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syoddeye · 2 months

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consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’.

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger.

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.”

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?”

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains.

“i mean, this part’s weird.”

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect.

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.”

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

#price x reader #price x f! reader #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #loser barista #me pingponging back and forth between writing The Horrors and comedic smut and this fluff like a fic obstacle course

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phfenomena · 9 months

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❝state of grace.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- state of grace by taylor!!!!

| A/N- i’m using every goddamn line of this song in it. it’s too good to be ignored. justice for state of grace it’s my fav on red 😞😞

| WARNINGS- strange men in cafes, wine, monopoly, mentions of murdering josh, mentions of robbery, two goofballs in love, and big ol’ smooches

(divider by @v6que)

i’m walking fast through the traffic lights, busy streets and busy lives.

you’ve scrambled out of your apartment and are speed walking throughout the brooklyn streets in hopes of getting to your audition on time. being an aspiring actress in new york isn’t easy, but it’s all you wanted to do. nothing else called to you like acting, but the constant state of franticness and stress was taking a toll.

your mind begins to wander around the fact that the thousands of people you see tonight have their own lives, they’re trying to get home to their families, or their significant other, they have something to go home to.

all we know is touch and go.

after the disaster that one could call your audition, you figured you deserved a coffee. the cozy and serene café was one you frequented, on the days you had time. the chipper and almost too happy barista starts your drink the second she sees you cross the threshold of the doors. you go to take your usual seat by the window but stop upon seeing a man sitting there.

you stop and stare before ultimately deciding to just take the seat next to his, no, your usual seat. being too tired to even try to muster up the emotional strength to be upset, you plop down and place your head on the table. “you look like you really need this today.” jessie, the barista, says and places the mug of coffee next your head. you offer a small thanks and stare into the dark liquid.

we are alone with our changing minds, we fall in love till’ it hurts or bleeds.

the man occupying your space turned to look at you and he looked completely contrary to you, bright blue eyes, a smile, and he just looked content. he’s definitely attractive, but your brain couldn’t find any room for this man to move into.

“rough day, eh?” his accent makes you tilt your head towards him, he is really cute, you can’t lie. you nod your head tiredly and sip on your coffee. he stand up and takes the seat across from you and stick his hand out. “i’m tom, and you look like you could use a friend right now.” you shake his hand with a small smile and place the mug back down. “well, tom, how are you so good at reading people?” you pipe up after telling him your own name.

“it’s a talent i posses, love. can’t help it. i’m an empath.” his answer makes you laugh harder than you have in months. maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all. “there we go! you laughed, that was my whole goal. reckoned it would’ve taken longer, but i did it.” tom patted himself on the back as you shook your head with a small smile. “a woman of very few words, i see?”

you hum “i don’t know what to say to you, tom. a strange man approaches me in a cafe after i’ve had a bad day, what do i say to that?” he puts a finger on his chin to over exaggerate his thinking. “you could tell me about yourself, or i could tell you about myself. you just look lonely.” his eyes widen as he realizes he just called you lonely. he wasn’t wrong, but still hurt your feelings nonetheless.

“okay, i’m from california. everyone i know still lives there so it’s a little difficult to not be lonely here, but you don’t seem to be very not lonely. you’re sitting in a cafe by yourself and talking to strangers.” he throws his head back laughing. yeah, he’s really cute.

you come around and the armor folds, pierce the room like a cannonball.

after consistently hanging out with tom for a few months you’ve gotten into a routine. text tom good morning, tell him what you’re doing that day, and that you hope he has a good day. through him you’ve met some great friends, but you and rachel stuck together like glue instantly.

“so you’ve known tom for like seven months, and he still hasn’t come over to your apartment?” rachel asks in between sips of wine. you both sit on toms couch as the others are in the kitchen mixing drinks. “yes! i don’t know why i’m so nervous about it, it just feels too intimate for him to see it.” you and rachel giggle into eachother. it might be the wine, but you’ve never felt happier.

tom comes running into the living room, obviously drunk. “try this, i’ve perfected my concoction.” he shoves a foul smelling drink into your face. you look up at him and smile, “tom, this smells terrible. what the hell is in this?” he smells it himself and shrugs. “about a pour of everything.” you turn to rachel as if pleading for her to help. “i think i heard josh say he needs your help in the kitchen.” tom pipes up and struts back to the kitchen.

