19 (“Lisa’s Wedding”)

During a future vision of Lisa’s wedding, her fiancé uses a watch to make a phone call. This was in 1995, way before smartwatches became a thing in the 2010s. Talk about being ahead of the curve! 📱

3. Disney Buys 20th Century Fox 🏰🦊

Season 10, Episode 5 (“When You Dish Upon a Star”)

In 1998, there’s a scene showing the 20th Century Fox sign with a subtitle “A Division of Walt Disney Co.” In 2019, Disney actually bought 21st Century Fox. Coincidence? I think not! 🎬

4. Video Chatting 💻

Season 6, Episode 19 (“Lisa’s Wedding”)

Again in Lisa’s Wedding, we see video calls being made. This was years before Skype, FaceTime, or Zoom became part of our daily lives. The Simpsons were definitely on to something here! 🖥️

5. The Shard in London 🏙️

Season 6, Episode 19 (“Lisa’s Wedding”)

In the same episode (wow, it’s like a crystal ball!), we see a skyline that includes a skyscraper eerily similar to The Shard, which wasn’t built until 2012. 👀

6. Lady Gaga’s Super Bowl Performance 🎤

Season 23, Episode 22 (“Lisa Goes Gaga”)

In 2012, The Simpsons showed Lady Gaga performing at a concert, suspended in the air. Fast forward to 2017, and Gaga did exactly that at the Super Bowl halftime show. Fly, Gaga, fly! 🎇

7. Nobel Prize Winner 🏅

Season 22, Episode 1 (“Elementary School Musical”)

Milhouse predicted that Bengt Holmström would win the Nobel Prize in Economics. And guess what? Holmström did win it in 2016. Way to go, Milhouse! 📊

8. Ebola Outbreak 🌍

Season 9, Episode 3 (“Lisa’s Sax”)

In this 1997 episode, Marge suggests that Bart read a book titled “Curious George and the Ebola Virus.” Years later, in 2014, there was a significant Ebola outbreak. Chills! 😬

9. Siegfried and Roy Tiger Attack 🐅

Season 5, Episode 10 (“$pringfield (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Legalized Gambling)”)

The show depicted a white tiger attacking entertainers similar to Siegfried and Roy. Tragically, in 2003, Roy was indeed attacked by one of their white tigers during a performance. 😥

10. U.S. Wins Olympic Gold in Curling 🥌

Season 21, Episode 12 (“Boy Meets Curl”)

Homer and Marge compete in curling and win a gold medal. In real life, the U.S. men’s team won the gold medal in curling at the 2018 Winter Olympics. Sweep that, skeptics! 🥇

But wait, there’s more! Let’s keep this prediction train rolling with some honorable mentions that didn’t make the top 10 but are still pretty mind-blowing. 🚂💨

11. Horse Meat Scandal 🐴

Season 5, Episode 19 (“Sweet Seymour Skinner’s Baadasssss Song”)

Lunchlady Doris used “assorted horse parts” in the cafeteria food. In 2013, a scandal erupted in Europe when horse meat was found in various beef products.

12. FIFA Corruption Scandal ⚽

Season 25, Episode 16 (“You Don’t Have to Live Like a Referee”)

The episode features a storyline involving corruption in the World Football Federation. In 2015, several FIFA officials were arrested amid a corruption investigation.

13. Farmville 🚜

Season 9, Episode 12 (“Bart Carny”)

In this 1998 episode, kids are seen excitedly playing a yard work simulator game. Fast forward to the 2000s, and Farmville became a massive hit on Facebook.

14. Faulty Voting Machines 🗳️

Season 20, Episode 4 (“Treehouse of Horror XIX”)

Homer tries to vote for Obama in the 2008 election, but the machine keeps changing his vote to McCain. In 2012, there were real reports of voting machines changing votes.

15. Beats by Dre 🎧

Season 8, Episode 14 (“The Itchy & Scratchy & Poochie Show”)

In a scene from 1997, we see a character wearing what looks like modern-day Beats by Dre headphones, years before they existed.

16. Mutant Tomatoes 🍅

Season 11, Episode 5 (“E-I-E-I-(Annoyed Grunt)”)

Homer grows mutant tomatoes after using nuclear power on his crops. In real life, scientists created genetically modified tomatoes that glow in the dark.

17. NSA Surveillance 🕵️

The Simpsons Movie (2007)

The movie depicted the NSA spying on citizens. In 2013, Edward Snowden revealed that the NSA was indeed conducting mass surveillance on American citizens.

18. Shard Building in London 🏙️

Season 6, Episode 19 (“Lisa’s Wedding”)

We see a tall building in the London skyline that resembles The Shard, which was completed in 2012.

19. Michelangelo’s David Censorship 🗿

Season 2, Episode 9 (“Itchy & Scratchy & Marge”)

The episode shows Springfieldians protesting against Michelangelo’s David being exhibited. In 2016, Russian campaigners did try to cover the statue.

20. Autocorrect Fail 📱

Season 6, Episode 8 (“Lisa on Ice”)

Dolph writes a memo that says “Beat up Martin” which gets autocorrected to “Eat up Martha.” Apple’s iPhone autocorrect has had many such hilarious fails.

