#its literally just are they being rude while he is in the building am i allowed to kill him or not im doing it anyway

[jebiknights]

Saw someone saying something about Vader's politics and whatever politics Anakin believed before he Fell, tbh I think Vader's politics are just depression and apathy lmao. Any politics he engaged in after are against his will or like office politics.

Except that instead of normal levels of psychological warfare against that annoying guy who keeps talking to you at the water cooler, you're a cyborg demigod who can strangle people with your mind and you and all of your coworkers are committing war crimes.

#comm chatter #darth vader #sndgiojrirg #vader #idk if im gonna respond to them but someone reblogged one of my posts making it seem like vader was like #purposefully taking out brass that were too powerful and its like ???? #i do not think vader has that much power OR the will to care about that lmao #its literally just are they being rude while he is in the building am i allowed to kill him or not im doing it anyway #and then he gets electrocuted by palpatine for killing another rich military guy #he cared about killing kenobi and then finding his son and maybe killing some desenters along the way

[starrshaddow]

part 2 of that university mizu i wrote

So you have her hoodie right?

Its so big on you btw (reaches your thighs) but it's also very comfy.

You're on your way home, on the bus. She waved at you goodbye from outside the window. Of course you waved back. Without her hoodie, she's just wearing a plain tee shirt.

It's not even cold in the bus.

Hell, its not even that cold outside too.

So u cant help but smile at her caring gesture.

Your hand goes up to your lips to suppress the big smile on your face.

then you realize her hoodie smells like her too.

Now her perfume is stuck on you too.

You could still smell her perfume even after you've taken off her hoodie

___

You texted her that you'll return it tomorrow. You both have your respective classes. she has morning class while you have afternoon classes.

Lmk if your class is done, im waiting outside ur building :))

That was your mesage an hour ago. She didnt respond.

You constantly looked at the time and checked her schedule, double thinking whether or not this is her actual building.

Ding!

I'm omw

it wasnt too long until she walked out of the building with her bag slung over her shoulder. You smile.

Then you notice there was someone else with her.

Whoever he was, he was creating years amount of stress on mizu's face

"Why'd you keep telling me to go away? Not like i'm going to scare her off! Or maybe you're scared. You scared she'd ditch you for me once she sees me? What? You scared?"

"shut up." mizu said through gritted teeth

Then her serious and annoyed expression quickly shifted to a more softer and gentler when she sees you.

Her brow relaxes and she stops walking fast, trying to escape her chatterbox of a 'friend'.

You smile at her and you wave.

You look at the man beside her a polite smile and an acknowledging nod.

You walk to Mizu to give her a paperbag

"thanks"

She looked confused as she peaked inside the paperbag

"its- uh, your hoodie," you point yourself, "the one you let me borrow? Remember? Yesterday?"

She huffed a laugh at your stammering

"i was hoping you're not going to return it."

Huh?

She gave you back the paperbag

"keep it."

You look at it in uncertainty, you glance at the man beside her who also seems kinda surprised, then to mizu who looks at you encouragingly.

Take it.

Is what she seems to say.

So you did, but unable to look her for long in the eye from being flustered.

"Thanks?" you laughed. "Do you want to have breakfast?"

"It's eleven."

You rolled your eyes

"then brunch."

Then you remembered her friend,

"oh,- uh, he can come with if he wants to! What's your name, by the way?"

"Taigen!-" "Absolutely not."

Taigen looked at Mizu like she just told him to go to hell. (she kind of did, in her mizu way)

even you were taken back by her cold COLD COLD voice.

"he's busy." mizu said with finality.

Taigen frowned

"What's with you? Can't i atleast meet your new friend? Its not everyday you get a new friend! Dude, come on!"

Mizu turns to him with a sharp glare behind her glasses.

Taigen huffs and walks away.

"Whatever. Fucking rude." then he smiles at you, a very good smile that probably has the intent in looking handsome. "My names Taigen by the way, if you ever get done with Mizu's bitchiness my number is-"

Mizu just pushed him away by his face and went to you, grabbed you by the hand and speed walked out of there (it was hard to keep up, she walks fast).

"he's something."

"something to get rid of, more of." she responded quickly, it made you laugh.

That was when you started asking her if she have other people in the uni she's close with. She said yes and told you about akemi and ringo.... and taigen.

"out of all of them, i like being with you the most."

GIRL COME ON

SHE'S SUPER INTO YOU BUT YOU DONT WANT TO JUMP INTO CONCLUSIONS

THIS UNI READER AND MIZU IS MAKING ME PULL OUT MY HAIR

Mizu: i am literally in love with you

Reader: oh haha i love my friends too

___

Mizu started introducing you to her friends one by one after that. She wasnt surprised to see you and ringo get along since you both share a very calm and kind vibe.

Akemi, you were a bit hesitant at first. I think you felt somewhat insecure? She just looks so pretty, and...

"Oh, this is (Y/n)? It's nice to finally meet you!"

But when she spoke to you and you start talking to her, she's a very interesting person. She's kind, have that fierceness in her, but honest and polite. She's cool, and you got along well with her.

Then there's taigen.

You didnt hate him, but he does get overwhelming at times. He does say funny comments.

You thought him and mizu's interaction was the best it can be but man, is seeing him, mizu, and akemi banter is the best.

It's like a sitcom. Insults thrown here and there which usually ends with taigen with his ego or face bruised.

___

the most memorable thing you two had was during a party

Its so full of people, like touching shoulders at how many there were and you were both just there to pop in and say hi to akemi, wish her a happy birthday. Stay a few hours and leave to hang out somewhere.

You two love doing that. going in a very extroverted place just to say you went only to leave early to do whatever introverted stuff you two want to do (like stop by the grocery because you needed to restock, or stop by the park on mizu's way home because there are cats there)

anyways, so there were so many people right?? And they were havng fun, its loud, they're dancing. and you're starting to feel bothered by them. You and mizu are holding hands to get through the people. You both want to go home but you still have to find akemi.

She stops to make sure you're close behind her, and just as you were about to catch up to her, the crows moves like a tidal wave you end up being caught in it like a fish caught in the currents.

You get shoved so hard that you let go of mizu's hand and end up stumbling forward.

Youre pressed up to someone

and youre too embarassed and too scared to look.

Then you smell their perfume

Mizu.

Your heart thumps.

And you stopped breathing when she shifts, so your head is tucked under her jaw. Her hand finding its way around your waist

it was like she was shielding you away from the people, a crowd that you hate so much.

She's warm. super warm

Or maybe its just you and your lesbian disaster tendencies?

The fact that your height difference was even made more obvious in this situation wasnt helping

Then the crowd shifts and finally there's space again.

And even when there was space, she didnt pull away.

So you did.

You pulled away because you didnt want to make her uncomfortable, not knowing she cherished every single second of it.

That was the first time you two even made physical contact. Like straight up somewhat intimate physical contact that goes more than hand holding and arm touches.

None of you mentioned it on the way home.

But you were both thinking about it.

(i bet mizu felt giddy over it but her face remained stoic lmao)

___

i think mizu thinks you dont like her back the same way she likes you. (come on, she might as well marry you at this point)

So i think what she did was she wanted to enjoy your presence and convesations and decided she'll tell you when she can see that you feel the same way. if you still dont reciprocate her feelings then she'll definitely court you (in a non obvious way) until you do

___

when she came over to your apartment it was when you definitely trust her lotsa to be there.

You guys watched movies in a projector. Overtime it made mizu sleepy and she drifted off.

You were so invested in the movie you just noticed it when you heard her low soft breathing. (she's quiet during the movie, she made little comments and remarks like "why would she go there? Is she stupid?")

SHES SO CUTE WHEN SHES ASLEEP OKAY

She looks so unguarded.

So you took your phone and snapped a pic. You even replaced her contacts picture to it.

Her hair was down today (rare times). You think it looks great on her too.

when she woke up, she was super embarassed and apologetic

"no, its fine! Dont worry about it." then you showed her her picture. "you look really cute by the way."

Mizu didnt know how to react??? But she did march towards you to grab your phone but you easily held it away and dodged her.

She gave up

so she stood there and looked you directly in the eyes. Face half amused and adoring

"you're such a fucking brat."

Then she left and went back to your couch. Her long hair swaying behind her.

i'd be lying if i said that statement lived rent free in your mind

That was the first time you heard her curse

___

if she went in your home, you did too in her dorm. it was during a school break. Her roommate was away visiting her family.

Turns out she lived closer to the uni than you. It's just a few minutes walk away.

it made you feel warm knowing she had to walk maybe ten minutes? just to wait for the bus with you, and walk another ten to go back here again.

She never mentioned it too

Mizu's a real clean freak kind of person, she wants everything to be organized. But you also learned she cant cook. She even burned a pasta, how do you burn a pasta?!

"i didnt know i had to boil water first."

"well what did you do first?"

She was silent then she turned away from you

"...i placed the pasta in a pan with oil."

You dont know what to say anymore

I think youre the one to teach her (other than ringo) how to cook.

Also when you both were cutting vegetables, mizu held her knife wrong so you'll correct her and teach her how.

"here, let me show you."

You held her and positioned the knife properly on her hand. While you explained and taught her how to easily slice a cabbage, you missed how she cheekily smiled.

We all know how great mizu is with a knife.

She just wanted a reason to hold your hand.

"ringo, i dont think i'll be going to your cooking lessons next week."

"what? why? Is my teaching skills not good?" ringo asked worriedly

"no, you're great, ringo. I just..." she smiled, "want to learn from someone else."

___

I think the gang had enough of you two pining each other like a bunch of idiots, so they all had the plan of getting you both drunk after exams under the excuse of 'celebrating'.

But it didnt work

Because you were incredibly responsible and drink slowly (two hours have passed and you're still drinking from the same glass)

While mizu didnt drink at all (she knows what they're doing and she doesnt like it because she wants you or her to confess during the right time and place while being sober. hell no is she going to drunkleny confess to you at the sidewalk).

The gang (mostly taigen) tried to force either of you to drink but it didnt work.

Akemi nudged taigen from under the table. And that was their cue to go to Plan B.

Plan B? Taigen starts hitting on you (was supposed to be inconspicuously but he's bad at being inconspicuous)

compliments you, jokes that made you laugh, and jabs of insults to mizu.

anyways, i think mizu got annoyed and went up to go to the bathroom.

You notice and excuse yourself from the group. You go after her.

She was cleaning her glasses with the end of her shirt when you got there.

You see the slight furrow in her brow and the tightness on her jaw.

You smile comfortingly at her.

"Wanna ditch this place with me?"

"You can stay. You look like you're enjoying yourself, anyways."

She doesn't return your smile like she usually do. She wasn't joking.

your smile falters and you slowly approach her.

"What do you mean? Of course i am, they're our friends."

I think mizu's upset because she's starting to think you really dont like her at all. Or maybe you just don't like a 'her' in general. You don't giggle the same way as you did to taigen, nor do your eyes shine when he compliments you.

She wants to leave and think.

Mizu sighs and turns to you

"i'm going. Tell them that for me."

"what?" you grab her hand when she walks past you. "Mizu, what- where are you doing? What's wrong?"

Should she say it?

Say how much she likes you that it's absolutely breaking seeing you not realize it?

She wanted to scoff.

Hell no. She's not going to admit just because fucking Taigen started hitting on you.

Then she looks at you, and just like that all her frustrations and annoyance washes away.

You looked genuinely upset and worried for her.

Your eyes are sad, and you're looking up to her like she just told you she's leaving forever.

Oh

She sees it now.

That all this time you have been looking at her differently, but she wasn't able to see it because she sees you all the time.

You look at her with so much longing and care that it made her feel weak.

So she holds your hand that's gripping her wrist and offers you a gentle smile.

"I'm going to tell them we're going. How's that?"

There it is.

Your heartfelt smile.

"Okay."

#mizu x reader #modern mizu

[modelbus]

It says that your requests are open so here goes nothing.

I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS THEY ARE SO AMAZING LIKE MWH OU ARE THE DEFINITION OF AN AUTHOR 💗💗

So basically could you do a Tommyinnit x reader (I love molly guys <3) and like the reader has Tourette’s syndrome? And like on of their tics is that they say like ‘fuck you’ or ‘piss off’ and just really offensive stuff but they can’t control it (obviously). So Tommy shows them for the first time on his stream as his partner and people like hate them because of how they are ‘acting weird’ or ‘being rude’. (Also can there be a service dog with the name Kai? Also can he be an Autrilian Shepard? If not that’s fine :])

If you can thank you :) (you can call me lulu if you want)

I tried my best to be as accurate as possible, and I did my own research into some things, but if there's anything I messed up please tell me and I will fix it immediately! I had no idea people could get service dogs for Tourettes so I did some research into tasks and such too.

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader

Ticked Tics

"Are you sure you want me on your stream?" You can't help but ask, leg nervously bouncing.