“someone needs to cut him off, he’s gonna be so sick tomorrow.” you manage to squeeze out in between your laughs. rachel wiggles her eyebrows at you “and you’ll be the one taking care of him.” you turn your head away from her with a pained expression. “i’m going to the kitchen to see what the hell they’re doing.”

so you were never a saint, and i loved in shades of wrong.

you lay flat on toms floor while he sits next to you, you’re talking about how you were as teenagers and before you met eachother. “no i was literally evil, i would ghost any girl that liked me.” toms cheeks are blushed from all the laughing. “i was the same way! i just never loved anyone right, and i was just really mean.” tom brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face that was stuck on your eyelashes. you stare up and him and swallow, you jet up to your feet. “i’m hungry, let’s go grab something.”

this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight. love is a ruthless game.

josh, rachel, tom and you sit circled around your coffee table. monopoly laying on the table and wine in all of your hands. “that’s not fair! i’m in jail and josh gets to buy my properties?” you yell out as josh wheezes next to you. your eyes meet toms and you glance down at his wine stained lips. “you’re the bank, tom! tell him no and that i’m still a citizen!” “afraid you’ve dug your own grave, love. robbery does land you in jail.” he knowingly points his finger at you. “who said i committed robbery?! this is a corrupt world.”

rachel decided it might be best to put the game away before you actually do end up in jail for killing josh. the four of you sit on the couch watching some marvel movie. you turn your head to tom and whisper “so how did i commit robbery? what did i steal?” obviously still stuck on how you never won the game. he smirked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “my heart, love.” you pull away from him and pretend to gag onto rachel, who is sound asleep.

this is the golden age of something good and right and real. and i never saw you coming.

you wake up blearily and sit up. then a wall of pain shoots into your head as you look to your surroundings. tom is in your bed next to you. oh my god. tom is in your bed. he groans and grabs his head “what time is it? and how much wine did we drink?” he asks, acting like this is just a normal situation. “i have no idea where my phone is and apparently a lot because i feel like i got hit by a train.” you croak out laying back down.

toms arm finds its home around your waist and he cuddles into your back. “let’s just go back to sleep.” you nod and try to push down the sheer panic rising throughout your form. when you awake a few hours later, tom is gone. almost disappointed you walk out into your living room and find rachel and josh sitting there looking quite grumpy. “are you guys oka-” josh shushes you and goes back to rubbing his temples. you mutter a small sorry and walk into your kitchen, seeing tom making coffee. his bed head and sleep ridden eyes make your stomach feel warm and fuzzy.

“good morning.” you grumble and he laughs. “it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.” you laugh with him and rest your head on the counter waiting for the coffee. “i didn’t think we drank that much last night, i don’t even remember most of it.” you confess with furrowed eyebrows trying to rake back through your memories.

tom looks almost solemn at your confession and nods. “yeah, me too. it’s all blurry.” he remembered everything. last nights escapades slowly come back as you think and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. thinking of what happened last night.

you and tom sat on your bedroom floor as you showed him all the books you’ve collected and his smile was so wide it made your heart jump at the sight. you rambled on and on about how you read the ballad of songbirds when it came out and how he channeled coriolanus so well but he was just staring at you, the wine coursing through both of your bloods. he lunged forward and captured your lips with his causing you to drop your book and wrap your arms around him.

you quickly brush your teeth and comb through your hair, trying to look somewhat decent. you slowly tread back into the kitchen and stare at tom. “i remember last night.” you quickly confessed. biting the inside of your cheek as tom turns to look at you. “do you regret it?” he quietly asks before you shake your head and step closer to him. “no, i don’t. i’ve liked you since i met you.” he smiles and wraps his arm around you while pouring your coffee into your favorite mug.

these are the hands of fate, you’re my achilles heel.