It’s wild, right? How does a cartoon get so many things right? Well, it’s probably a mix of clever writing, sharp observation, and maybe a bit of that Springfield magic. ✨

And it's not just us hardcore fans who are intrigued. Thanks to the internet, more and more people are discovering the spooky accuracy of The Simpsons' predictions. Social media platforms are buzzing with theories and speculations. Reddit threads are filled with fans dissecting episodes, and YouTube is packed with videos analyzing every prediction. It's like a virtual treasure hunt where every frame might hold a secret clue to our future! 🔮

Some folks even believe that the writers have a time machine or some sort of psychic ability. While that’s probably a stretch, it’s fun to think about! One thing’s for sure – The Simpsons will keep surprising us with their uncanny knack for predicting the future.

Whether you’re a longtime fan or just curious about the show’s “psychic” tendencies, it’s clear that The Simpsons is more than just a TV show. It’s a pop culture phenomenon that continues to influence and amuse us, while also making us think twice about what might come next. So, next time you’re watching, pay close attention – you might just be getting a sneak peek into the future! 🕵️‍♂️✨

Stay curious, my friends! And remember, the truth is out there… or maybe just in the next episode of The Simpsons. 🌟🚀

[germhammy]

Let the battle begin

Wednesday was not going to assume she had won Enid’s heart and affection. If Ajax wanted to try and woo her, sweep her off her feet, Wednesday was going to do the same

Yoko: are you seriously asking for my help?

Wednesday: you know her style. Sizes. I want to buy her an outfit. A stitched up hand told me Ajax bought her a dress she was eyeing in a shop in Jericho

Walking about the streets of Jericho Yoko spots a perfect dress for Wednesday

Yoko: look at that! Replace the silver chains for gold because reasons and it’s the perfect outfit to slay at the Rav’n! Just need to find a perfect one for Enid. One up Ajax by asking her to the dance.

Wednesday looks at the outfit. Fitted corset top, cropped coat and long tails. She could easily add a black skirt so not to expose so much skin.

Wednesday: do you know the theme?

Yoko: does it matter? You wore black when it was suggested to wear white

A few days later during lunch in the quad Enid is eating lunch with Yoko and Wednesday. Ajax walks up

Ajax: Enid, this is for you

Excited, Enid tore open the rainbow paper wrapped gift Ajax presented her with.

Enid: oh my gosh!! Ajax! It’s the dress I was eyeing the other day!! Thank you! I love it!

Ajax: you can wear it on our date next week

Enid: we have a date?

Ajax: I’m taking you to the steak house in Jericho. I managed to get a reservation

Enid thanked Ajax again and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ajax blushed and smirked at Wednesday. Wednesday stood up and pulled out from underneath her seat a similar wrapped item. Hers was in pink paper with a black ribbon, a black box with a pink lace ribbon and a pink gift bag

Wednesday: These are for you, mi lobita. Please open the wrapped gift first then box then bag

Excitedly Enid tore into the wrapping. It was a large zipper hoodie similar to one of Wednesday’s favorites but pink

Enid: oh wow! We can wear matching hoodies!! Thank you.

The box was next. Enid opened it and found a beautiful pink dress that seemed to be more Wednesday’s style than hers but she loved it

Wednesday: my hope is that you will wear that when you accompany me to the Rav’n this year. And yes before you ask. I have purchased a new dress

Enid smiled and peered into the bag pulling out its contents

Enid: oh! My favorite candies!! - she took out one of the Jelly Bellies and popped it into her mouth

Wednesday as Enid made a disgusted face: careful! Some of those flavors are disgusting at least for you.

Enid: that was soap. At least it wasn’t something really gross! You pick one Wednesday! Everyone pick one!

Everyone picked one.

Yoko: yum! I got lime!

Ajax gagging: ack that was totally grass

Wednesday: well darn. I got peach I was hoping for vomit

Enid and Yoko laughed at Wednesday. Ajax continued his gagging. Yoko pulls out a notebook

Wednesday- 1 Ajax- O

[miraclesabound]

All of This is Temporary

Summary: What should have been Mikey and Reader's special night goes sideways, and unfortunately, it never gets fixed.

Pairing: Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader, pre-relationship

Notes: This idea of Mikey and his friend getting thrown out of some VIP event came to me in a dream (and the music cue as well). A surprise cameo from one of my other favorite characters from a different show, because he showed up in the dream too. Also on AO3.

Warnings: Spoilers for The Bear, canon-typical language, classism, unrequited (?) love, addiction themes, tragic ending (mention of Mikey's suicide)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination, @cinewhore, @phoenixhalliwell, @nolita-fairytale

NOVEMBER 2021

The movie that Mikey won tickets for is at Doc Films , and given the place's history, you and Mikey are almost more dressed for an opera than a movie. He's done out in an old but clean tux, bow tie and cummerbund included - and you bought yourself a silver dress with matching clutch. You may not be a couple, but you take internal satisfaction in knowing how good you two look together right now.