Tommy, your ever-so-patient boyfriend, was thrilled when you agreed to show up for one of his streams. "Just one" he had claimed, and you had given in nearly immediately. But now that you're seconds away, sitting in a chair next to him while his starting soon screen is up, you're having second thoughts. Not about your own social anxiety, but about what might happen for him if your Tourette's acts up.

It's been a pretty mild day so far, which is why you felt good agreeing to go on stream in the first place. But as your anxiety builds, you find yourself involuntarily having tics. Head jerking to the side as your shoulder jerks up, inches away from colliding with each other, is one you do most often and it's one you're repeatedly doing now.

"Of course!" He assures you. "They'll love you. I mean, I love you so they have to or else I'll ban them all."

“Sounds a bit like a dictatorship, Tom.”

“I am a dick-tay-tor!” He exclaims, purposefully separating the word.

“Eat shit.” You chirp immediately, paired with two middle fingers. Immediately after you shoot him an apologetic look. “Sorr—“

“I will eat shit, thank you.” He responds pleasantly.

It’s a thing he does sometimes; responding to your tics. In a way it makes you feel better, less like it’s genuinely annoying him. Your apologetic look turns into laugh.

“Ready?” He asks you, hovering over the OBS scene to switch into his camera.

You lower your hand, holding it out parallel to the floor to your side. Within seconds a warm and furry creature pushes its head up into your hand. You send a smile to your service dog, Kai, running a hand through the white fur on top of his head. Expensive as hell, but you love him.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Let’s do this.”

Tommy clicks over the scene change, leaning back in his chair and clapping his hands. “Welcome to the stream boys!” He yells out.

Kai worms his head into your lap, blue eyes staring up at you while his tail wags softly. He’s a cuddler, especially when it comes to you getting anxious in order to calm you down.

“Now we have a special guest.” Tommy waves his hand dramatically, faking holding a microphone out to you. “Introduce yourself, special guest.”

”Oh, piss off.” The second the words are out of your mouth, you dig your nails into your palm. Fuck. Kai licks at your hand until you open it, letting him set his head on your palm.

“Wise words.” Tommy nods. “So, everyone, this is my partner! You all thought it couldn’t be done, but I’m so hot and attractive.”

He pauses for a second, looking over at his second monitor where the chat is pulled up. It’s scrolling through messages fast, making you look away before you get a headache.

“Hi.” You say awkwardly to the stream. "That's me."

“Today I was going to tell you all a little story! You’re all my little bitty children, gathering around for a bedtime story.”

“It’s, like, 4.” You point out to him.

“Schematics! And I brought you along because you were there during this story, so you can chime in!” He leans over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders to shake you a bit. You laugh, playfully swatting his hands away.

“Yeah yeah.” Even with the camera and the stream, this is still Tommy. Your Tommy. “This is the pigeon story, right?”

He nods. “It was a dark and dreary night—buzz word guys!—when I stumbled upon the pigeon.”

“Very dark, very dreary.” You agree.

It was actually broad daylight when this had happened, but who cares?

“And I was just living my life, very casually—“

“Fuck you!”

Despite your tic, Tommy continues talking. Used to it, and knowing he doesn’t need to respond. “—waking down the street with my partner here. As I do, right? Walking around like a normal person.”

He keeps talking, parts of the story true then other parts outlandishly wild. You don’t correct the lies, finding it funnier than you probably should.

You let your attention drift to Kai, who has apparently decided to weasel his way halfway into your lap. Your hands brush past his soft ears, losing focus. When you turn back to Tommy, he’s about halfway through his story.

“And then I said—“

“Fuck you!”

“No.” He deadpans. “Come on, don’t you remember?” Tommy laughs. Not in a cruel way like people have laughed at you before, but in a joking way. A way that implies you’re in on the joke with him.

“What part are we even at?” You laugh.

“The bread seller. The sketchy one. Oh! And he smelled, chat. Like… like what I think Sapnap would smell like.”

On a knee-jerk reaction, you raise your hand, fully ready to just bonk the desk with your fist. Before you can, Tommy’s hand darts out, catching your wrist and holding steady until you can uncurl your fingers from the fist.

“Sorry.” You murmur, hopefully quiet enough that the stream doesn’t pick it up.

“No worries.”

You lean back in your chair, watching him explain things to chat. He’s far more animated than normal, making it almost endearing to watch.

Eyes sliding over to chat, you realize it’s slowed down a bit so you can read it. You have to double read several messages, heart stopping.

“Anyone else think Tommy’s partner is rude af rn???”

“His partner lowkey an asshole…”

“run while u can Tommy!!”

“they’re so fucking weird XD”

“Omg THATS his partner”

“bro got the shittiest partner fr fr”

Kai barks sharply, making you jump. Tommy spins towards you immediately, looking at Kai first.

“Yeah?” He asks the dog, before looking to you. Tommy studies you for a second, then his eyes flick to the chat. “Emote only for a second guys.”

Well, fuck.

Kai had barked, pretty loudly, and not for no reason. As one of his tasks he was trained to alert to possible tic attacks, detecting the hormone change before even you could. He was also trained to help calm you down and help with the tic attack, but detection was first.

And of course Tommy knew what it meant, and of course he knew why. He knew you too well, a fact you loved him for and also sometimes hated him for.

“Chat, I’m seeing some negativity here. None of that in my stream, and none of that towards my partner is allowed.” He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for silent permission to tell the stream. You nod. “They have Tourette’s, so just fucking piss off about giving ‘em shit for their tics.”

He pauses, and you realize a moment too late he’s letting you explain what the hell Tourettes and tics are.

“Um, for those who don't know, Tourette's is a neurological thing which causes involuntary tics." You explain, albiet a bit awkwardly. But Tommy nods, smiling at you.

"And Kai is here. Can we show Kai to the stream? Stream, say hi to Kai the service dog!"

You click your tongue, calling for Kai even though he's right next to you. "C'mere Kai!" He practically clambers into your lap to suffocate you.

"Oh, God, Kai-" You yelp.

Tommy is of no help, too busy laughing. After a second he guides Kai off of you, leaving you to spit out dog hair.

"So yeah, there's that. Now that everyone has stopped being dickheads, back to my very important story."

You reach forward, taking a drink of Tommy's coke to clear your mouth of any dog fur you might've accidentally ingested. Australian Shepards, although cute, have so much fur.

"Am I going to pay attention to the fact my partner is choking on dog hair?" Tommy asks rhetorically. "No, I'm not. Continuing."

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommy innit #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit imagine

[leilakisakabiri]

Dark Paradise (Neymar Jr)

Plot: Reader is a college student tasked with writing a portfolio on the 2014 Brazilian National Team and just can't seem to get along with one player in specific.

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count [2715]

A/N: Hey Guys! No upload schedule for this yet. I am entering finals season for university, but I just wanted to get the story out there. Had so much fun writing this.

Part One.

You had met Neymar back during the 2014 World Cup in Brazil. You had just begun your final year of college studying journalism and had been selected along with 3 other students to work alongside your school's broadcasting company to detail the World Cup.

The job had given you one of the best things in your life, Neymar. You had met on sunny afternoon after practice one day, your professor assigning your team with the task of traveling to Granja Comary to interview the Brazilian players.

Once there you split the players up amongst your team with how you had decided before, with you being the one to interview last.

With some free time on your hands, you decided to take a tour of the property and see if you could find anything that could help in building your piece. The grounds themselves were breathtaking, surrounded by mountains and lush grass as far as the eye could see.

You wandered around, aimlessly walking down random hallways, exploring the different buildings. You came across a display showcasing all the different awards and medals Brazil had won in its history.

"Who the hell are you?"

You looked up startled at the sound of another voice as you came face to face with a tan boy who looked around you age glaring at you, a phone pressed against his hand, clearly already agitated from the phone call.

"I'm sorry?"

"No media allowed here, you need to leave."

You put your hand up in mock surrender playfully, "Oops sorry didn't realize that."

The boy shook his head, before speaking rapidly in what you could only assume was Portuguese, ending the call. He came over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him,

"Clearly. Fucking media never respects anyone."

You were surprised at his rudeness and how you knew you were media before you realized you were wearing a badge literally labeled 'Media Team'.

"Hey! Not all of us are bad, and besides I wasn't even snooping."

He rolled his eyes, still pulling you along towards the exit, "That's what they all say. Now get off the property."

Now it was your turn to be angry, "Excuse me? First of all I'm a human being so treat me like one, second I'm literally just here to do my job."

This just agitated the boy more, "Well then go on and do it instead of just standing around."

You huffed pulling your hand from his grasp.

What an asshole, who the hell did he think he was?

He waited expectedly for you to leave, you bit your tongue not wanting to say anything else to make the argument escalate, "Fine."

"Fine." he replied, and with that, you turned around walking out the door and heading back towards the main buildings where the interviews were being held.

Never had you met someone who was ruder right off the bat, sure you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be, but no one had told you it was off limits, and you weren't even doing anything, just admiring the display.

You came back into the main building finding that things were much more chaotic then when you left.

"What's going on?" you asked as you approached one of your team members, Miles.

"Neymar, the star player, is apparently nowhere to be found. He was supposed to be in the first round of interviews but he stormed off a while ago."

"Why is everyone on this team so tight-strung." you said referring to the mishap you had just minutes prior.

He shrugged, "No idea, anyways, he'll probably end up in your section if they ever find him."

You groaned not looking forward to having to deal with two assholes in one day.

You had never been a big football fan to start with, but by the way your day was going you were sure that by the end of your project you weren't going to end up being one either.

After waiting around for another hour it was your turn to interview, and as you stepped into the media room you found a group of 5 players waiting for you along with the head and assistant coach.

You walked up to them introducing yourself, "Hello everyone my name is Y/N I'm going to be finishing up the interviews for today."

You heard someone let out an excited groan, "Thank god, I'm so hungry."

You let out a smile looking at the player reading his name card, Dani Alves. "I'll try to make it as quick as possible."

You launched into the interview, asking questions about the team strengths and weaknesses, different tactics they used in practices, and how they felt about their chances for this World Cup.

Before you know it, the interview had wrapped, and you were left to gather your things after the players had left whispering to each other about their lunch plans.

You were just about to leave the room when one of the assistant coaches came back into the room.

"Excuse me, sorry Y/N would you mind just staying another 10 minutes? Neymar is ready to give his interview."

You mentally groaned, you were so close to being done and going back to the hotel to rot away, but you couldn't say no.

"Yes, no problem at all. I'll just wait here."

He gave you an appreciative look before telling you he would be right back.

You sat back down on the interview chair, reopening your notes, you hadn't prepared for questioning him as he wasn't assigned to you, and your other team members had already left since their interviews wrapped before yours.

You didn't know really anything about the players, only the gameplay itself so you chose to focus your questions surrounding that.

Soon 10 minutes turned to 15 and then 20, and now almost 30 minutes after he was promised to be here, he was still nowhere to be seen.

You grew annoyed waiting, the room was boring and gray, and you had run out of things to entertain yourself with as you waited. There were only so many times you could read through your notes. Deciding to go see what was taking so long yourself, you walked over to the door, intent on finding someone.

Before you could open the door for yourself, however, it swung open, hitting you square in the face.

You staggered back, holding your now bleeding nose.

"Ow ow, oh my god I'm bleeding."

You looked up trying to find the person responsible before your eyes settled on the same tan boy from before standing in front of you an unreadable expression on his face.

"You."

You shut your eyes, not believing your luck, "Me."

"You two know each other?" A new voice perked up, the assistant coach walking in.

His smile dropped however when he saw your state and Neymar still glaring at you, "What happened? Are you okay?"

You glared back at the boy you came to learn as Neymar, tearing eye contact before looking over to the coach, "I'm fine, do you know where the restroom is?"

He nodded, pointing out the way as you turned to follow his directions, "I'll be right back."

Once you got to the bathroom you analyzed the state of your nose, cringing as you saw the blood smeared around your face. It didn't hurt as bad anymore, but the blood wouldn't stop rushing out.

You grabbed a handful of tissues trying to stop the bleeding, fuming as you thought about Neymar. He hadn't even apologized. Or even done anything to help, just stood there like a stupid statue.

You had never disliked another person so fast in your life.

Had the fame gotten to his head?

That must be it you thought as you finally got the bleeding under control. He was just a spoiled brat who was used to people adhering to his every demand. Well, you weren't going to be one of them, you were going to make sure that he was treated the same way he treated others.

And so the rivalry began.

The interview went just as smoothly as you had expected, meaning it was a complete waste of time. He answered your questions without any snide remarks, although he kept his answers as short as possible.

You were sure he was only being civil towards you because the coaching team was sitting next to him, but even then he purposely found ways to avoid answering your questions, and diverted the subject to something else entirely.

You huffed sick of going around in circles, "So you think that Brazil has the best shot of winning this year?"

"I never said that."