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lo1islayerx2 · 25 days

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Idk what's going on with my head but now I'm obsessed with this sailor moon au xd

Here is another art I think I'll make some cute mini comic about their life xdd

I could not stop imagining them as sailor scouts and here are some headcanons about their normal life. Im stills truggling to find some headcanons for akutagawa and sailor mercury:

●Chuuya is a part-time barista and works at a local café. He attends high school, where he is known for his leadership among peers but has a reputation for being hot-tempered.

●chuuya loves dancing and boxing, using these as outlets for his excess energy and emotions. He also enjoys fashion and is known for his stylish clothes.

●Atsushi is a high school student, often seen as shy and introspective. He struggles with self-confidence but finds strength in his friends.

●Atsushi enjoys reading fantasy novels and caring for animals. He volunteers at an animal shelter, which showcases his gentle nature.

●Kunikida is passionate about writing his ideal world and loves gardening. His structured nature often finds him engaging in deep philosophical discussions or organizing the group's plans.

●Kunikida is passionate about social justice and works as a tutor for underprivileged kids while balancing his demanding school life. He is often seen as the voice of reason among his friends.

●Dazai enjoys writing poetry and making witty banter, often to Chuuya’s frustration. He also partakes in mischief, often scheming harmless pranks that exacerbate his friendly rivalry with Chuuya. Or just to flirt with him.

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miitokii · 2 months

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can i post this for shuake week day 7 even though it’s late and isn’t really shuake (I LOVE SHUAKE) :,)

joker’s palace! i imagine he has one shadow for each confidant, and they’re all called their respective arcanas.

his palace is a theatre/masquerade, hence they all have masks and gloves

the first one (which i also posted before, is arsène/fool)

the last one is strength (the shadow for the twin wardens). it’s kinda just his inmate outfit so i didn’t line/colour it properly lol

i also have these, which i drew for a different purpose [which has now been posted!] (hence the lack of masks, gloves, and yellow eyes; and the drawings of the confidants; and the relative lack of detail) but if i were to draw them the designs would be similar

warning for long ass dump of my notes on each shadow lol:

each shadow is sort of like how ren tries to portray himself to each of his confidants, like their ideal version of him (at least in joker’s cognition)

joker (fool): his ‘joker’ persona - the leader of the phantom thieves, bold, flamboyant, confident (i.e. how he portrays himself in the metaverse)

ann (lovers): fashionista, model, veering into drag queen territory

i initially drew a suit version but then remembered ren canonically has crossdressed lol (we love the mementos mission manga)

haru (empress): a sweet and gentle prince, detached from okumura foods (like haru’s getaway, prince charming)

makoto (priestess): a model student, smart, serious, but also driven and follows own ideals (like makoto wishes she could)

ryuji (chariot): punkish gym bro

akechi (justice): righteous knight, intellectual and justice driven

morgana (magician): a phantom thief, a cowboy sort of image, sly, cunning, fast

yusuke (emporer): traditional japanese furisode (in modern times this tends to be worn by women, which yusuke could be more drawn to in his models) artistic, down to earth

there’s also a bit about his mother, since a furisode is mostly worn by unmarried women, and since we never hear about yusuke’s biological father, i’d guess she was unmarried? yusuke wants to recapture the beauty of the sayuri (which is a self-portrait) and thinks he could do so with a beautiful model - so ren wears a furisode like an unmarried young woman, like yusuke’s mother

futaba (hermit): otaku, nerd, older brother figure and fellow gamer

sojiro (heirophant): apprentice barista, 2nd boss of leblanc, charming, a ladies man (sorry sojiro your son is gay)

twin wardens (strength): just an inmate lol (focused on fusing lots of personas and filling the compendium, plus listening to igor)

sumi (faith): senior more experienced gymnast/trainer, ‘senpai’

mishima (moon): gentleman thief, but unlike fool and magician, moon would be more secretive and cunning like a traditional gentleman thief

maruki (counsellor): fellow researcher, curious and driven, but very kind and empathetic

maruki would also wish ren was more like him, and agreed with his ideas, since they both lowkey have a savior complex but use different methods. if ren agreed with maruki there would be no conflict in the 3rd semester, which is what maruki would want

sae (judgement): innocent and sweet school boy, model student, unlike priestess who is more self-driven and ambitious, judgement would be more conforming