The main thing that's important to you is that, at least from what you can tell, Mikey is fully sober this evening. You know you're not his keeper, but you feel some pride on his behalf - whatever he's strugging with, he's made the effort for you tonight, and that warms your heart.

However, that warmth sours in your stomach when you actually get to the theater. When you and Mikey walk in, it's clear that this is a much smaller event than you thought - and that you and Mikey are WILDLY overdressed. Of the maybe twenty total people there, the only other person dressed formally is a gruff-looking man whose hair is almost as dark as Mikey's is. In his case, he's wearing a strikingly modern all-black suit.

Mikey smiles when he sees the other man and gives him a hearty handshake. "Roy fuckin' Kent! What brings ya this way?"

Roy shrugs, but he accepts Mikey's handshake just the same. "Mikey Berzatto, ya old dog - just takin' some travel time - Coach Lasso fuckin' insisted... And who's this, then?"

Mikey introduces you, explaining that Roy had visited The Beef by accident a few years back during an exhibition tour in the States. "You better come in for a couple sandwiches tomorrow for lunch, ya hear me?" he tells Roy. "Won't take no for an answer!"

"Wouldn't miss it," Roy says. You and Mikey take your seats on Roy's other side.

A woman a few seats away chimes in with: "Oh, you two look so nice - is that your tux?" You don't care for the look of her - she comes across like someone trying to draw Mikey's sister Natalie from a mirror image only.

You want to believe that she's just being nice, but something about her tone is venomous, and Mikey must feel the same way. His response is icy. " 'Course it's mine, why wouldn't it be?"

"You're Michael Berzatto, right?"

"Yeah?"

"My cousins love your shop - I guess I'm just wondering why a sandwich shop owner would need to buy a tux instead of renting one; that's all."

If you didn't know better, you'd think she was trying to call you and Mikey tacky. Apparently Roy feels the same way, because he leans over towards her and says, "Oi, Pam, knock it off, yeah? Movie's startin'."

"Pam..." you think to yourself. "Why does that name sound familiar?" The lights turn off, and you smile to yourself when you hear a familiar musical sting playing for the movie intro.

"Don't call me by my name...all of this is temporary..."

You know this song very well, and you can't help but hum along. To your pleasant surprise, you swear that Roy is humming too. Who knew such a brash guy liked Halsey? Neither of you notice Mikey staring at you like you hung the moon and stars.

Suddenly the lights come up, and that woman who looks like Natalie's evil twin is standing in front of you, a sickening smile on her face. "Miss, you're going to have to leave," she tells you. "This is an exclusive event, and you're causing a disturbance."

Roy, God bless the man, speaks up for you - and thank goodness, because you feel like you're going to vaporize from embarrassment. "Pam, it's nothin', I was humming too."

"You're a VIP, Roy, and she isn't. It's my movie, and if I want her and her ridiculous disco ball of a dress out of here, that's my prerogative." Shit, you realize. This is Pam Stratford, the writer that Mikey enjoys so much. No wonder he was excited to get these tickets...

Mikey pulls you into his side - almost as if he expects Pam to take a swing at you. "Listen, I've always liked your work, but you don't get to talk to my g- - my friend like that - we got our tickets fair and square."

You can see that flash in Mikey's eyes that means either a bender or a fight is coming, and you don't want to see him arrested. Pam seems like the type to call the police in faster than they're needed. Pushing lightly against his chest, you say "Bear, it's ok, I'll just go..."

"Then I'm leavin' too," he says. "Roy, I'll catch ya tomorrow - Pam? You can go fuck yourself for bein' a snobby bitch." The silence is deafening as you two leave the theater, but the outraged look on Pam's face is almost worth it.

You shudder as you step out into the night air, even with Mikey holding you and blasting like a furnace. "It's cold - take me home?"

"Yeah, let's get you back before you freeze."

--

The train ride back to your neighborhood is quiet, and it's not until the two of you are walking up to your stoop that Mikey says, "Pam was wrong - you look gorgeous in that dress, and that's God's honest truth."

You smile at him. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

"Do we...wanna try this again some other time?" he asks, holding your purse for you as you dig out your keys. "Maybe not a movie, but some other excuse to dress up?"

"I'd like that, Bear," you agree. "Let's aim for after Christmas - I know how nutty things get for you during December."

"Then it's a date?" Mikey asks. He doesn't mean to put you on the spot, but if you don't feel the same way he does, he'd rather know now.

Your smile grows even wider. "It's a date - we'll nail down details after New Years." With a sudden burst of bravery, you hug him tight and kiss his cheek. "G'night, my bear."

--

Unfortunately, the holidays madness makes Mikey spiral in a bad way, and he never texts you back about the date. In fact, you don't realize as you turn to open your door that this will be the last time you see him alive.

[rowdyhughesy]

"You know how I feel about you" with Arber please! 🤍

Thank you for requesting🖤

The fight had been well, big. A discussion that got out of hand. A discussion that had been months in the making but swept under the rug like dust time and time again. Tiptoeing around the fact that he was your boyfriend but at the same time he wasn’t.

The strange grey area where neither of you are seeing other people but not having put a label on it. Together but not really together, friends but also more than friends.