"You said that you think Brazil is at the best it's been in a long time, and you believe you can

lead the team forward."

"Yes."

"So, how do you believe the team will do in terms of winning the World Cup?"

"Unsure."

You gripped your pen tighter in your hand, fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you had asked all the players in your section the same question and they gave you concrete answers, either about how they hoped to do well or believed in the team. However, Neymar was giving you short of nothing.

"Ok, how do you think you will perform this year?" You asked, switching the question slightly.

"Depends."

"On?"

"How well I play."

This time you couldn't stop the urge to roll your eyes as you angled your face to the side, hoping the coaches wouldn't see, however, Neymar had and he made sure of pointing it out.

"Is something wrong?" he asked a smug smile on his face.

You grit your teeth, annoyed that you had just wasted the last hour of your life and gained nothing valuable to include in your piece. "I think we'll go ahead and end the interview here."

He got up before you could even finish your sentence.

"Perfect, thanks everyone."

You watched him leave the room silently cursing him out in every language you knew, which to be fair, was only 2.

The coaches stood up after his exit, beginning to make their way out as well.

The head coach, Scolari, came over to talk to you.

"I hope you got everything you need."

"Yes. Thank you." You said trying your hardest to not seem intimidated. Coach Scolari was a man who radiated authority and looked extremely tough, so he was definitely not someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

He nodded before turning around and walking away with the other coaches.

You grabbed your stuff, exiting the compound to go back to your makeshift home. You hoped that this was a one-time thing and that you wouldn't have any more run in's with the Brazilian team till the World Cup.

You were wrong. So very wrong.

After reading through your team notes, your professor was more adamant than ever that the best story would come from evaluating the Brazilian National Team in their home environment. This meant that for the next two weeks while the team was preparing for the World Cup you and your team would be lingering on the sidelines observing.

Your project which had once just focused on the Brazilian team during the World Cup had switched towards a narrative based on emphasizing who the Brazilian team was at its core, how that was presented in their play, and ultimately how that would lead them to victory. The project was a full-on immersion into the work lives of the entire football staff at Granja Comary.

You felt way in over your head. Essentially now instead of one piece, your professor was requesting a collection of pieces that would be shared in a portfolio, one due before the start of the World Cup, and one at the end.

You knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you had already traveled all the way to Brazil from the United States to be a part of this team, but you couldn't help but wish that you knew the circumstances before coming.

"So does everyone understand the new objective?" You all nodded, listening as your professor explained the change in the assignment.

"Ok good, and remember, we are trying to introduce football to America. We want to write in a way that's persuading, honest, and informative. I'll see you all bright and early Monday morning, we'll meet at the hotel entrance and go as a group." He dismissed your team as you all left the conference room, heading back to your hotel rooms.

Isa, one of the other members of your team walked alongside you, "I can't believe we get to work with the Brazil team. I'm so excited!"

You nodded your head, "Yah they're such a joy to work with."

She frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, "Did something happen?"

"Just some player being rude."

She sighed sympathetically, "Ugh, sorry that's the worst. Don't worry you can probably pass him off to someone else."

You smiled at her words, she made him sound like a dirty rag that could be easily discarded,

which for some reason lightened your mood.

"Yeah probably."

She spoke again changing the topic, "So what are you doing tonight? First Friday in Brazil!"

You shrugged, to be honest you weren't that good friends with anyone on your team, and hadn't really planned on coming to Brazil to have fun.

"Oh c'mon you have to go out. We're only here for two months don't waste your time. The team and I are going out tonight, Miles found some club that he swears is life-changing, you should come with."

"Ok fine, but I can't promise I won't fall asleep, I'm still super jet lagged."

She smiled clapping her hands excitedly, "No problem. Now go get ready we leave in an hour."

The club which ended up being much more extravagant than you had expected was extremely packed with bodies everywhere, and Portuguese dance music blaring through the speakers. There was DJ situated at the front of the room, about 10 feet higher than the rest of the crowd which was dancing along to the music. Lights hung from every corner of the ceiling, wrapping around the bar, switching colors rapidly.

You grasped onto Isa's hand tighter,

"Where are we going?" You complained as she pulled you along with her, maneuvering through the crowd.

"Miles said they're at the bar." She shouted back letting go of your hand as you reached the bar.

The original plan had been to leave as a group from the hotel, but after Isa had seen your outfit, which had consisted of ripped jeans and a cute tie top, she had taken it upon herself to dress you, complaining that American bar attire would not cut it here. This resulted in you both leaving after the boys and having to meet them there.

"Hi guys! Ooh, what are you drinking?" Isa asked as we walked over to them.

Josh who was the final member of your journalism team responded, "Signature cocktails. Shit's crazy they lit it on fire before you got here."

Isa nodded, "Look's yummy. What are you getting?" she asked turning to look at you.

"Hmmm maybe a vodka cranberry?"

She groaned again, "Y/N this not America, c'mon get something new."

You laughed, "Ok, ok, maybe I'll get the Brazilian Dream?" You spoke reading over the several

different drink names listed on the counter.

She cheered beside you, "Fuck yes. Brazilian Dream love it."

After you ordered the group of you decided to head back into the crowd and attempt to dance.

Keyword being attempt. You soon found out that neither Miles nor Josh had any rhythm as they jutted their hips awkwardly to the music looking like they were always one step behind the beat.

You and Isa couldn't help but giggle over them, they couldn't dance for the life of them but seemed to be enjoying themselves nonetheless.

Josh held up his drink, the liquid dangerously close to spilling out, "To Brazil!" he screamed over the music.

You all laughed, raising your glasses to clink with his, the liquid from your drink now spilling over all your dancing bodies,

"To Brazil!"

#neymar #neymarjr #neymarimagines #neymar jr imagine #neymarjunior #neymar imagine #neymar jr #football imagine #neymar prompt #brazil #brasil #neymar fanfic #barcelona #soccer imagine #neymar one shot #neymar angst #neymar fluff #neymar psg #world cup

[narwhalandchill]

i have to say of all the things people were speculating before 4.2 the fontaine AQ "theory" (if you could even call it that) im the most glad just. aged like complete milk and died silently in a ditch as it should was the way people were just. genuinely thinking the shadow dude in the narwhals stomach was childe 💀 and not even in the "ohhh what if" but actually soo convinced i just????

like hello what the fuck. i cannot believe that was a real thing like it was so widespread bc everyone went all. well the narwhal has to be bad and evil with terrible designs in mind for some nefarious plot relating to ajax so it has to be corrupting him and using his body as a puppet. and then pointing at the absolute most superficial "similarities" between the shadow and foul legacy when literally none of the actual core design aspects of FL were present at all whatsoever 😭 the shadow shares more in common with the fucking husks or even like. those hsr antimatter legion bitches what are you guys talking about. arguing oh the reason it looks nothing like childe or FL is bc hes already been gigasigma corrupted for a billion years in abyss time like WHAT

it got so bad i started fucking. double guessing my own (factually correct. as always. its like dawei wants to feed my ego) assessment of. yeah no fucking way thats ajax. theres some similarities in certain combat moves and some armor traits but like. he didnt invent his fighting style with FL he was literally taught it 💀 and 4.0 already told us skirk taking him in as a disciple had Something to do with his encounter with the narwhal. not at all unusual there would be some parallel (and i do find it plausible that the shadow v much has to do with surtalogi).

the other side of it was also like. yes sure im less reliable on that argument front leading up to 4.2 bc im way too narwhalpilled and obsessed with destined bonds between a mortal and an eldritch cosmic being in general so i was always hoping for it to like him in that based gourmet incomprehensible alien way. BUT. the way ppl fucking trashed my beloved acting all oh the narwhal calling for ajax must involve wanting to do something terrible to the uhhhhhh (checks notes) kid that.... freed it? woke it up? after an indeterminate time spent in some sort of stasis and imprisonment??? especially when its a creature meant to be freely traversing the cosmos?? Huh? 😭 tf would the narwhal have against him im crying. stop assuming the worst of this lovely friend shaped cetacean that is literally so rude.

(And like. i mean this with the utmost respect to his clear power boost regarding mastery over FL and am by no means trying to flatten or dismiss his development but also. 45+ days brawling. when the narwhal was already more or less fully primordial sea juice boosted. and when it went DIRECTLY for the kill against all those shrimp civilians in the cutscene. ajax. ajax. ajax. you did a great job but no way in fucking hell am i believing the narwhal was at any point trying to kill you fr im sorry 💀💀💀 you got the VIP treatment bc it likes you and i am Not believing otherwise unless dawei himself smites me and rebukes this directly. edit: and like he fell back in passed out & near death. well why the fuck wouldnt it finish the job right there and then???? checkmate atheists)

ultimately it just made no sense and while theories are fair game for everyone and all i just really hated this one its literally so petty but i cant help it im so glad it was instakilled on spot by the 4.2 trailer SKSKSKDKSKSDSJK i saw my man true and real in all his foul legacy drip and i knew i won.

also when the narwhal attack animations leaked and people were all oh my god its destroying childes constellation this is super bad and evil and i just. you mean the constellations that serve as the direct physical manifestations of celestias hold over destiny and fate. those. you mean the guy whose boss archive entry builds him up as the one who will "overturn this world" having his constellation busted through by a 874679 gigaton star-devouring whale pal could like. in no way shape or form be perhaps a visual metaphor for some. other development. after multiple lore drops and talks of wills capable of rivaling the world and not being chained by celestias ever present gaze. dont you maybe think the visuals of a constellation falling from the sky could also imply a different kind of thing. icant 😭 same for his vision malfunctioning if the narwhals behind that one too. like you mean the device we used to literally spy on his memories and that are all but confirmed to be not quite the quirky divine gift all perks no fine print you might assume. that thing. surely the vision malfunctioning is awful for ajax. (this take was sponsored by sustainer!!!)

it was literally just all these weird assumptions that abyss bad so narwhal from abyss (that aged well lmao) also bad ajax is a helpless baby fish being lured by the seductive calls of his narwhal to the dark side. and so on

and then turns out hes the one attacking the narwhal on sight 💀💀 if only we couldve foreseen his desire to fight the being he encountered during his time in the abyss once they meet again from something like idk his own voicelines that have been there since 1.1..... but alas 😔

#childe doesnt need rescuing from the narwhal surtalogi needs to put them in couples counselling i said what i said #that or solo counselling bro still hasnt dodged the same entity allegations but no time to get into that foil hat theory GSJSJDK #and fwiw yes i am not above accepting the narwhal mightve initiated the brawl either but also like #tf would be nefarious about that its literally childes love language 😭😭😭😭😭 #and not to even mention how the 4.1 cutscene really wasnt. tonally in any form some ominous oh caught in a trap oh no moment either #both the soundtrack and the narwhals vocalizations in it. bc. pay attention to the very start of the bossfight #theres a fucking. almost growl like sound at the very start. THATS hostility from the narwhal yet of all calls it has made at childe #none are like That. yes this is more of a me being insane moment than super serious theory proof but still. #rambles #genshin #childeposting

[tizzyizzy]

What’s the Appeal of Izzy Hands? Part I

Some folks in the OFMD fandom have no idea what the fuck is going on. They look at the main romance, with Ed and Stede, and how their blossoming relationship is helping them both grow. They look at Oluwande, who’s great, and Jim, who’s chaotic. They look at Black Pete and Lucius and how cute they are together. And they wonder why an entire section of the fandom is simping for the angry antagonist and calling him babygirl and shit.

Well, wonder no more! I am going to be explaining why at great length.

Reason the First: He’s Not That Bad

“Izzy’s the villain! He’s the bad guy! Why do you like him?!”

Before we get into this, I want to note that there’s nothing wrong with liking villainous characters. They’re fun and cool and dress in black. Simp away for your evil faves.

But Izzy? He’s not much of a villain. He’s an antagonist, in that he gets in the way of the main romance. But an evil guy?

Characters are judged by the context and framing of that story’s world. That’s why in some narratives a single kill can mark a character as depraved while in others heroes mow through swarms of soldiers without anyone batting an eyelash. In stories without violence, even the worst characters never strike out in anger. The audience willingly suspends their disbelief and goes along with this framing.

OFMD is a pirate comedy where we are meant to sympathize with pirates and a great deal of violence is played for laughs. Almost all of the protagonists have behaved in ways that would be egregious or at best questionable in real life. However, those moments are comedic and their actions are often forgiven by their crewmates. What ends up being treated seriously often depends on its emotional importance, as opposed to some objective moral standard.

In ep 8, Calico Jack mentions Ed participating in the burning of an entire ship full of people. Calico Jack also accidently kills a pet seagull by being careless with whippies. Yet the latter is treated as a more serious turning point than the former. But I think we can all agree that killing a seagull carelessly isn’t in the same league as burning people alive. It receives more narrative importance because it is more important to Stede that Ed is participating in shitty behavior on his boat with an asshole than that Ed had a violent past, which Stede already knew about, to an extent. The reveal that Ed participated in a bunch of people being burned to death is literally build-up to the climactic seagull killing and Ed leaving. 