#shuake week 2024 #shuakeweek2024 #shuake #persona 5 royal #joker persona 5 #amamiya ren #persona 5 #ren amamiya #persona 5 joker #akira kurusu #kurusu akira #joker p5 #joker palace #ren being a crossdresser like usual #and wearing high heels #like the flamboyant gay twink he is

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siconetribal · 26 days

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Put it on My Tab (20)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning: Interview pressure, No filter

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

An ache started at the base of the back of her head. How long had she been standing here with her neck craned back, looking up at the tall justice building that held the Gotham City Police Department. Y/N could count the number of times she had been her on one hand. This visit was not breaking that record, but she hoped this would be the only one needed. She appreciated the department as a whole, but like all places, it had rotten personalities.

And now weirdos like Dick Dick. She snorted at the little nickname she had for the detective she was working with on the claim case. “Well, I guess he really isn’t all that bad. There are weirder people in this city, like criminals with themes.” The mumbled words were hers alone to hear as she rocked her head side to side to ease the tension before walking in. The ‘enthusiastic’ receptionist barely moved when pointing to a hall of doors, she eventually found her way to the right place and was led to an interview room.

“Y/N, good morning, glad you could make it.” The young detective flashed her a swoon worthy grin. She was not sure if he was trying to charm or disarm, so she gave a small polite smile back.

“Well, it was either come or possibly have a warrant out for my arrest for fraud. As dull as everyday life can be, I like not having a noose around my neck. Plus, my boss would fire me, and I lack a sugar daddy for that luxury.” The casual shrug was in stark contrast to the wide-eyed shock that currently adorned the face of the handsome detective. His brows were so high that they were slightly covered by his bangs that swept across his forehead. “Everything ok?”

“No-yes, sorry, yes. I was just trying to figure out if that was a good morning or something else.”

“Did I forget to say good morning? Where are my manners, good morning…and now you can tack all that I said after that.” She said with a triumphant smile, taking a seat. “Have a seat, let’s get this statement down, and I’ll be out of your well-kept hair and back to grinding coffee beans and whipping up crazy drinks for overly privileged teens.” She motioned to the seat that was clearly meant for him to take.

The corners of his mouth twitched as he pulled out the chair and angled it to face her better. He was thrown off. This was good for her, a little victory for her in all this. It was only fair that he be equally thrown as she, a normal Gothomite, would feel while in a room like this. “I’m guessing your dream job isn’t being a barista.” He chuckled.

“What job could be more satisfying than slaving away in a tiny spot with a few others, a single counter keeping you from the rabid coffee-addicted zombies that come rushing in impossible demands that they don’t even know they want?” She raised a brow at him, her voice was flat and dry. He chuckled again.

“You make a valid point, working for the public is not fun.” He briefly raised his hands, palms facing her, before resting on the table again. “Shall we get started then? As you know, this meeting will be recorded. It’s nothing serious, just formality and procedure. We can stop whenever you want, you’re not under arrest or being interrogated.” He placed a tape recorder on the table between them and clicked the red button. “If you don’t have any questions, we can begin.”

“Oh, one question Dick Dick, Nightwing gave me a tip that evening, do I need to hand that over to you as part of the claim or do I just keep it as a usual tip from a customer?”

Dick Grayson sat frozen in place, the reels of the tape slowly turning as it caught all of her words. This was the second time today that this odd young woman rendered him speechless, but this time was different. He was not sure if he should be laughing at her words or at himself. She had not said anything wrong, and he knew that. It was informal, possibly derogatory to some, and very old-fashioned. It was something he never expected, and yet he knew he was at fault for forgetting he was currently speaking with the very young woman who had his usually grumpy little brother even grumpier than usual.