It had been a whirlwind of screaming and tugging of hair in personal frustration in the living room of Arbers apartment. It didn’t matter that it was 3am and neighbours were sleeping because all you could see were red.

“The one thing I’m asking Arber is that you actually acknowledge that we aren’t just friends. Either you want me or you don’t. Make your choice.” The fight had ended with you grabbing your bag from the bedroom and a slam of the front door. Not giving him a second to say anything else. It was time for him to think about what he wants and if what he wants even is you at this point.

That had been a week ago. A week of radio silence from both ends. Not even a good luck text on his games or a congrats when they won one of them. No I’m sorry, you guys did your best when they lost. Nothing. And that was killing him.

He missed your arm wrapped around him in the mornings when he had a day off and you could sleep in. Body curled up behind him, chest pressed against his back and soft breathing leaving goosebumps on his neck. It was torture. So he caved.

He didn’t buy any flowers, no candy or stuffed animal because he wanted what he had to say to matter more than a store bought I’m sorry gift. He would buy you as many gift as your heart desires after he makes things right.

Wrapped in blankets on your couch you’re watching some reality show on Netflix, something to ease your mind from its turmoils and fill the silence that came with not having Arber running around the space. Until loud determined knocking on your door breaks the trance you’ve been in for days.

Brows furrowed you stand up from your previous seat, sock clad feet shuffling over the hardwood floor. You don’t even care to look in the peephole before opening your door. Wishing you had done that as you come face to face with Arber.

Staring up at him with a frown he awkwardly scratches his neck before shyly asking if he can come inside. You think about it for a few seconds before stepping aside, opening the door more as if to say go ahead. His hand brushes yours as he walks past. Sending warmth from your fingertips to your bones. Something you’ve missed.

Following after him back to your living room he just stands in the middle of the room. As if this is a new environment he’s never been in before when in reality he’s been in this space more times than you can count. “You know how I feel about you. I just didn’t know how to say it but I do now. I want you. I wanted you a week ago and I’ll want you everyday that’s comes after. I messed up not asking you to be my girlfriend and I know that. So what I’m asking is, do you still want me?”

Blinking away the moisture in your eyes you look up at him. The sad puppy look on his face as he waits for your answer. Waiting for you to do whatever because he’s standing there with his heart on his sleeve giving it to you for real this time.

“I want you too. I choose you and I’ve chosen you since you kissed me for the first time.”

[daitranscripts]

Varric Conversation

I Have a Personal Question

Varric Masterpost

PC: Can I ask you something, Varric?

Varric: You want to talk about me? I’m flattered. Also, inclined toward extravagant lies.

1 - Dialogue options:

General: How do you know Cassandra? [2]

General: Where are you from? [3]

General: What do you do? [4]

General: Tell me about the crossbow. [5]

General: That’s all for now. [6]

2 - General: How do you know Cassandra? PC: How do you and Cassandra know each other? Varric: You heard about the Kirkwall chantry being destroyed? The guy responsible used to be a friend of mine. The Seeker had questions about that, and I had answers.

3 - General: Where are you from? PC: Are you from Ferelden? Orlais? Varric: Free Marches. Born and raised in Kirkwall. And despite whatever you’ve heard, no. Kirkwall’s not that bad.

4 - General: What do you do? PC: I’m not clear on your line of work. You’re a merchant? Varric: I’m a businessman. My family has a seat in the Dwarven Merchants Guild. Merchants buy and sell goods. Businessmen buy and sell stores. In my spare time, I manage a spy network. And occasionally, I write books.

7 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Could you do Leliana’s job? [8]

Investigate: What books do you write? [9]

Investigate: What shops do you own? [10]

[Back to 1]

8 - Investigate: Could you do Leliana’s job? PC: If you’ve run a spy network, why is Leliana our spymaster? Varric: To be honest with you, she’s just a better spymaster. The truly great ones can keep their distance. They don’t get attached to their people. Me? I always wind up babysitting my informants and worrying about their families. We’re in better hands with her.

9 - Investigate: What books do you write? PC: You’re an author? What kind of books have you written? Varric: I’ve tried my hand at a few genres. My crime serials are my most popular. Hard in Hightown. Guards breaking the rules to get things done. The Tale of the Champion is the most famous thing I’ve written. Or infamous, maybe.

Varric (before Guilty Pleasure): I started a romance serial once. Swords & Shields. But to be honest, I don’t have the knack for romances. Varric (after Guilty Pleasure): And, well, you already know about Swords & Shields. To be honest, it’s not a great serial. I don’t have the knack for romances.

Varric: Most of my stories end in tragedy. Probably that says something unfortunate about me personally.

10 - Investigate: What shops do you own? PC: What sort of shops do you own? Varric: Actually, we don’t own shops. That was just an example. Mostly, we invest in money lenders. Auction houses, a few mercenary companies, a couple of smithies. I think we own half a beet plantation in Rivain somewhere. Most of that’s my brother’s doing. Bartrand had business sense. Not much tact, but loads of business sense.