In episode 5, Izzy throws some questionably homophobic language at Lucius and assigns him chores. He also attempts to blackmail Lucius into doing chores by threatening to reveal his supposed indiscretion drawing Fang. This incident is often brought up as proof that Izzy is a bad person.

In that same episode, Ed has a man flayed alive with a snail fork then drowned. Stede engages in passive aggression so ferocious it causes a ship to be set ablaze.

If you actually weigh up Izzy’s sins next to those of the other characters, you’ll find that he’s in the same moral range, maybe lighter than someone like Ed.

There are three reasons he may, however, appear to be worse at first glance.

First, he’s rude, abrasive, and prickly. We rarely see him relaxed or in company he enjoys. The closest might be on the island with Fang and Ivan. This might make him a dick, but considering this is a show about literal pirates, that’s not much of a mark against him. Even though Izzy may not be committing evil acts, he’s still a constant annoyance.

Second, this is a story about Stede and Ed falling in love. It’s their emotions we focus on, their love that’s at stake. The audience is inclined to dislike anyone who gets in the way of that, regardless of their reasons. Izzy is an obstacle to their love. Regardless of how justified or reasonable Izzy’s antagonism, the audience is viewing the story through the perspective of Stede and Ed.  But being antagonistic isn’t the same as being evil or immoral. Just because Izzy’s behavior feels bad for the audience doesn’t mean Izzy’s actually out of line.

Finally, we don’t get to see his backstory. Izzy’s a deep character, but this first season was, understandably, about establishing and developing the main characters and their romance. While there’s plenty of implication and subtext, we aren’t given glimpses into Izzy’s perspective that would humanize his behavior to the same extent as Stede or Ed. Thus, when Izzy behaves shittily, its harder for the audience to be sympathetic or forgiving. 

“Being about as evil as the other characters” isn’t exactly a reason to love Izzy, but if you are baffled why anyone would sympathize with a “villainous” character like him, I hope this sheds some light.

#izzy hands meta #ofmd meta #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death

[eskewcity]

is the shitty undergrad storytime an offer to your friends/mutuals over dms, or the general public of ur followers? i dont mean to be overfamiliar, but if you wanna post it for the general public id love to hear it lol

no literally it's for anyone because I hate him so much that the offer is open for the general public. I usually am not comfortable with sharing super personal information but in this case I am the one who said anyone could ask so its cool :)

so to begin his name is trent. and yes that's his real name because I can't be bothered to make a fake one and he deserves to be blasted. i would like to state as a bit of background info that I am unintentionally a darling of the history department at my school. I don't know how it happened because I wouldn't necessarily call myself a model student but my one professor offered me a research job for the summer of my freshman year and I have worked close with him on various projects ever since. this has also made me close with the other professors and yes to brag I did win an award because of it :} anyways we are besties blah blah blah it gave me an ego blah blah blah

in comes Trent my sophomore year. he immediately wants to get in the good graces of the department and is just a general kiss ass to everyone there. he does a lot of things to really get professor s. (the professor i work with) to like him but he doesn't really buy into it because he can see through bullshit including mine while I'm writing my capstone lol.

anyways Trent already doesn't like me because I took his spot as a friend to the faculty even though I was there a year earlier. add on the fact that I was (briefly) the treasurer of the history club on campus (I didn't do anything because pandemic and then I went abroad) which is the position he wanted but I got elected.

okay sorry that was a lot of build up for the thing he did that made me cry. so last year, prof s. approached me to essentially work as an online monitor for his class which was half online and on person. basically, I was to watch anyone that raised their hands via zoom and call on them since my professor was in the classroom and couldn't always spot them. I was told explicitly to first pick anyone who doesn't often speak and not necessarily go in the order that people raised their hands. if im honest, it was a really frustrating job for something so simple. I could see students roll their eyes at me when I wouldn't call on them first and it was overall an uncomfortable experience for me because I consider myself a rather reserved person who now has to interrupt almost every class.

so one day I'm calling on people and Trent raises his hand. however a lot of other people also raise their hand that don't often speak so I have to go to them first. I could tell he was getting antsy but I didn't think much of it. when it gets to him, instead of answering the question he decides to berate me endlessly. he goes on to talk about how if my professor's "helper" had picked him earlier that he would have been able to answer and just is insulting me. mind you this is in front of a 30 person class. then he mutes himself looking smug and i was shocked. thankfully the class was almost over so it ended and I just cried after that. like the job was difficult enough but he just made me feel like total shit. I ended up sending him an email to tell him to come to me privately if he has a problem with me instead of announcing it in front of the entire class. needless to say he never emailed me back instead he apologized to MY PROFESSOR for interrupting class. my friend who was even in the class talked to professor s. about it because people were just so rude to me when I did this job <3 anyways professor s. took my side but I have not forgiven Trent for being such an asshole and not even being apologetic about it like I’m not a human being with feelings

idc if seems like im overreacting and overly sensitive but literally terrible terrible time I hope he rots and his entire bloodline is cursed xoxo

#asks #anon

[lokisprettygirl]

hi i know i havent done this in a while but thought this was long over due so if you still dont mind these, here are my thoughts about tb...

the last few chapters have been nothing short of incredible, i havent interacted much, fault of my own dismay but really the chapters have been an absolute marvel. the twists and the unanswered questions to many many question linger in the air. (pardon me but for some reason i turn very formal for no utter reason)

one question is what happened with the whole bruce and mummy dearest dilema.

i remember there being a loose end concerning steve and co.

but to now talk of the latest chapter if again you dont mind this annoying

i whole heartedly agree the she was being completely irrational but the fact that she knew she did something wrong shows something. and lokis thoughts are completely valid, with everything he's been through, what they've been through, the trauma of what happened last time still haunts him. he doesnt deserve that and im sorry for that darling.

and that sameera woman ughhhhh. for god bloody fucking sakes, she never deserved a space in his mind to occupy let alone his heart. the gull of that whiny idiotic girl boils my blood as she had the shit to say the shit she did after crying to her father that he took her, which caused him to get beaten to an inch of his life. FUCK OFFF you bitchy little girl (i was very tempted to call her a spoiled rich bitch then remembered y/n)

god darling, i really am just sorry. you dont deserve any of this. please wipe the tears that has had no right to cause you any distraught. your feelings are valid but it doesnt mean you deserve to feel the pain you feel. if you cant hold your tears anymore though darling, know that im here to hold you whilst you curse out the world and i will protect you no matter what (wow that got way too personal? not sure if thats the right word)

him being cold to her is albeit a bit rude, is totally understandable. the walls theyve broken down together were coming back up in the moments he thought and did lose her. only for a second though but he did lose her in those few hours and that was just enough time build back those walls up slowly. he still hasnt forgiven her fully hasnt he? but he still loves her enough to ensure that nothing will happen to her and that i believe is real true love. a bit cliché but it is. hes still very guarded now especially with what happened but god the mysteriousness of him is... i just find it rather hot is all

and also that he trusts her enough to know that she isnt like that woman, though he was desperately holding on to that thought, despite the facts, he really loves her does he. to hold on to the belief and hope that she wont leave him despite everything, god i just love him.

why does the mean side of me think that the one he called was bruce and hes taking revenge on her for leaving him in those few moments. its petty and unlikely but my mind is a labyrinth.

i deeply apologize for psycho analyzing your work but its all truly brilliant and if i may be honest hmbomt is still in my mind. im going through withdrawals and the urge to reread it again is very strong and drew to distracting myself to reading lisik.

anyway hope you have a lovely day darling and hope im not a bother

from your lovely 😊❤️ 💜💙💚💛😊

I never mind these dear, you have no idea how happy I feel to get a feedback (the current chapter literally have 0 comments..zero, I was writing the next chapter yesterday and stopped because it got no interaction for hours and it bummed me out) that's not what motivates me to keep going. This does so never be afraid to send me your thoughts, receiving a feedback on something I wrote will never not make me happy,

I like your formal tone 😂

Ohh bruce and her mum will make an appearance soon 👀

Thank you for trying to see the both sides, if I had Loki's traumas and issues and I read that message from her with her being gone, I'd think the worst too. He was just starting to learn to accept the fact that she loves him and not what he can do for her so this definitely wasn't something he needed.

She needs to learn alot about the life and she needs to learn to love herself and she's trying her best, but she got overwhelmed and instead of confining to him she chose to act out because that's what she had done all her life. That's how her life has been like :(

And yes I think he got swept up by her pain and didn't really get to know the person behind those walls, like bad people can get hurt too, they get depressed and they get Suicidal too but at the end it's all about what they can get, it's all about them.

She didn't care about loki, she cared what he was giving her and then once she realised how tough life was outside her mini palace she couldn't survive it.

He's not taking revenge I can assure you that, he's not vengeful type of guy, he did get a phonecall and had to leave but he can't tell her the truth 👀

Thank you for such high praises for HMBOMT, that fic would be the one fic id save if all my fics were dying and I could only save one 😂

Lisik was my first born so writing style isn't the best there but I put all of my ideas in there, so I hope you will enjoy it because I loved writing that baby.

You're never a bother, thank you my lovely 😍💚

#asks #stupidthoughtsinwrting #the bodyguard

[decayingbite]

Can you tell me more about Bite like his habits and stuff. I'm basically asking you to go full ham story mode if you'd like.(it's late here and I like reading about ocs)

sorry it took me so long to get to this! i had a couple of things i needed to get done before i could answer this BUT thank you for enabling me!!! i have so much to talk about with him, when i say he's the most developed oc of mine that i've had in a long time, i mean it. i think i literally have a 4 page long doc talking about how people feel about him alone. so. i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about him

also sylv really plays a very key part in bite's lore like. most of what i have for him in the early days really has to do with their relationship and what that looks like up until they get to the SQ.

EDIT as i work on this: i realize you originally just asked about bite and his habits but good lord i am lore dumping so much. i hope you don't mind.

gonna kind of start out with basics here to get the ball rolling.

his name is bite, he's 21 and transmasc. he goes by he/it and it's the youngest of four. two of his siblings, the twins, play more of a key part in his lore than his oldest sibling does. one day i'll find a way to build grim into the lore as well.

bite starts off in the agency as a simple... 1337 agent. this is kind of where i don't have much on him, but my partner and i are building through this a bit. he's kind of reckless and stupid, but he's mostly content to be in the agency for a while. during this point, he's getting along well with acid and gambit (the twins). he's also seen as a valuable asset because he LOVES being distracting, and it's super hard for the AAHW to really... find another grunt or agent like him. he's not even modified, he's just a normal agent.

but regardless. they see him as useful, and usually, he knows how to keep himself out of trouble when it comes to hank or someone else coming after the AAHW.

at some point, he nearly gets himself killed, and that's when the agency kind of steps in and pairs him up with someone. like i said. they don't wanna lose someone as enthusiastic as him. so they do what they can to keep him alive.

this is also where sylv comes in. sylv is more... stealth. xhe's good at what xhe does. and is very confident. bite's used to working solo. it HATES the idea of having to work in a team or with a partner. it's never been forced to do so before, so why is it being forced to now? it's essentially pissed off about this for a little bit, probably for about a month or so.

during this time, bite's just really rude to sylv. he complains about how he wishes he wasn't forced to be in a team with xer, and he proceeds to try and get on xer nerves.

i think they're working together as a team for a couple months before something clicks in bite's mind and he stops being a complete asshole to sylv. i haven't quite worked on this very much so there's not much to say here.

another few months pass and bite just realizes... maybe it doesn't hate being around sylv. sure, xhe's a little scary and intimidating, but xhe's not... cruel. not bad, not towards it. it starts to connect the dots at this point as well and it clicks in its brain that maybe it could be in love. it ends up spending more time around xer, outside of serious things.

at some point, sylv brings up leaving the agency. things aren't going as well as they were, resources are shit and the longer xhe stays, xhe figures, things will get worse. bite doesn't skip a beat before agreeing to leave with xer. this is a death wish for the two of them, and they know this fully well. but perhaps, death would've been better than the fate they had been forced into.

bite brings this up to acid and gambit. acid lashes out, since he's certain that being with the agency is what's best and that he's following in the steps to make things better. acid's certain that being with the agency is what's right, they have to stop hank somehow.

this is where bite and acid no longer get along. the two of them get into a fight over this, and this is also how bite got its signature scar across its jaw.

after that fight, bite's quiet for awhile. he doesn't talk to acid, gambit, or grim. or even sylv. this lasts a couple of days. it's not until he and sylv have actually left the agency that he even starts getting back to normal. it takes him awhile before he's back to his usual, feral, upbeat self.

that fight also fucked acid over. that made him decide that he wouldn't go easy on bite if he ever saw it again. the two of them... their familial bond was damaged. not quite beyond repair, though. not yet.