But did she actually say that on purpose, or was that a slip of the tongue? She was calling me Detective Grayson up until now. Did I miss something? I can see why he’s all knotted up, she really knows how to throw a guy. He watched the slow realization of her words dawning on her. Her eyes widening, her back going straight as she sat taller, and her jaw silently opening and closing until words finally started coming out. A series of apologies and reassurances that she had no ill intentions.

“Can you strike that from the record? Like erase it?”

“I can have it stricken from the transcript, yes, but not from the audio recording, no. That’s, that’s going to be staying on here forever. It’ll just be disregarded, since we’re officially marking it as struck from the record.” He swallowed the laughter that threatened to take over him as she slumped forward with her face hidden in her hands. Her words were low and muffled, but he was certain he heard a few more apologies in there before she forced herself back up and looked at him. “As for your question, a tip is a tip. You said you gave them coffee, they decided to give you a tip. It’s got nothing to do with the claim, since all that’s being asked to be covered is the restoration of the window. Now, shall we officially begin?”

As soon as the interview had concluded, Y/N was out the door before anything else could be said, mostly by her. The last thing she needed was for the detective to try to pry out anything more embarrassing from her. Her heart rammed into her chest as her mind so mercifully replayed her words and the look of horror that came across Detective Grayson’s normally jovial expression on an infinite loop. The flirtatious cop had shrunk away, and the look had to be disgusted, what else would he feel after someone called him something so utterly ridiculous. Regardless of his highly unprofessional dalliances, he never actually crossed a line with her. She, who kept it completely professional throughout the time, had blown everything up to the high heavens.

Because clearly, my mind is willing to give up the idiotic things that come to me, for free. Slapping a hand over her eyes, rubbing up and down a few times before combing her fingers through her hair. “Don’t say it, Y/N, don’t say it. If you say it, something worse will happen.” Climbing up the steps of the bus, she quickly took one of the few available seats and plugged in her earbuds. She sank into the uncomfortable seat, actively pushing the mortifying memory that would haunt her for the rest of her days, as she increased the volume. With her favorite playlist playing on shuffle, she mindlessly went through her phone and realized she was now staring at the old text conversation between her and her ‘capeless crusader’. Automatically, her thumb moved to close the screen, but the finger hesitated. It hovered between tapping back to her home screen and the input box in the chat.

Maybe he’s a bigger dumbass and thinks I’m happy he’s out of my hair? She bit her lower lip as she warred with what to do. There’s no harm in texting, right? What’s the worst that can happen? He doesn’t read or leaves me on read? He wasn’t the best at texting right away with his work schedule. Not only that, but he could be busy. She reasoned in favor of him. “What do I even text him? It’s not like I’m living an exciting life.” She grumbled when one word from the chat came into focus.

<Hey, I know this is late, but thanks again for helping me out. I let my brain just shut down and enjoy the first few days of debt-free life. The brownies you made were amazing. Didn’t peg you as the baking type. Books, bikes, and now baking? You’re a triple B threat, Boy Wounder. Are you still planning that meet up, or should I quash my hopes before they’re dashed?> She reread the message several times, tweaking the tiniest of things. It got to the point that she was getting frustrated herself and just hit the arrow to send and shoved the phone into her pocket. It was done and there was nothing more she could do except wait for would inevitably feel like an eternity or will actually be an eternity, if he decided not to reply. Nothing to worry about, but why would her mind side with logic? Today was to be a day of mental anguish, all thanks to herself.

Tags:

@vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotall @antiquecultist

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yeonjunszn · 1 year

Text

ASAP!

PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader

GENRES! fluff﹒crack﹒slice of life?

WARNINGS! as per usual, it is not a yeonjunszn smau without my sailors mouth — so mature language, coffee shop!au cause i work in one and couldn’t resist myself, this smau is actually a recreation of a yeonjun smau called cool it! by my bff past tumblr user yuitaru, manager mark era, kinda dumb reader (affectionate) era, milf lover jeno, insane jaemin and hyuck, chenle in his nepotism baby era tbh, there’s a fight scene somewhere, also annoying fluffy cute disgusting scenes here and there, an overt amount of coffee shop/barista references bc i am a master at my craft, mr. choi yeonjun has a cameo to pay homage to the original cool it!, ignore time stamps cause i was lazy lol, lmk if i missed anything!