5 - General: Tell me about the crossbow. PC: Where did you get that crossbow? I’ve never seen one like it. Varric: Bianca? She’s one of a kind.

Varric: I won her from Paragon Smith Branka in a game of Wicked Grace. She was such a sore loser. Ran off to the Deep Roads in a huff, and that was the last anyone saw of her.

Varric: Funny story. I bought a salvaged ship and found her locked in a dragonbone-reinforced chest in the hold. I broke three dozen lockpicks and blunted nine saws opening that trunk, but it was worth it.

Varric: I got her off a guy in Darktown. Took me a week to pry his dead fingers off the stock.

Varric: There’s a hidden shop in Kirkwall called the Black Emporium. I found her in a barrel labeled “swag.” The owner sold her to me for a ham sandwich and a pair of yellow ruffled pants.

Dialogue options:

Investigate: Why “Bianca”? [11]

[Back to 1]

12 - Investigate: Why “Bianca”? PC: Who is she named for? Varric: I can’t tell you.

Dialogue options:

Investigate: Why not? [12]

[Back to 1]

12 - Investigate: Why not? PC: And the reason for that is… Varric: Complicated. It’s the one story I’ll never tell. We’ll just have to leave it at that.

6 - General: That’s all for now. PC: Thanks, Varric. Varric: No problem.

[svechnikovvv]

lovestruck

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: profanity, as usual

summary: going to that umich game one night would change your life forever.

a/n: something sweet for the quinn girlies <3 i absolutely adored writing this. BUT CANUCKS WON OT AGAINST SAN JOSE. ROUND OF APPLAUSE EVERYONE

masterlist: here

*f/n means friend name*

i'll never forget the time i first met quinn. the night felt like a scene from the romance books i read.

***

i decided to attend a umich hockey game because i was starting to get tired of reading the same highlighted words over and over. the exam isn’t until another month, so i still have plenty of time to study.

once i was ready, about fifteen minutes pass when my dorm room opens and my roommate f/n walks in.

“i’m so glad you agreed to go to this game with me” she said as she sat down

“yeah, well, figured it was time i get out and do something.

“come on,” she grabs my hand and heads towards the door. “we need to get going now if we want good seats.” i lock the door behind me on our way out and we’re on our way to the rink.

when we arrive, there’s already a good amount of people here.

“looks like everyone and their mom is already here,” she says, causing me to laugh. we get out and head inside.

“wait, don’t you have to buy tickets?”

“i already bought them” i pause and look at her

“you were going to make me go even if i said no, weren’t you?” she nods and i playfully roll my eyes, following her into the stands. she managed to get us two good seats by the penalty box. perks of student discount.

today, michigan was playing boston so this was going to be a good game. we arrived early enough, per f/n's request, to “watch them practice.” but i know she just wants a front row seat to eye candy.

this one guy who kept skating past us locked eyes with me a couple times. from what i could see, he was a nice-looking guy.

“number 43 is totally eye-balling you,” f/n leans in and whispers to me.

“do you know his name?” i ask back and she shakes her head no. for a second, he turns, and i see the name ‘hughes’ across his back. she gasps.

“i do know him! he’s in my stats class. smart as hell, too” she nudges me at the last part and a small smile is on my face.

“well what’s his name?”

“quinn” i nod and continue to watch him skate around gracefully as he shoots a couple of warm up pucks in the net. i check my phone for a brief second and f/n starts hitting my arm excitedly. i give her a puzzled look.

“he’s coming over here,” she whispers and i look up to see that, sure enough, he’s skating in my direction. he comes to a halt in front of the tempered glass and he smiles at me.

“can you catch?” i let out a small laugh, nodding regardless. he tosses a puck over the glass and i catch it. he gives me a wink then skates away. i turn it over and scoff.

“that smooth fucker”

“what?” f/n looks over my shoulder and i show her the puck.

###-###-###

call me (;

-quinn

“he did not!” she whisper shouts and i nod

“you better text him. or call him.” i hold up my hand

“scouts honor,” she rolls her eyes and the stands start to fill up more and more. meaning, the puck is about to drop.

it’s halfway through the first period when quinn scores a goal. his next actions are what get to me. after his little celly he does, he skates by and points at me.

“he just fucking made a goal for you,” she says. “y/n, if you don’t make a move, i fucking will. god damn, what does a girl need to do to get laid around here? apparently nothing.” i laugh at her rambling and the game resumes after quinn's goal.

sometime in the second, one of michigan's players was penalized and sent to the box.

"what the actual hell? boston cross-checked one of our players. but let's just kiss their ass because they're angels and can do no wrong." i say, quite upset with the uncalled penalty. i hear a deep laugh and look to my right and see the player on our team that was sent to the box laughing.

"give them hell"

"if the ref doesn't, i sure will" he laughs again

"i'm will"

"y/n" the two minutes then end and will waves goodbye before heading back onto the ice.

"he seemed nice," f/n says and i look at her

"you want him, don't you?"

"what gave it away?"

"everything," i say and turn back to watching the game.

michigan ended up winning and f/n and i screamed our lungs out at the victory. while we were getting up to leave, will skated over and tapped on the glass. i looked up and he pointed in the direction of their locker rooms.