bite and sylv spend some time working as a duo, not aligned with anyone. they raid AAHW buildings if they have to, but they're only really doing it to stay alive. they're... not quite close yet, not at this point.

it's also during this period of time that they run into deimos and sanford. sylv was working as backup if needed for a particular building, and bite had gone in alone. he runs into the two of them, and he and deimos panic a bit as they both aim their guns at each other. sanford's the one who stops them and tells them to wait.

they work out a truce for the rest of that building, bite helping them carry out their tasks before leaving. this happens a couple of times.

bite kind of... stops being so bitter after it's happened a couple of times. he softens up a little. this unfortunately ends up being part of his further downfall at a later point.

sometime around then, he and sylv join the SQ. they agree that they're better off working with hank and everyone else, they'll at least have someone backing them up and they won't be forced to endure nevada in the state that it was in by themselves.

it's hard giving like actual periods of time based on canon and episodes (i have to rewatch them cause my memory's a little fuzzy) but i'll probably update this info later.

anyways.

they're in the SQ for a little bit before their paths cross with acid and gambit again. since bite's softened up and doesn't quite hold a grudge against acid as much as before, he has a harder time defending himself when acid goes after him. sylv ends up going for gambit.

acid finally gets to bite, and starts shooting, and the fight ends up going back to where they started. sylv's killed gambit by this point. and acid sees. and god, acid sees. he has to hold himself back from actually approaching sylv and starting to scream. that was his fucking twin. his common sense doesn't last long before he goes back to attacking bite, screaming all the while.

sylv is responsible for getting bite out of there before acid killed it. bite's quiet the entire way back to the SQ base, and that softness that had building back up is now gone. he's quiet for days again. deimos and sanford notice after 2b had finished patching him up and let him leave 2b's office/medical zone.

bite still doesn't talk to anyone. his tail is droopy and nearly drags on the floor during this point. he doesn't eat. he doesn't do much of anything. deimos makes an effort to try to cheer him up, kind of memes around, trying to get bite to at least smile. his efforts don't... go to waste, exactly, but it's the first time bite looks at someone in days. the first time he actually acknowledges the world around him in days.

deimos is proud of himself for this. this is kind of where bite and deimos start truly bonding. and this is also where sanford starts interacting with bite more. things are a little awkward, bite's not really entirely present, but... he's making progress.

bite and deimos also begin smoking together after that. it's deimos that actually brings bite back to reality more and more with each passing day, to everyone's surprise.

things never get back to normal for bite, though. there's a bit of guilt that always haunts him. he never quite finishes adjusting. but he's fine with that, he is. nobody really... pressures him into acknowledging it, except for 2b.

it takes bite a while to open up to 2b at all, and at some point, he begins to find comfort in their conversations. that takes a long, long time though.

if i had to estimate, it takes him maybe a year before he's mostly adjusted. he's kind of back to his usual self. he's upbeat, he jokes with deimos and sanford. he picks some of his more reckless behaviors back up, but he's got sanford and sylv reining him in a bit. at this point he also gets with deimos. it takes a little longer for him to get with sanford. but they kind of... end up in this happy polycule. it's chaotic, sure, but they're happy.

i'm realizing i don't really have much else to say past this point. i haven't developed like anything past this so. if you read this far. i appreciate you. i appreciate your interest in my little guys ghdskjhgskj

i'm also not sorry for how long this post got. i really just went ham. you said i could. so i did.

#answers! #bite (oc) #sylv (oc) #acid (oc) #gambit (oc) #lore dump.txt #the last two are mentioned here because of how they tie into lore as well

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #123

What do you like about the house you live in? I mean, the house itself is nice. But I absolutely despise its location, and the fact our landlord is a very long-time family friend (she was actually mine and my older sister's science teacher in high school, and our families really connected when she met me and I shut the disrespectful-ass class the fuck up for not listening to her)... and it just complicates things. Primarily because Tobey is 500% the person who will NEVER let you forget the great kindnesses she does for you; she wants endless recognition for doing good things. She's can also be REMARKABLY rude, just shoving her nose into business that is never hers, fully intent on giving her uneducated opinion (this woman, who has zero kids, literally asked my mom's former co-worker "shouldn't [your LITERAL INFANT son] not be nursing anymore?", and oh my god Ariel almost fucking decked her). Tobey is just A LOT. My whole family - Mom especially - can barely stand her anymore, but it's not like we can do much when she literally owns the house she doesn't charge full rent for, but only because otherwise we'd still be homeless.

Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? No, and it absolutely does not look fun.

How do you feel today? Tell me about it. I'm okay now, but it's been a tired day. I was physically unable to sleep 'til past 3 AM this morning because I was experiencing a fully active anxiety attack for over an hour, but it'd been building up for more. I had to miss PT today because it was scheduled early and I texted my mom at like, 2 AM telling her to not wake me up because I needed sleep so fucking badly.

Do you ever use a laptop in bed? Not anymore, because I quite literally lived in bed with laptops for many years approaching my trauma, and it was this behavior that caused my leg muscles to eventually atrophy. Nowadays, the mere idea of chilling in bed for just a little while with it makes me freak out, I just can't let myself.

Are you wearing socks right now? What color are they? No; I actually really, really dislike socks. I will only ever wear them if I put on normal shoes, but I almost solely wear flipflops. It's a sensory thing, I just REALLY hate the feeling of them.

Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? No. Financial shit, supposedly Dad cheating on Mom with his now-wife and Dad also being suspicious that SHE was cheating (I'm fully aware she didn't), and Mom has said that he was also making certain sexual demands that led to more fighting. Eventually one day while only Dad and I were home (Mom and Nicole were out of town at a dance competition), he packed a suitcase and just left. I still distinctly remember him peeking into my room and asking if I'd be fine alone, and I said yes because I thought he was just going out to do something and be back. For some dumb fucking reason I didn't immediately figure it out when I saw the suitcase.

Have you ever been evicted? Why? Yes, because Mom couldn't keep up with rent.

Would you say you’re an organized person? For the most part, I think. I've absolutely noticed I've been becoming more organized lately, as well as more attentive to tidying stuff up. Which I'm fucking ecstatic about, because I struggle with that stuff.

Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? Ha, no.

Do you eat at a table or on the couch? Usually the couch, and depending on what we're having we might take out small foldable tables to sit in front of us. We usually only eat at the table for more formal occasions like Christmas, or if we have certain company.

What was the last thing you voted for? Probably a Tumblr poll, haha.

Do you remember much from high school? My memories of high school are, for the most part, almost scarily vivid. I remember the smallest details. My memories of the years with Jason are specifically so aggressively trained into my brain, and we started dating when I was a sophomore. And guess what, I DON'T remember my freshman year all that well.

What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed awake? Why did you do it? Around three days, because I was manic.

Have you ever been wrongfully accused of something? Yeah, I think most people have at some point. Nothing like, criminal, but other things.

What are the five apps on your phone that you use most often? Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Discord.

Would you change your name if you got married? I do plan on taking Girt's surname if we get married, even though I hate his more than I do mine, haha. I just want to. I feel like I would with any other partner too, of any gender.

Were you in any clubs in high school? Yes: Honors and Art Honors. Uh, maybe one more? I can't remember.

Do you share a bathroom with anyone? Yeah. Mom will usually use the one in her room, but sometimes she'll just use the hall one. The hall one is what everyone else uses that comes here, too.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Ohhhh yes. They are honestly one of THE scariest things you can experience. I'm more prone to anxiety attacks, though.

What’s your favourite kind of frosting? It's hard to go wrong with chocolate.

Have you ever taken a painting class? Yes, during my last college attempt. My instructor told me I was really good at it (she said I was one of the class' best, but I think she mighta just been saying that when she learned I might be dropping out), but I definitely begged to differ. I wasn't bad at it, but more than anything I just found painting extremely stressful with how damaging mistakes can be. Yeah, you can wait for something to dry and paint over it, but that doesn't always work and sometimes it's also just very noticeable that you covered something. I felt too much pressure to get everything right. I also HATED that we couldn't like, sketch with a pencil or something first.

Is there a store or restaurant where you’re considered a regular? No.

How old were you when you started wearing a bra, if ever? Oh I don't remember.

What was the last video game you played? Some of the Spyro: Ripto's Rage! remake, quite a while ago. Girt and I have been going back and forth between that and Silent Hill 2, but we haven't played for a lil while. OH, I played World of Warcraft for maybe not even 15 minutes earlier, but that's a computer game. Still a game though, so w/e.

Are there any recipes you really want to try? BROSEPH my sister Misty recently shared a picture + recipe of an alcoholic beverage named after the Aurora Borealis because of the colors and holy FUCKING shit I want to try it. Girt's sister also shares recipes on FB a lot and basically every single one I see I want to try, girl let me move in 😭

Has anyone asked how you feel today? No. Girt pretty much always does at some point, but today's a work day for him so he's busy. He'll be over tonight though.

What’s your favourite cookie? Uh, probably just a soft chocolate chip one.

Do you have a doorbell at your house? Yes.

Have you ever visited someone in a psychiatric home or ward? No, I was always the one being visited. My older sister was in one following an abusive relationship, but I know I never visited. I don't know why... The hospital was far away though, so maybe that. Or I was just scared of mental hospitals because I hadn't been in one yet, but was definitely dealing with mental illness. I would absolutely believe that perhaps I was afraid of it upsetting me too much.

What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? I can't remember what it was called, but it was with Girt and basically told true murder mystery stories. The guy was a great storyteller, I was really into it.

When was the last time you threw up? Why were you sick? It's been years since I actually did, back when I was on a medicine my body really didn't agree with, but not even a week ago I think, I woke up feeling sick as hell and when I actually got up, ended up sitting on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, actively fighting vomiting. Like it was THERE, I just didn't let myself; if I'd accepted "I need to puke" and actually looked at the toilet, I absolutely would've hurled. This happened while I was on my period, and it was THE most aggressively symptomatic period I've had in my *ENTIRE* life, so I blame it entirely on that.

What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? This survey, haha. Because I combine so many, they take a while and I use it to save progress.

Do you know anybody who is gay and married? I'm pretty sure I do? I know he's gay, but I can't remember if he's married... but I think so.

What did you last take painkillers for? A monstrous headache that resulted from extreme stress and anxiety, and then crying too.

Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? ugh I need to start DRAWING again

Have you ever shared a home with a friend? Not legally, but basically, with both Jason (and our two friends that were also a couple) as well as Colleen, each for a few months. I... think, in the apartment w/ Jason case. I really can't remember clearly how long I was there.

Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Well, technically. Sara was an online friend first for a very long time, then we dated long-distance, but we did go on a breakfast date once while I was there.

Do you call it a couch, sofa, lounge or something else entirely? Couch.

When was the last time you used a pair of headphones and what for? Right now; I'm listening to the German version of "Monsoon" by Tokio Hotel. I love the original, but this one is even more beautiful.

What sort of games do you like to play? My absolute favorite is horror games, especially those that are psychological horror, and NEVER shit that is just solely a jumpscare fest. Put some SUBSTANCE into your horror games, man, versus just triggering a natural body reaction to surprise. I also adore games set in a completely fantasy universe; the bigger and more complete the world, + the more unique it is, the better (I think Elden Ring is the best example of this that I've EVER encountered, FromSoft knows how to fuckin do it). I love nostalgia games too, specifically Spyro (honestly, almost ANY game with a big dragon focus are automatic wins for me, haha), and I've invested an insane amount of time (literally over a full year of collective playtime, seeing it makes me want to unalive lmfao) into World of Warcraft, which is an MMORPG. It's the only MMO I've played though BECAUSE of how severely I was once addicted to it; I'm afraid to try any other ones because I never want to relive how dependent I once was on a game. I only got better when I had no choice but to stop for over a year, maybe even near two; even when I first started playing it again, I had anxiety attacks every night for a good few days because I was so scared it was going to happen again, but thank GOD it didn't. I still play it a lot, just because I have such an empty schedule and it's a strong way to kill time, but I'm able to have days where I'm like "eh I don't wanna log on" so don't, and I'm also keen to do other things if something more exciting is presented to me, especially if it involves family or friends. That once wasn't the case.

Have you ever been to a baby shower? What was the baby’s name? Yeah; my sister had one for all of her kids (which she didn't want, but was encouraged by others for various reasons): Aubree, Ryder, and Emerson. I know I also attended my former dance teacher's for her second child, Caydance (yes she literally spelled it that way because of "dance" lmfao), and MAYBE her first, Colton, but I don't remember it. Then there was Jenn's, Jason's brother's wife, for their first son I'm still fucking devastated I never got to meet and love, Dominic. I was lucky I even got to go to it, because Jason and I had already broken up very recently. That day was honestly awful because I learned he was already talking to another girl <333333 I think that's everyone's I've been to.

What mode of transport did you take to high school? Mom drove us.

Name a personality trait of yours that you like. I cherish and am very thankful that I'm deeply empathetic.