FEAT! the rest of nct dream, yangyang + xiaojun + hendery from wayv, chaewon from le sserafim, sumin from stayc, mingi + the rest of the ateez ‘99 line, and yeonjun from txt

SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.

STATUS! completed!

BEGINNING! june 1, 2023

END! august 31, 2023

MORE! HELLOOOO im back bffs 😵 did u miss me??? i have a quick little disclaimer for u guys so i don’t get accused of stealing 😻😻😻🫶

thank u so much to rina my bff bestie soulmate for giving me the rights to recreate cool it! and sort of bring back such a fun smau </3 i’ve been working on asap! for quite some time now, between work and school, and i’m so excited i can finally share her with all of u 🫶 i do plan on going back to all my works that are on hold (including my 1k event LOL) but i was sort of burnt out for a while which is why i did all this in absolute silence 😋👍 anyway!! i hope i did her justice <3 send an ask to join the taglist!!

PROFILES! mark’s biggest haters | espresso patronum | the rest of chenle’s coffee maids

ONE! please no tweeting on the clock, y/n!

TWO! manager zoned is crazy

THREE! BACK OF THE LINE PAL

FOUR! go work at mcdonald’s or something

FIVE! common chenle L

SIX! i always knew u were a furry

SEVEN! call me karen from mean girls

EIGHT! mark antis 1 - mark 0

NINE! the best ever (1.1k)

TEN! NANEUN ALCOHOL-FREE GEUNDE CHWIHAE

ELEVEN! YESSSS GO GIRL BOSS

TWELVE! i don’t owe u shit freeloader

THIRTEEN! force and sheer determination

FOURTEEN! yoooo mark how it be? what it do?

FIFTEEN! pick me choose me

SIXTEEN! lunch break (499)

SEVENTEEN! DONG SICHENG ?

EIGHTEEN! hey guys this is god

NINETEEN! i will force his hand into a blender

TWENTY! chocolate croissant (841)

TWENTY ONE! #xiaojun_out

TWENTY TWO! grinders and coffee beans (951)

TWENTY THREE! what is a marky/n

TWENTY FOUR! shaking shivering sobbing

TWENTY FIVE! every summertime (1.08k)

TWENTY SIX! worlds worst barista. fired.

TWENTY SEVEN! cool it

#nct #nct smau #nct social media au #nct socmed au #nct mark x reader #nct mark smau #mark lee x reader #mark lee smau #mark lee social media au #mark x reader #mark smau #mark social media au #asap.mark❕#yeonjunszn

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melisnonstop · 3 days

Text

NOW

There’s nothing remarkable about the morning.

It’s a Tuesday, the sky a dull gray outside, the streets of New York humming in their usual chaotic way. Alex doesn’t expect anything to happen. He’s just another face in the crowd, just another law student finishing his degree, counting down the days until he can make a difference, raise his voice, bend the world toward the kind of justice that feels like home.

But right now? He’s just tired. Running on coffee fumes and stubborn willpower, the buzz of caffeine humming faintly in his veins.

The bell above the door of the coffee shop chimes as he pushes through, the warm scent of roasted beans wrapping around him like an embrace. He’s done this a thousand times before—a routine. The barista knows his order. It’s nothing special—as many espresso shots as legally possible, with cinnamon and enough sugar to cut through the bitterness.

He steps up to the counter, taps his fingers idly, eyes scanning the menu he doesn’t need to read. The world around him is a blur of soft chatter, clinking mugs, the hiss of the machines.

But then—it happens.

There are no fireworks. It’s not the stars falling from the sky. It’s just a pair of eyes.

A pair of blue eyes. Endless. Familiar. The color of oceans and skies and promises never spoken aloud.

The boy who’s been there—in glimpses, in whispers—woven through his life like a thread of starlight.