"i was told to tell you to wait out by the locker room" he then skates off and f/n shakes my arm excitedly.

"i bet it was mr. scored-y/n-a-goal. he took one look at you and now he's addicted."

"please. i just met the guy"

"that's not stopping him, is it?" she gives me a look and then tells me she'll be waiting in the car listening to sad adele songs.

i weaved my way through the crowd, finally getting through the cluster of people. when i arrive where i need to be, there's a tall, what i'm assuming, security man standing there.

"can i help you?"

"yeah, uh, will told me someone wanted me to wait for them outside the locker room?" he doesn't budge which makes sense. he probably thinks i'm trying to get free eye candy.

"uh huh. and i'm beyonce" i squint at him and tilt my head to the side slightly.

"i don't remember beyonce having a moustache." i see his jaw clench and i cross my arms back, mirroring him.

"believe me or not, i was asked to be here."

"so was every other girl that tried to use that." i point a finger at him.

"listen pal-" i'm cut off by a door opening and quinn walks out and he looks between the guy and i. he takes in the security man's hard expression and laughs.

"relax, sully. she's here for me" he throws an arm around my shoulders and sully's face drops slightly. i smirk victoriously. quinn then looks at me, smiling softly.

"you got my message?" i nod

"come on, i've yet to hear your voice. but the way will said you were flaming boston, i need to hear you talk." i laugh and when i'm done, i speak.

"to be fair, boston deserved it," he laughs and a big smile is on his face.

"i could listen to you talk forever," he says and i shy away slightly.

"i never caught your name," he says

"y/n" he repeats it to himself and smiles.

"i can get used to saying that. say, y/n, are you free saturday at seven?"

"let me check my calendar," i pull out my phone, but before i even turn it on, i shove it back in my pocket. "yep. seems like i'm all yours"

"you won't regret it," he says, walking backwards to the exit, a dopey smile on his face.

"i better not, hughes!" i call out and shake my head, a smile on my face as i head to the car where f/n was waiting. as i approach the car, i can hear the faint tune of all i ask by adele playing and i let out a quiet laugh.

i knock on the passenger window and she jumps slightly, but looks at me, then unlocking the door. i slide in, immediately met with warmth.

"you stayed true to your word," i tell her and she nods, resting her head on the steering wheel. in the act of doing that, she accidentally laid her head on the horn and she was quick to bring her head back up.

"please tell me something happened so i didn't have this sad session for nothing." i laugh and nod

"he asked me on a date saturday." her eyes light up and her demeanor changes quickly.

"this is amazing for you! i'm so happy for you, y/n" i give her a soft smile and then break the silence.

"but don't worry, f/n. you'll always be my number one. still gotta stick to our plan on fleeing america and becoming the gay wine aunts." she nods

"damn straight. i refuse to let a man take you away from me." i laugh and shake my head.

***

i smile fondly at the memory and quinn softly chuckles from the kitchen.

"what's got you all smiley over there, huh?" i stand up and walk around the island and wrap my arms around his neck, looking into his eyes.

"reminiscing on the night we met. you were a little flirt back in college." he playfully places a hand over his heart.

"you really have a way with words." i hum

"only for you my love" his cheeks go red at the pet name and he rests his head on my shoulder. i find it so adorable when he gets all bashful over the small things. we stay standing there in each other's arms for a while before quinn brings his head back up and looks at me.

"making a move on you that night is something i'll never regret."

"and saying yes to that date is something i'll never regret for as long as i'm still breathing." he smiles and i place a hand on his cheek. he then dips his head down and gives me a kiss and when he pulls apart, he has a love-sick look in his eyes. i'm sure mine hold the same look.

after quinn cooked us dinner, we headed to bed. the two of us were just lying there in the dark, my head rested on his chest.

"marry me." quinn says, breaking the silence. it caught me off-guard and i sit up and look down at him. although it was dark in the room, the moonlight coming in through the curtains shone on his face, illuminating his features.

"you're serious?"

"as serious as i'll ever be" i lean down and pepper kisses all over his face and i can hear his laughs and feel his warm arms around me.

"i would love to marry you, quinn."

"is that a yes?"

"absofuckinglutely" he laughs

"now let's go to sleep... future mrs. hughes."

BONUS:

quinn and i settled down after his impromptu proposal. it was around two in the morning and quinn was already asleep when i started to softly giggle.

"why're you laughing?" quinn groggily asks from behind me.

"i just thought of a new nickname for you," i continue to quietly laugh to myself at the thought that randomly appeared in my head.

"what is it?" his tone is laced with sleep and i laugh one more time before saying the ridiculous nickname i created for him.

"quinoa" i erupt into another fit of laughter and quinn sleepily groans.