Name something about your physical attraction that you dislike. More than anything else, my weight. I don't inherently think fat people are ugly, at all, but of COURSE I think so for myself.

What gifts do you usually receive at Easter? Just some candies from Mom. I'm sure she'll get a Voltage for me too, because of how I've been avoiding soda but always miss it.

Who was the last person you sent an email to? It was just a link for my mom to look at.

Are there any posters in your bedroom? Yes, but I'm probably taking them all down (maybe I'll keep the meerkat one up) when I FINALLY redecorate my room to a more minimal, nature theme. Before that happens though, I honestly need more decor to prevent my room from being depressingly blank.

Do you know anyone who is an actor? Pretty sure no? I feel like I know at LEAST one person who's been in a small project or something, but definitely no bigger actors.

How many weddings have you been to? Bobby (brother) and his ex-wife Scarlet's, Randi (another - and my favorite - dance teacher) & Shane's, Jonathan & Jenn's, and uh... I feel like that's it? At least, as far as attending on a personal level. I did take pictures of my sister's friend Meg's wedding, as well as this random bitch named Shonda's who never paid me more than the $15 sitting fee (and I shot the whole-ass wedding process from preparation to finish while dying of dehydration in the summer hell-heat and did entirely thorough postproduction, YES I'm still fucking salty), as well as Bethany & Spencer's, a brilliant couple who's had me take a lot of pictures. Besides Ashley, they were THE most supportive people of getting my name out there as a photographer, and they actually learned about me through Ash.

Do you watch YouTube? What channels do you like? LITERALLY constantly, haha. I'm either watching something on the side or have music on. These days I've been most into watching Game Grumps, John Wolfe, WoolieVS, jacksepticeye, and Gab Smolders, but I enjoy SO many more.

What’s your alcohol of choice? Fruity, sweet stuff, like sangrias. There can't be a strong alcohol concentration, because that taste is total shit.

Have you ever used a public pay phone? No.

Do you have a Twitter account? It EXISTS, but is only ever used for like, giveaway stuff if there's one shown on a different social platform that I'm VERY into. That kinda stuff doesn't even happen once a year, probably.

What’s the longest you’ve been without showering? As someone who struggles with this, especially before I had a shower chair, I'm not comfortable sharing this.

Name one of your guilty pleasure songs. Y'all I fuckin love "Flesh" by Simon Curtis 😭😭😭 and honestly a lot of Hot songs slowed down w/ reverb help me PLEASE

Have you ever made an item of clothing? No.

What was the last topic you read about? Various social justice statistics.

Name some of your favourite sitcoms. That '70s Show is #1, but other notable ones I enjoy are The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, The Addams Family, The Beverly Hillbillies, and I Love Lucy. Most of those I was kinda raised with by watching with my mom. <3

Who is the 7th contact in your phone and how did you meet them? [TW: RAPE] Katie. She's my mom's oldest child. I can't remember how old I was when I actually met her though; Mom had to pretty much give Katie up for adoption because she was alone and couldn't care for her (after being kicked out of her home because she was literally drugged and date-raped out of wedlock, her mom was fuckin' peachy), and it was only later in life when Katie was an adult that I met her. I don't remember it at all, though.

What shirt do you wear the most? If they're clean, my go-to tank tops are generally either of my candy skull ones; I'm almost always in tank tops because that's what I sleep in. If we're talking NORMAL shirts, definitely my "equal in our bones" Cloak one.

Has anyone ever come out to you? Yes, an old school friend. I don't remember her name anymore.

Have you ever been part of a bridal or groom’s party? My sister's, yes. Idk if this counts as being in their party, but at Jonathan & Jenn's wedding, I was seated at the main table with Jonathan's family, beside Jason. Actually this reminded me, the picture that was used for their mother's obituary was a shot from the wedding, of her smiling and dancing, and you can see me seated there in the background. Seeing that picture on Facebook basically stabbed me in the fucking heart, like it physically hurt, because it reminded me that I was once there in her life, but wasn't any longer. I think I'm going to die grieving the fact I never got to tell her goodbye.

Are there any rooms in your house that don’t have windows? Yes, both bathrooms.

What’s your go-to order from KFC? I don't go there.

What was the last album you listened to in full? Uh I'm not sure, but probably one of Rammstein's when I decided to go through their entire discography lmfao

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

[claireunoia]

GAME-OVER ➪ REMUS LUPIN

⊱✿⊰ synopsis : you’ve been playing video games with james all day and remus has had enough ♡.

⊱✿⊰ pairings : gamer!fem!reader x remus x a bit of james

⊱✿⊰ word count : 1.3k

⊱✿⊰ warnings : SMUT, cunnilingus/oral (fem receiving), james and reader friendly bickering over the game, language, dirty talking, established relationship, the usual d/s dynamics, lots of pet names, “bunny, darling, baby” etc, reader being ate out in a chair, softie remus for a second, that’s it?

❥ ─ author’s letter to you : ❝hi bby’s!! this literally came into my mind suddenly and couldn’t get it out so i had to write it. i’m so sorry for posting this without a read more, it was acting up again so i had to remove it, once again i apologize. i love y’all, hope you enjoy <333 *reblogs & comments are so very appreciated*❞

☁︎ masterlist | navigation ☁︎

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆

➙ “𝗡𝗢, jamesie! that’s not how you build!”

it felt like your little shouts of sudden frustration and victorious shrieks were on a constant repeat in remus’s brain as time kept going by and by. he's sat and stared at you for what felt like the past dramatically, 1000 hours.

and there goes your oh-so perfect self right a few feet ahead of remus. your slacked body sat comfortably in your gaming chair while your skilled fingers moved sharply and precisely along and all around your keyboard. with the exception of a beautiful pink headset perched on the top of your head that remus had gifted you a while ago.

“james, you’re being a dummy—“

“watch yourself, bunny. don’t be rude to prongs, he doesn’t know”at your boyfriends warning tone and words you huffed almost dramatically, scowling when you heard james teasing voice echo throughout the ears of your headset.

“yeah y/n, be nice or i’ll purposely make us lose, rage quitter”

the gasp that left your mouth was loud enough to make remus’s ear quite literally bleed. the alarming sound made the brunette boy jump up from his position in the bed to see if you suddenly gotten hurt or something. he rose up to only find your lips formed in the biggest pout in all humanity and an accusing look written all over your face.

“remmy! james— he called me a freaking rage quitter, i am not a rage quitter” the sigh remus let out held nothing but complete and utter disappointment, with a shake of his head he waved you off. Going back to the chapter he left off in his book, he felt his eyes wanting to roll when he heard you beginning to go back and forth with the glasses wearing boy on the PC once more.

the lycanthrope felt like his body was heating up with massive waves of heat as the raging boner he’s been trying his best to compose for the past hours ache in want. he just wants to make his girl feel good and himself but you were just so stuck on that game. it has truly made him a bit grumpy.

it’s not like he has a problem with you being a gaming-head. in fact he loved and supported you always, it’s just that he despises when you play for so many hours and never wanting to get up to do anything. remus had a very, very large soft spot for you. so whenever you pull the “just one last round, baby” with those wide, crystal like eyes of yours, he has no choice but to cave in and let you

and that’s exactly what’s happening now.

“bunny, come on. time to get off” remus announces gruffly, hands fideling with his little bookmark. marking the last page he had read in his current reads before getting up from his spot on the bed to walk up to your focused form at the desk. as soon as he saw your pout and quick turn of your head, he immediately tsks.

“no, baby. cmon’ tell jamie bye bye, tell em’ y’ll be online tomorrow” and right on cue your whines find its way into the air. doe eyes peering up pleadingly at your tall boyfriend. “remmy, please. just one last round, i promise!” at your familiar words remus entire face turns stern, his orbs now glaring with a warning stare which you quickly stand down from.

“y’either turn this game off, or let james hear how m’about to ruin you” remus beautifully scarred face was completely blank as if the words that left his mouth weren’t shocking to ones ears at all. his lips pulled ever so slightly at the corners when he saw your flabbergasted look, seeing how your fingers raced to sloppily turn off the party you were hosting with a quick “see you later” hurrying from you as well. now it was just you and remus. no more games, no more james, no more of your raging shouts.. just you and your horny as fuck boyfriend who looked like he was ready to pounce you at any second.

“take off y’shorts and hold y’legs up. keep them nice and wide open f’me darling” listening to his words with an obedient nod of your head which remus couldn’t help but smile at, you began pulling down the pajama shorts off and down your legs like so. moving back in your spot in the small chair and pulling your legs up and holding them back just like remus had asked. once you were positioned, you then reached up to remove the pink headset off your head aswell, but came to an abrupt stop when you saw the movement of your lover’s head shake side to side.

“keep it on” he replies to your confused expression with a smirk twitching at his soft lips while so. you obeyed and moved your hands back down to grip the undersides of your silky thighs, plump lips jutting out unconsciously as you watched the sight of remus drop down to his knees right in front of you.

he looked so beautiful. taking note of how his irises were blown with a great quantity of pure lust. taking in how unruly his chestnut locks were ruffled on the top of his head. noticing just how good he truly looks in the brown cable-knit sweater that adored his lean body. but little did you know, remus was studying you as well. his intense eyes littering all along your body as he rubbed his large scarred hands along the expanse of your inner thighs, his fingers dangerously close to your clothed core.

“rem, you’re s’pretty” you whispered breathlessly even though remus didn’t even start doing anything yet.

but in the next passing second, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat at the view of remus’s teeth on display. a warm smile etching across his lips at your soft praise, unable to not break through the strict façade he’s put on at your such adorable words.

unexpectedly, the hand that was rubbing along your thigh went up to the seam of your thin panties and pulled roughly, ripping the clothing away from you easily. his brown eyes gleaming up at yours lovingly before flickering down to your now bare cunt with a chuckle. “why thank you, bunny. but m’not as pretty as you fucking are”

and with that remus dove into your enchanting wonderland with eager movements. the warm, wet muscle of his tongue immediately running over your wetting puffy lips, licking all up til he reaches your clit. placing a wet peck at the button of nerves, all the while basking in the sounds of your moans. not fighting the low chuckles that keep escaping him while he eats you out, which were only causing you more pleasure as they vibrated against you so deliciously.

“hm, i bet you don’t wanna play any more games now huh?” at the boy’s words you shake your head frantically, the feeling of him licking and slurping away at your pussy quickly makes your head swirl and dose off into a fuzzy space while you continuously whine and whimper loudly into the air.

“n-no, remmy! wan’ you to keep going, don’t stop” you meekly whine, your face scrunching up in pure pleasure as remus kept lapping you up. remus peers up at your blissed out, gorgeous features. your eyes beginning to roll up into the back of your head, the pretty pink headset still perched on the top of your head and over your ears. god, you look like a perfect slutty mess in his eyes. little coos fell from his spit covered lips as he analyzed you.

“aw baby, what don’t y’want me to stop doing? use your words, bunny”

the only sounds in the room were your shrieking mewls and the obscene sounds of remus pleasing you. the wolf’s fingertips now prodding at your leaking hole, his tongue never halting it’s assault on your poor clit

“please don’t stop eating my pussy, rem”

“good girl, my perfect darling”

-

*follow my library account @rileybinaalibrary & turn on notifications to know whenever i post a fic <3*

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #remus smut #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #hp fandom #marauders era smut #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #remus x james

[seiyasabi]

Idolised

(Here’s a Yandere Todo Aoi x Female Reader story :P I wrote up the layout for this a while ago, and I’m currently madly in love w him, so here we are! 

Thank you all so much for your support and being so understanding of my situation. I love you all so much ;)

TW: !noncon/dubcon!, !Has a whole ass shrine dedicated to you, you literally don’t know he exists lmao, !claims he's ur bf to everyone, manipulation!, intimidation!, sort of kidnapping!, !forced cunnilingus!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution!)

“(Your Name)-Chan, why didn’t you tell us that you have a boyfriend?” You slowly stop chewing, chopsticks going slack in your hand. Eyes darting towards your friend Mika, you raise an unamused eyebrow. 

“What are you talking about, Mika-Chan? I don’t have a boyfriend,” All of your girlfriends look at each other, unbelieving of your claim. All giggle, thinking that you’re just being shy. 

“Ne~ don’t be coy! It’s okay to tell us about your boyfriend! From the pictures I’ve seen, he’s quite handsome, huh?” At this point, you’re completely confused. Are they pranking you? You don’t have a boyfriend! 

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about-“ The seat next to you slides out, and a hulking figure plops itself down on the wooden chair, the wood creaking horrifically underneath their weight. 

Their arm wraps around the back of your own chair, practically engulfing you in the crook of their enormous elbow, “Hey, Pretty Girl. I’m sorry that I’m late, you know how late my classes run sometimes.” 