He’s sitting by the window, a cup of tea in hand, a book open before him. And Alex knows, in the deepest part of himself, that he has been waiting for this, for him, for this moment, all his life.

"It's you."

The words catch on the edge of Alex’s tongue, unspoken but heavy in the air.

Across the room, the boy—now a man—looks up, eyes locking with Alex’s as though he’s been caught mid-thought, mid-breath, mid-life.

The faintest smile tugs at the corner of his mouth,like somehow, inexplicably, he understands.

THEN

It started long before Alex ever knew it had started.

Soft, flickering visions that would come and go—strange but comforting, like hearing a melody from a distant room, just out of reach.

A glimpse of blue eyes, a laugh carried on the wind, a feeling like a heartbeat not his own.

Alex remembers being six, sitting on his grandmother’s porch, the Texas sky stretching out like a blanket of stars above him. The world smelled like sun-warmed earth and tortilla dough, like home, and his abuela would hum under her breath, soft melodies that curled around him like the evening breeze.

"Es un sueño, cariño," his grandmother said when he told her, voice soft and slow. "Dreams are more than just sleep,They are echoes. Susurros. The universe whispers its secrets to us."

#rwrb fillet #firstprince ficlet #firstprince #alex x henry #alex claremont diaz #firstprince fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #rwrb #alexander claremont diaz #firstprince fanfiction #firstprince fic rec

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losfacedevil · 8 months

Text

Sovereign Light Cafe // JTK

a/n~ The long awaited Barista Jake is finally here! This was a Valentines request by my love @silks-up-my-sleeve - I hope I’ve done this Jake justice!

A sigh slipped past Jakes lips as he dropped another plastic lid to the floor, kicking it underneath the counter he stood behind. He rolled his eyes and reached for another lid, securing it onto the to go cup before sliding the beverage onto the pick up rack. His eyes danced over the setting Sun in the distance, closing time finally creeping up the horizon.

“Long day, Jay-Jay?” His partner in crime chirped. Jake turned his attention to the petite red head to his left, watching as she sipped happily on the milkshake he had made her a few minutes prior. He rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, leaning back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“These doubles are for the birds. Five am to Seven pm and I have to do it all again tomorrow.” He groaned, reaching up to scrub a hand over his face. Sunny nodded, placing her milkshake down on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron, turning her attention to the girl walking through the door. Jake glanced over his shoulder and a soft smile spread across his lips as his eyes landed on you. Spinning on his heel he got to quick work of making your iced coffee.

“Hey Sun? Looks like I need more whip - would you mind running in the back to grab me some?” Jake mumbled, turning his attention to Sunny quickly. The smaller girl nodded and jogged into the back room as you approached the counter. Jakes gaze caught yours as you raised an eyebrow and nodded in Sunny’s direction.

“Bathroom breaks at the worst possible time.” He chuckled, sticking a spoon into the coffee cup in front of him and stirred. You watched him closely, taking note of just how careful he was every time he prepared a drink. Cocking your head to the side you stepped up to the counter, leaning on your hands as you waited for Sunny to return to her post.

“It’s a bit late to see you here though, isn’t it?” He joked, shaking the can of whipped cream he held and sprayed a decent amount on the top of the coffee in front of him.

“Late night study date with my laptop and textbooks, I need the proper fuel.” You giggled, watching closely as he popped a domed lid on top of the drink and slid it across the pick up station with a cheeky wink.

“Large ice, two shots of espresso, as much mocha as your heart desires and what is it you say? A fuck ton of whip.” He chuckled, leaning back against the small hand washing sink behind him, his arms crossed over his chest. A soft smile spread across your face as your eyes landed on the coffee now sat on the plastic shelving.

“How’d you… can I?” You tripped over your words, pointing at the cash register, a quiet request to pay. Jake shook his head and place a finger to his lips before making a ‘shoo’ motion with his other hand.