"y/n, it's two in the morning. go to sleep" i quiet down and feel quinn's arms go around my waist, pulling me to his front and i eventually fall asleep.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart

a/n: i am absolutely exhausted, but i wanted to get this published (:

[monsterintheballroom]

Article under the cut :-)

Penelope Wilton: ‘My street cred went up when I did Shaun of the Dead’

Sat 20 Jul 2024 15.00 CEST

I had a ghastly time at school. I was dyslexic, which was seen as backward at the time. The only person who took any notice of me was a very nice poetry teacher. I was good at learning poems, so I went in for reading competitions. I remember my mother jumping out of the car when I was about 10, after I’d won a cup, and saying to my two ghastly headmistresses: “See, she’s got a cup. She’s not a dunce!”

My sister, Rosemary, was a producer and documentary maker. She got me my first job as an extra who had varicose veins. These very serious makeup ladies put spaghetti down the backs of my legs, but nobody seemed to be happy with that. I got chatting to a cleaner during a coffee break who had marvellous varicose veins. I went up to the director – things were much more hierarchical in the 1960s – and said: “I���m sorry my legs aren’t any good, but the cleaner’s legs are wonderful.” Actresses always had a reputation for being difficult. As you get older you realise why: because they often had to deal with very difficult men. Acting is collaborative. You have to get on with people, play to your strengths – and wait until you get home to moan. I once got lost on the way to the theatre – the worst thing ever. I was driving to the West End way before satnavs, ran into a diversion, and got completely lost in north London. I parked the car, summoned a lift from this charming man and said, “If you can take me to the Almeida, I’ll get you a seat.” And he did.

My walls are covered in paintings. I like to buy one when I do a job that pays well. I bought a very nice painting when I did Doctor Who and a very nice painting when I did the Marigold Hotel films. I can tell which job has paid for which painting.

Shaun of the Dead brought me to a younger generation. My daughter was about 19 or 20 when it came out and my street cred with her friends went up astronomically. Much more than when I was doing The Cherry Orchard. I don’t really know the perks of being a Dame. But I did once want an enormous amount of rubbish collected outside in the road where I live. You know, when there’s a little pile, people add more and eventually a Hoover was dumped. So I rang the council and said, “This is Dame Penelope Wilton. Could you please get rid of the rubbish in my road?” So I thought I was doing a thing for the community, not just for myself. Life is short. I try to enjoy everything: sitting in the park, looking at the trees, seeing friends and family. I’ve got two grandchildren, my daughter and my sister. I enjoy going to concerts. We’re just waiting to book the Proms, but you have to go online and there’s usually 15,000 people ahead of you. Maybe I should pull the Dame card.

[upthewitchypunx]

My birthday is next month. For the last few years I've bought myself no fun boring but important gifts; a new washing machine, a refrigerator, and this year looks like we are replacing our porch and hand rail up the steps. it needs it. Everyone thinks buying a house is all about getting to paint the rooms, but really it's about replacing your furnace the first winter or a water heater or a sewer line and it goes on and on and never stops.

In other news, my mugwort was trying to eat a foxglove I transplanted so I had to move the foxglove, I battled the porch wisteria yesterday and I won, and I'm battling slugs for my cucumber seedlings and we are at a draw, i found a small fern in my garden i thought had died, today is voting day so we need to fill our our ballots and drop the off and then get our craft beer reward for our civic.

Ian B cleaned up our basement a few months ago and emptied a bunch of junk into our back around our hops and old seating area. it's mostly 20+ years of old paint cans we never cleared out, My ex-husband had a problem with picking up any can of paint off the street or the bad mixes at stores. We can put them in the garbage when they are hardened so I'm slowly augmenting our garbage with cans of old paint. We decided to move the seating area to the back area by the potting bench...and the grove of cannabis plants we have here in our legal weed state. It's not my favorite smell, but it will be nice to eat outside again.

Oh, did I mention that last year we found a hop plant volunteer? Hops are apparently hard to germinate from seed and are usually done with rhizomes. the ones from seed are not the same where they came from so we have no idea what it will be so we have a new variety of hop. We transplanted to a better space over by the fence and hop lines. It was kind of a wreck and hard to transplant but it is shooting out new shoots now so we are really excited.

[haihaihaitani]

Adrenaline ~ *Ken Ryuguji*

Summary: You have some brand new toys you want to show off to Draken. He’s more than impressed with one of them. You can’t wait to show him what you can do with it!

Pairing: Ken Ryuguji X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1305

Warning: swearing, reckless driving, one vague death threat, a get out of jail free card

Masterlist

Taglist: @soulangel​

A/N: Inspired by the song Adrenaline by Shinedown

“Wow.”

“You like it?”

“Like it?” Draken shrugged. “It’s alright I guess.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guess? C’mon! She’s gorgeous! And she was made for the streets! I plan on winning so much money with her!”

He shrugged. “Sure, I mean, I guess you could. But she’s not perfect.”

Pouting, you crossed your arms. “Fine, smart guy. What’s wrong with her?”

You watched closely as Draken examined your bike carefully. “She’s just… I don’t know, wrong. She’s just wrong.”

With a huff, you leaned over the bike and batted your eyelashes at him. “So you’ll fix her for me?”

Ruffling your hair, he smirked. “In your dreams kid.”

You grit your teeth. “Then would you like to buy her from me?”

“I thought you said you were going to make a lot of money off of her?”