You’re too scared to even turn towards the large man, choosing instead to look at your friends with a horrified expression. They don’t notice it, too busy ogling at the apparent eye candy next to you, “Uhm, I’m sorry, but who are you? And why do they think that you’re my boyfriend?” An awkward silence immediately follows after, the man’s hand gripping the wood behind you so hard that it creaks. 

He forces a deep laugh, which sounds quite menacing. He moves his hand onto your back, his warm palm felt through your stylish top, “You’re so funny, (Nickname)-Chan! It’s alright, you don’t need to hide me anymore. I messaged your girls last week, they know about us.” 

“Yeah, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We think you’re both so adorable,” They practically fawn over the two of you, trying to push you closer into each other’s arms. The man next to you takes this in stride, practically hauling your chair up next to his. His arm is now fully around you, as you lean in close to your hair and neck. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied grunt rumbling through his chest. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, (Your Name)-Chan. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow my every whim,” Tears of fear and anxiety bead your eyes, which your friends take as relief that you’re no longer hiding away from them. 

“Don’t cry, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We all support you wholeheartedly!” 

The rest of the lunch consisted of you being extremely uncomfortable, and your closest friends being none the wiser. Somehow, they don’t notice how you constantly inch away from him, only to be dragged back to his side. Somehow, they don’t know how he’s whispering mild threats into your ear. 

But, through this time, you learned the name of your so-called ‘boyfriend.’ Todo Aoi, the beast currently keeping you glued to your seat in fear. He’s so much bigger than you, so much faster, seemingly so much smarter. 

“Bye, (First Name)-Chan, Bye, Todo-Kun! It was nice to meet you!” Your friends wave the two of you off, one of his large hands securely on the small of your back. His grip is bruising, controlling. Todo practically pushes you towards an unknown destination, your body only able to continue forward, whether you wanted it to or not. 

“I’m proud of you, (First Name)-Chan. I knew my girl was smart, beautiful, and capable. This just proved it to me,” A small whimper escapes your throat, as fresh tears bead your eyes. 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?” A booming laugh is heard, practically shaking the ground below you, causing you to flinch. 

“Why am I doing this? Well, I’m doing this, because I love you. I want us to be together, so we’re going home,” He says this as if it solved all of your problems. 

“But we don’t know each other, why even bother-“ 

“We know each other. I saved your life, remember?” For the first time tonight, you look at him. His distinct scar immediately catches your attention- this man did, in fact, save your life. Two months prior, someone or something shoved you onto some train tracks, right in front of an oncoming train. In a mere moment, the bulky man grabbed you from the tracks, and hopped back up onto the platform, effectively saving your life. 

“I-Bu-But what? We met only once, and-“ He shushes you, forcing you closer to his side, his entire hand practically engulfing your waist. 

“There’s no need to worry. In that Moment, I knew that you were meant to be my beautiful Princess. You need me to care for you, and I’m up for the task.” 

“Princess? Sir, I think you need help! We’ve only talked once, and while I’m grateful for you saving my life, I think this is excessive! Please let me go!” 

He ignores you, sighing dreamily about what the two of you will get up to. Todo couldn’t wait to add more to your shrine at home! He’ll be sure to get as much dirty clothes, used tissues, and everything else he could ever want! 

Forcing you into an upper class loft building, he guides you by the small of your spine into a lift, disregarding the old woman inside. She looks at you as if the both of you are the most adorable couple she’s ever seen, making you shift in discomfort. Todo takes it in stride, practically preening under her gaze, but pretending it has no effect on him. 

He nonchalantly presses his floor’s number, before placing that hand on your hip, and rubbing it in circular motions. You try to move away from him, but his grip is solid. 

Before long, the lift stops on his floor, and he pushes you out. You stumble into the area outside of his front door- his home being the only one on the entire floor. The door itself has a pin pad on its handle, which he quickly typed in, once he’s directly in front of it, leading you to believe that there’s most likely a second pin pad on the other side. 

Once you hear the click of the door being unlocked, Todo moves away from the entryway, and motions you inside, “Go ahead, Princess.” 

In a Moment of defiance, you shake your Head no, “I think this has gone on long enough,” His eyes narrow slightly, yet you continue, practically shaking in your shoes, “I-I don’t want to go inside. Please let me go home.” 

His booming laughter fills the small space, as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re adorable, (Nickname)-Chan! Now, go inside before I become angry.” The bite in his final words forces you forward, into his dark flat. 

He flicks on the light switch the moment you step inside, momentarily blinding you. Once you’re able to blink away the dots swimming in your vision, you’re greeted with a fairly normal sight. The living room, kitchen, and dining room are conjoined in an open concept, making the large place seem even larger. Two hallways branch off on either side of the large room, most likely leading to a master, a guest room, bathroom, and an office. 

“What do you think? I read in a magazine that women like clean homes, so I deep clean this flat at least once a week.” 

You aren’t sure what to say, but you nod along anyway, “Yes, it’s very nice.” He beams down at you, cheeks practically stretching to the fullest extent. 

“This shows that I know how to make women happy! I believe that’s a redeeming quality,” You awkwardly give him the side eye, “Oh, don’t look at me like that, silly girl! I have many more redeeming qualities if that one isn’t good enough. Now,” He clasps your shoulder with a large hand, “Why don’t I show you our bedroom?” 

“Our?” Your eyes are practically bugging out of your skull, as he nods gleefully. 

“We’re a couple, aren’t we? And couples share everything with each other.” 

With that, he practically drags you down the left hallway. There’s only one door at the end of the hall, signalling that this is the master bedroom. With one hand, he pushes open the door, before coaxing you inside. His hand that was previously on your shoulder migrates to the bottom of your spine. The room is a mixture of black and your favourite colour, showcasing that this room is the both of yours. 

The bed is quite large, most likely to accommodate your large captor and yourself, “I thought you’d like that your favourite colour is in here.” 

You say nothing, tears beading your eyes. You wring your hands in anxiety, as he leads you to the bed. He sits you down on the edge, before kneeling in front of you. Todo leans forward, resting on your thighs, all whilst still practically towering over you even when sitting. 

“Why’re you crying, Princess? There’s no reason to,” He swipes under your eye the moment the first tear falls. 

“Why am I crying? You must be joking! You-you just kidnapped me!” He shushes you once more, causing a spark of anger to course through you. He hasn’t listened to a single complaint you’ve voiced! “Stop doing that! It’s rude! I’m allowed to be upset-“ 

With two massive hands, he forces your thighs open, “I know your work has you stressed, Pretty Girl- why don’t you let me calm you down?” He pushes his hands up your thighs, your skirt barely covering your pussy,  allowing his thumbs to ghost over your panty clad cunny. 

You try to thrash out of his hold, pushing against his hands, “No! Let go of me!” Your thrashing does nothing, as just the weight of his forearms we’re enough to press your thighs to the bed. His left hand rubs against your clit and hole, trying to make you as wet as possible. You try to push against his forearms, but he presses down harder. 

His thumb rubs fluidly over your clit in an even pressure. Your hips press up, trying to buck him off, but it only causes him to press down harder. In no time, you’re growing wet against his ministrations. You choke back your whines, smacking his arms, before pushing against his head which hovers just above your cunt. 

“Do you feel that, Princess? You’re getting so wet!” He suddenly presses his open mouth against your mound, tongue matching pace with his thumb. A moan escapes your throat before you can stop it, halting the large man in his tracks. You sound so perfect to him! 

In one swift motion, he yanks your panties down your legs, and tosses them onto the mattress beside you. You try to close your legs, but it’s no use. I’m seconds, he has your thighs presses as far open as they can go, and his face is buried in your pretty cunny. His tongue dips into your folds, savouring your taste, before flicking against your clit. 

His tongue rubs against your clit in swift, smooth motions, quickly causing you to grow wetter than before. Your slick drips down your cunny, coating your ass and inner thighs. More moans escape your mouth, as you writhe against him. 

“Sto-Stop! Oh my god-“ He gives a small laugh at your begs, eating you out faster than before. Loud slurps and ‘mms’ are heard throughout the room, as you quickly go over the edge. Your juices squirt out of your cunny, coating his chin and his shoulders in slick. A loud keen is heard throughout the room. 

The mixture of your wonderful cum and loud moans causes the large man to bust a load in his pants. He groans against you, causes your thighs to tremble in overstimulation. Todo removes himself from your pussy (not before licking up as much slick as possible), and smiles up at you. 

“You’re so wonderful, (Nickname)-Chan! I should’ve done this sooner!” 

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo aoi x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere todo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[snackhobi]

this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested.  It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose  at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.) 

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.) 

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist. 

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle. 

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.) 

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back. 

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power. 

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it. 

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

 “Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall. 

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond. 

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it. 

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron. 

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi. 

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner.  There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.  

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway. 

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out. 

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot. 

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire. 

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway. 

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary. 

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. 

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting. 

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you. 

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else. 

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it. 

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright. 

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you. 

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.) 

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung. 

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth. 

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to. 

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up. 

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say. 

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really. 

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists. 

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.” 

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor. 

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn. 

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed. 

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad. 

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

“I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee. 

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is. 

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

 “Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say. 

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all. 

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice. 

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity. 

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think. 

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand. 

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?” 

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say. 

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​ @vensulove

#btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #houseofddaeng #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts #yoongi au #bts au #yoongi #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #PLEASE feel free to message me with any typos or whatever and I'll get on those when I have a chance

[loueeki]

Wtf why do u hate mayor Lewis sm? He's literally a good mayor and does so much for the village?

I HAVE SO MANY REASONS

get ready for my small essay if i sound rude here i’m not being rude i promise i just HATE HIM and also my grammar is AWFUL like real bad so excuse that

firstly I DO EVERYTHING FOR HIM, yet again i do his job every single day fixing the whole town paying for everything while he sits on his arse and does nothing but fuck with marines feelings!? like she deserves so much better man!! he uses his job as an excuse to not commit to marine he’s literally just dragging her along and playing with her feelings

i had to restore the whole community center AND HE SAYS LITERALLY NOTHING ABOUT IT i got awarded with a trophy that looks like vincent sculpted it in his fucking art class with penny (it’s got a tiny amount of gold in it cos we all know where the rest of the gold went to *ahem* lewis statue), like come on man he barely even thanks me “it looks better then ever” LEWIS I LITERALLY REPAIRED A BUS A QUAREY BRIDGE A WHOLE FUCKING BUILDING AND EVERYTHING AND HE SAYS NOTHING ABOUT IT ok sorry that part just annoys me cos like, he could at least come to the farmer and thank them or ask if he needs to contribute anything (which he never does he contributes nothing to the town) and i have put thousands into the town while he sits back and claims he’s a great mayor and he does so much, no lewis you organise the egg festival once a year that is doing nothing to help society

he also claims the town is great yet he is literally giving into joja? as a mayor shouldn’t he be trying to fight back? the whole town is a literal mess he’s completely blind to what’s going on behind the scenes or he just doesn’t care enough to do anything about it (also the minecarts and transportation is all fucked?)

yet he takes credit for everything like the special orders notice board ROBIN DID ALL THE WORK and he gets mad when she calls him out on claiming he helped, like no lewis you are useless

ALSO, why do i have to do his dirty work? i dont want to pick up his dirty boxers from the floor SPECIFICALLY MARNIES FLOOR (why cant he do that himself!?) like ok lewis we all know what you’ve been up to then

AND AFTER THAT HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO MAKE ME BRING HIM TRUFFLE OIL BUT TO NOT ASK ANY QUESTIONS like this is so DODGY and i wont forget the time i shook the bush for a suprise at midnight and caught him and marine doing fuck knows what in A BUSH (I REPEAT THE MAYOR THE FUCKING MAYOR WAS IN THE BUSH DOING SOME DODGY SHIT)

and it’s the fact he doesn’t care about the town falling apart only his social status and that everything will go to shit if the town find out about him and marine, ok lewis i’m glad that’s where your priorities stand

he doesn’t really seem to care for his citizens either? like shane? he’s suffering lewis but everything’s going great right? pam? pams not in a great place either but that’s not his problem is it? he sees the town as perfect and nothing wrong with it, and the poor kids, i get its a small town BUT THEY NEED A SCHOOL especially when possible spoiler here leo joins as well, he cant just put the constant stress onto penny, she’s young she shouldn’t have to waste all her time teaching kids even if she does say she doesn’t mind

and don’t get me started on the golden piss station (the fucking gold statue) we all know why lewis collects taxes ITS TO MAKE SOME SORT OF SEXY SOLID GOLD STATUE OF HIMSELF TO GIFT TO MARNIE AND HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO GET MAD AT ME FOR FINDING IT?

he also bribes the farmer with money to do all these things, maybe put the money into the town? help fix some things up?

UH OK I THINK THATS MY MASSIVE RANT OVER IM PROBABLY MISSING THINGS MAYBE I AM OVERREACTING BUT I JUST CANT LIKE HIM IVE TRIED I SWEAR I HAVE

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv lewis #mayor lewis #stardew

[amakumos]

enhypen playing genshin ― ot7.

genre: crack maybe?? these r just headcanons lol authors note: because i love genshin and enha... i made this. feel free to tell me ur opinions as well!! also tell me who u main and what ar u are.. im a kazuha main n im ar56😈

HEESEUNG. 

this man. he’s either a raiden or eula main. 

actually i can see him maining diluc as well tbh

fucking oneshots everything?? 

he’s basically tony to. big dmg numbers, god tier artifacts, and.. he probably is a huge whale. think ... tuonto whaling for c6 ei vibes. except he does that with every banner

probably the guy everyone goes to for advice on how to make their builds better. he’d also tell u to just watch while he completely obliterates everything in the artifact domains for u 

hes that one guy who uses primogems to swap to resin and has like 100 fragile resin 

probably successfully soloed azhdaha with his dps.

he’s probably.. ar60..... 

JAY.

i can see him being a light spender, only buying genesis crystals when he rlly wants a character.

probably a xiao main (he definitely mains one of the liyue big 3) 

probably has primordial jade winged spear... 

artifact luck is mediocre but his gacha luck?? fucking insane 

probably got his favourite character at 9 pity (give me ur luck i am TIRED of getting characters at soft pity)

has never lost a 50/50 because he is mhy’s favourite

does big dmg numbers but absolutely despises abyss, he will not do it even if he gets primogems

speedruns new areas bc he likes exploring the map 

probably ar55 

JAKE.

do i even need to explain?? this man mains CHILDE.

u know how childe never crits even with like 50% crit rate?? that’s why jake gave him 90% crit rate. 

his childe’s crit ratio probably makes everyone jealous. its like 90% to 125% smth. 

LOVES CO-OP!! he does all his domains in co-op bc he probably likes making new friends (jake if u play genshin pls co op w me)

probably bangs on his keyboard when he gets a shit artifact

knows every word to the tar tar taglia song. (tartartaglia lover of snezhnayan queen)

probably didnt find out about talents until ar35

currently ar45 with like 100k exp over the amount but hes not bothered to do the ascension quest

SUNGHOON.

100% mains a cryo character, probably ayaka

doesn’t play often but when he does he literally plays for hours

probably follows leakers bc he’s saving his primogems for someone he rlly rlly wants

i think. his favourite harbinger is scaramouche 

never plays in co-op. unless its with the other members

has never needed to go back to the blizzard strayer domain due to the amount of times he’s done it to get artifacts for his main

his only properly built characters r his two dps for abyss. his supports r all like lv70 with half leveled artifacts 

but somehow can do abyss up to floor 12??? even with his half built supports?? but he did floor 12 once and he got so stressed he rage quit the game

probably ar50

SUNOO.

MAINS THE CHARACTERS THAT MANY PEOPLE DIDN’T PULL FOR. like kokomi and yoimiya 

loves playing co-op and being the healer. not just bc he thinks its helpful for the others but he likes to think abt how his teammate’s health is in his hands... so if ur rude to him .... he’s not healing u 😁

loves collecting namecards and changing his profile bc he thinks its cute

TEAPOT DECORATOR. his teapot is so beautiful like - you’d probably think he’s an interior designer

does decent dmg, the only reason why he isn’t doing super super super big numbers is bc of his artifact luck T_T (sunoo i will give u all my good artifact pieces.. even if i only have 2) 

doesn’t like killing slimes bc theyre too cute. thats why he buys slime condensate from paimons bargains

has made kokomi crit before. he is the number 1 kokomi enthusiast.

probably around ar50 as well 

JUNGWON.

to be honest i think he’d be a yanfei main!! but if we’re talking abt 5 stars, then he’s a kazuha main!

loves exploring the map and gets excited when opening luxurious chests T_T (hes so CUTE)

INVESTED IN THE LORE. probably thinks of theories abt whats happening w celestia and everything 

if you’d ask him to help u a quest with smth he would Not hesitate because he’s done all of them. 

more invested in the lore and playing the game than the gacha aspect of it, probably has like 24k primogems

f2p. he’s not those like “f2p btw😆😆😆👍” people, he’s just never thought about spending money on it bc. he doesn’t want to

doesnt even try making his builds good but does 100k+ dmg. hes just that lucky w artifacts?? he probably googles “best builds for __” and then farms the set. and then. boom. big dmg 

ar48 probably. that was specific 

NI-KI

HU TAO MAIN. he has staff of homa and everything and got her to c1 

burns grass when playing with others in co-op to decrease their health. 

loses every single 50/50 to diluc. thats why he has c4 diluc im sorry riki 

yells out loud whenever he dies 

wants qiqi solely for the purpose of putting her and hu tao on the same team. but he has never gotten her (probably jealous of tuonto and his c16 qiqi) 

never saves reckless pallad (but tbh does anyone) 

likes using jean to throw other people who hes co oping with off high mountains. 

he’s like heeseung - oneshots everything. highest dmg is around one million smth. the both of them probably compete to see who can get the highest dmg w the same character 

LOVES INAZUMA DO I NEED TO SAY MORE :(( his exploration there is 100% and he has mastered all the inazuma recipes 

ar59. he is so close to ar60 tho 

#enhypenwriters #ficscafe #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #heeseung headcanons #jay headcanons #jake headcanons #sunghoon headcanons #sunoo headcanons #jungwon headcanons #ni-ki headcanons #heeseung scenarios #jay scenarios #jake scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunoo scenarios #jungwon scenarios #ni-ki scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen crack #enhypen #genshin headcanons

[thefandomstorage]

Consort AU

The Consort AU is my main Sorsef AU where Soren and Kasef get married and thus, as his husband, Soren becomes Prince Consort. 

That’s the tldr of it. 

Be warned, this is very long.

Timeline

-S3 happens.

-After the battle, Soren finds a heavily injured and scarred but back to relative normal Kasef. And because he’s not a complete degenerate and feels morally obligated, Soren takes him back to the others and gets him help.

-At first, Kasef is like how he was in S3. Rude, arrogant, and dismissive, especially to Soren. But despite that, Soren doesn’t stop visiting him. And talking to him. 

-Kasef would usually either ignore him or say something that causes an argument. Kasef would resist his attempts to help and Soren being frustrated by his stubbornness. They often butt heads, sometimes literally. 

Callum calls them “The Bulls”. ‘The Bulls are fighting again.”

-But eventually, over time, Kasef stops resisting so much and Soren sees that in reality, Kasef is just a boy who just wants to prove himself to his father, siblings, and his country and prove that he can be a capable leader.

Soren very much relates to that and explains that he became a Crownguard mostly because he thought it would make his father proud of him. And it did, for a while. But eventually, it wore off and his dad slipped back into apathy.

-They basically have a heart to heart convo where they reveal their inner selves and see how similar they are yada yada Y’all know the deal.

-Afterwards, there’s a shift in the dynamic and relationship between the two. ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, BABY!

Note: Kasef has lightning/crack like scars on the left side of his body, including his face, his left eye is permanently red and black like it was during his lava monster state and he still has some sun magic residue inside him that hasn’t left his body because of his injury. His scars and eye glow whenever he feels strong emotions like anger

-Whenever Kasef is feeling upset or self conscious about his scars, Soren would cheer him up and try to distract him.

-”I think they make your rugged looks more...uh...ruggedy!”

-Believe it or not, that actually startled a laugh from Kasef. The first laugh Soren ever heard from Kasef. And Soren found he really really likes the sound of it and how Kasef looks while laughing.

So he makes it his goal to make Kasef laugh more often. Cue him making more terrible jokes and reading him wacky poetry. Kasef tries not to laugh or smile at it, but he always fails anyway.

-Everybody else except these two can easily see the attraction building up between them and are already placing bets who says “I love you” first. Rayla and Callum say Soren, Ezran and Amaya say Kasef.

 -Soren helps Kasef with his physical therapy (Its not called that, but that’s what it is). He distracts Kasef from his frustration at his slow progress by telling him stories of his childhood. Which encouraged Kasef to also trade childhood stories and life in Neolandia

- “You have 5 sisters?! How did you survive?” 

“I was fighting for my LIFE everyday in that palace.”

- “Your sister made you croak like a frog for 2 days?!” 

“Claudia screwed up that spell. And I was the dummy right next to her.”

-When it is announced that the humans were returning to their respective kingdom and Kasef was going to have to be escorted home, Of course, Soren volunteered to do so.

-”No way am I letting an injured friend travel to Neolandia by himself! I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not.” “It will be a long journey, Soren. Will you be able to handle-Wait......You pronounce Neolandia, right.”

“.....”

“......”

“Okay, so I may have partially lied a little bit-”

“YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY IT THE WHOLE TIME?!”

“Not the whole time. The first time was real. But I really liked the sound of your voice and the way you said it, so I just kept doing it.”

“You like my voice?”

“.....”

-Callum has his hand over Rayla’s mouth because she’s trying to scream “Get a room and kiss already!”

-So the idiot duo separate from the group and make the journey to Neolandia. Which I believe would take a good couple of weeks, maybe about 2-3 months.

-Along the way, Kasef teaches Soren about Neolandia culture.

Note: I base Neolandia off of and take inspiration from the Ottoman Empire. 

- “So everyone has to cover their hair during important ceremonies?”

“Yes. As a sign of cleanliness and respect.”

“What about people with beards? Do they have to cut it off? Or do they certain hats that cover beards?”

“....No, Soren. They don’t have to cover or cut them off. They are the exception to the rule.”

-After months, they finally reach the capital city of Neolandia, where Kasef’s younger sister, Princess Zahide, was acting as regent ever since Kasef left.

-Family reunion! and by family reunion, I mean, 2 hours of Kasef being yelled at by all 5 of his sisters. His older and younger sisters. While Soren just stood awkwardly off to the side, knowing better than to get involved in a family tear in.

-But in the end, the family makes up and hug it out and the sisters tell him that they have missed him and are glad that he returned home alive. And he is happy to be home.

-He then introduces Soren to his family. Oldest to youngest: Princess Esma, Princess Refia, Princess Zahide, Princess Atike, and Princess Hatice.

-The girls are surprised that their dumb asf brother managed to befriend not only a Katolian, especially after that political disaster of a stunt, but a Crownguard too. But they happily welcome him to their home.

-”Well, if you managed to deal with our brother for so long, you must have the patience of a saint and an iron will, so you’ll fit right in here!”

“Refia!”

“What? It’s true. We should know, we had to deal with you our entire lives.”

-Soren spends the next few weeks living with the Neolandian Royal Family and learning about and exploring Neolandia. He spends more time bonding with Kasef and the sisters and learning about them individually.

-NEOLANDIA WORLDBUILDING

-MORE KASEF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

-KASEF FAMILY DEVELOPMENT

-SOREN ALMOST FEELING LIKE HE’S A PART OF A REAL FAMILY AGAIN.

-The girls all notice that Kasef is different from how he left besides his scars. The way he’s much more relaxed, laidback, and actually smiles and grins without being hidden behind a smirk or a scoff. 

-They’ve also noticed how closely the boys sit together 

-Soren is having the time of his life, Kasef is enjoying being home and showing off his kingdom and his people. He would enjoy it a lot more if his sisters weren’t constantly snickering and giggling with each other and not telling him the joke.

“You 5 sound like a pack of laughing goats. What’s so funny?”

“Are you going to braid his hair once he grows it out, little brother? You can even use one of my red silk hair ties.”

“I think we should start preparing the henna soon, Esma.”

“I agree.”

“Can I be the flower girl?”

“WHAT ARE YOU ALL TALKING ABOUT?!”

-Kasef is completely oblivious. Soren is also completely oblivious. Much to everyone’s amusement and frustration. 

-Eventually the time comes for Soren to return to Katolis, much to his and Kasef’s dismay. Though he tries to disguise it with his “It’ll be good to finally have some peace and silence in the palace again without your blabbering mouth and terrible jokes.”

“Funny since you’re the one who laughs the hardest at my so called “terrible” jokes.”

-Despite his weak tough guy act, Kasef made Soren promise to write him and gave him one last gift. A large Neolandian messenger falcon. 

“I don’t trust your small Katolean crows. Our falcons are powerful, hardy, and much faster than crows.”

“Hey! Don’t talk smack about our crows. They’re really fun to watch and its hilarious watching them outsmart Crowmaster.”

Since this post is extremely long enough, I’ll continue the timeline on a separate one titled “Consort AU Pt2″

#tdp #tdp soren #tdp kasef #sorsef #the dragon prince #the dragon prince fandom #tdp fandom #tdp au #Soren x Kasef #Consort au #I got really really into this #I did warn y'all it will be long #tdp oc #I'm sorry but I will NOT shut up about this ship #It's too perfect and its an injustice upon me that they killed Kasef off #So I am making up my own reality as usual #These two together is a gold mine of comedic potential