“Yeah! I thought so too! But if the best motorcycle mechanic in all of Japan says she’s wrong, I’m going to listen to him and say she’s wrong too.”

Draken rolled his eyes. “I could take her, fix her up nice and good for you if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want. It’s what’s best for Toman.” You explained with a cheeky smile. “If I can’t win with her, I can’t give any money to Toman. So if you want her, you can have her.”

“Oh alright! I’ll take a look at her when I have the time.”

Squealing with delight, you slipped around the bike and hugged Draken tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Alright, knock it off already.” He muttered, but he didn’t make a move to push you off of him.

Instead, you let go of your own accord. With a cheerful grin, you grabbed his hand. “I almost forgot to show you my other surprise! See, I bought this bike with my own, hard won money. But this other beauty I have, I won her off a street race last week! I want to take you for a ride around town with her because she is the real stunner in my collection of fine motor vehicles!”

You didn’t even give a chance to ask what you were talking about. Instead, you showed him your new cherry red hotrod. You giggled as his jaw dropped. Honestly, you should have shown him your new pride and joy before the bike, but semantics.

“Well? What do you think?”

“What do I think?” He breathed. “I think you should’ve started with her.”

You laughed and waved him off. “You’re right, you’re right. But Cherry Bomb deserves to be the grand finale. So what do you say? Wanna go for a ride?”

“You’re kidding right?”

Jumping into the front seat, you put the keys in the ignition. Draken ran his hand over the dashboard in complete awe over the craftsmanship. You couldn’t help but beam with pride.

“It’s all hand-crafted. I verified with a dealer. I also had her recently detailed and cleaned. Had to go way out of town to get it done because there are only two verified details in the whole country that work on cars like this.”

“That must have been expensive.”

Again, you waved him off. “It’s worth it. She’ll be my showgirl for a while and then when she’s ready, I’m going to take her to more high society street races. I’ll let her run some laps before putting her back on the showman’s circuit.”

“Yeah, you’ll definitely be able to sneak into high society races in this.” He assured you. “But to win, you gotta see how she runs.”

With a devilish grin, you put the car into drive. “Then you better hold on to something.”

And just like that, you blasted off like a rocket. You weren’t kidding when you told him to hold onto something. While he looked slightly concerned for your mental health, you just laughed. This was going to be so fun!

Zooming through the city, you made quick, sharp turns and flew past other cars. Most people would have trouble navigating the streets of Tokyo like this. But you were a professional drag racer. You knew what you were doing. And even though Draken looked scared out of his mind, you knew he knew you knew what you were doing. He trusted you, even if he didn’t look like he did right now.

It wasn’t long before you heard police sirens coming after you. Glancing at Draken, who slightly shook his head no, you floored it. His knuckles turned white as he held onto the dashboard. But you just kept laughing. This was the fun part. Nothing like running circles around the cops, only to pull out your secret weapon when the heat got close enough to burn.

And that happened right when you reached the edge of Tokyo. Carefully, you pulled over and rolled down your window. The cop came up to you and you flashed a bright smile.

“Hi officer! How can I help you?”

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

“No. Can you tell me?”

He didn’t look impressed by your answer, his tone sharp as he addressed you, “You were going almost three times over the speed limit. You could have killed someone and yourself with your reckless driving. I need you to step out of the car right now.”

Leaning against the window frame, you batted your eyelashes. “Aw, c’mon. Can’t you overlook this little misunderstanding? See, I didn’t hit or kill anyone. If anything, you should be impressed with how carefully I weaved through traffic. I did some pretty good driving back there.”

“Is this a joke to you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide. “Oh, no sir! See, I think the rules of the road are very important! That’s why I was very careful going almost three times over the speed limit! I would never intentionally try to hit someone! I can promise you that!”

“Get out of the car now or I will be forced to remove you from the vehicle with extreme prejudice.” He snapped.

With a sigh, you grabbed your wallet and pulled out a card before waving it in front of his face. You kept your smirk to yourself as all the color drained from his face. “Does this help?”

“Y-you…” He trailed off before tipping his hat. “My mistake! I must have pulled over the wrong person! You have a good night now!”

And he ran off and drove away just as fast.

Draken glared at you. “What the hell was that?”

You shrugged. “Well, I’m not a real member of Toman and Mikey will never let me join no matter how much I try and sweet talk him. So I had one of the guys make me a Toman ID card. I would have liked a snazzy jacket like the rest of you have. But Takashi won’t do shit for me without Mikey’s permission.”

He shook his head. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely mental.” You winked at him. “But you love me like that, don’t you?”

A dusting of pink fell on his cheeks and he looked away. “Whatever.”

“So what did you think of the car? She runs pretty great, doesn’t she?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I have to admit. She’s a pretty awesome car. Just don’t wreck her.”

You gasped in faux shock. “Just who do you think you’re talking to? I am super careful! I would never destroy her, not that easily!”

“Hey I’ve seen the way you drive. I have every right to be worried.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the car back into drive. “Oh relax. You haven’t seen anything yet. So if I were you, I’d hold onto something again.”

And you raced back to Draken’s bike shop, him regretting ever meeting you and you laughing your head off the entire way.