“It’s on the house, just don’t get us caught. Happy studying.” He chuckled, pushing himself off of the sink and slowly busied himself with the clean up tasks at hand. You couldn’t help the way your bottom lip found a home tucked safely between your teeth as you reached out and scooped the coffee up off of the stand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You cooed, waving over your shoulder as you made your way out of the coffee shop.

Sunny pushed her way out of the back into the bar, a carton of cool whip held in her hand. Her eyes danced across the now empty dining room area and her brown quirked, wondering where you had gotten off to.

“All we have is cool whip I’ll have to tell mom, but… where’d your friend go?” She asked, eyeing Jake suspiciously. He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant way, glancing up to see you drive past the big storefront window.

“She was looking for her textbook, thought she left it in the booth but it’s nowhere to be found.” Jake mumbled, tossing the spoon he had used into the sink behind him. Sunny made a face, crossing her arms over her chest and began to tap her foot against the ground.

“Really? Then why are you cleaning up? I thought you were done with the closing duties?” She quipped, taking a step forward to see the coffee he had set aside for himself was gone.

“Spilled the coffee I was gonna make myself like a dumbass.” She nodded her head, not fully buying the story he was selling before turning on her heel and popped open the cash sales drawer to lock up for the night.

~*~*~

A yawn escaped Jake as he fumbled with the set of keys in his hand. He stared at them pointedly, trying to figure out why he couldn’t find his shop key when it clicked in his head. Those are your car keys dipshit. A defeated huff sounded from his throat as he shoved his hand down into the depths of his cargo pants pocket, fishing for the smaller set of keys he knew he had tossed in there this morning. The sound of a car approaching behind him shook him from his angsty delve into his pocket and he looked up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ears.

“Sun to the rescue.” He sighed, ceasing the struggle to find his shop keys amongst the change, hair ties and chapsticks that lived deep in his pockets. Sunny eyed him carefully as she got out of her car, taking in the wrinkled shirt and his disheveled hair hanging loosely around his shoulders, seemingly not been touched since he left the shop last night.

“Rough night, Jay?” She called, locking up her vehicle and slowly made her way over to where he stood. She fumbled with her keys for a second before producing the shop key and unlocked the door, letting Jake in first.

“Dude, I took a shower as soon as I got home and the next thing I knew my alarm was screaming at me to get up. I didn’t eat dinner, didn’t do my daily chores. I don’t know what happened.” Jake sighed, tossing his messenger bag down on the table closest to the door. Sunny nodded and reached up, placing her hands on both of his shoulders and pushed, forcing the boy to sit in the booth in front of him.

“You look like who did it and ran, where’s your brush?” She asked, holding her hand out next to his head. Jake dug around in his bag briefly and pulled out a hair brush that had seen its better days. Sunny couldn’t help but giggle as she took it off of him and pointed to her own bag.

“Find the spray bottle and little elastics in that mess I call a bag please.” Jake made quick work of pulling out the two things he was always prompted to find and held the spray bottle up to Sunny’s waiting hand.

His eyes fluttered shut as she made quick work of detangling his hair and quickly swooped the strands of his hair into two tight French braids down the back of his head. A soft sigh escaped him as she ran her cool fingers over the part in his hair, making sure the hair wasn’t pulled too tight from his scalp.

“That’s better. Now you don’t look like a wild child and it’s out of your face.” She cooed, spraying some more cool water against the top of his head and smoothed her hands over the braids. Jake turned and tilted his head, making sure the hair didn’t pull in any places before turning in his seat and held up a fist. Sunny rolled her eyes before connecting her fist with his in a fist bump and turned on her heel, making her way into the back room of the cafe.

Jake stretched over the back of the booth, sighing in relief as all of vertebrae in his back popped in quick succession. Rolling his head from side to side he turned in his seat and gathered his bearings before pushing himself to stand.

“Did you ask mom to get more whipped cream?” He called, scooping their bags up off of the table and slowly made his way into the back of the shop.

~*~*~

A tired sigh slipped past your lips as you slid out of the drivers seat and slammed it shut behind you, using the key fob in your hand to lock the doors. You dragged your feet as you made your way into the cafe, the plan for the day to melt into your booth in the far corner and lose yourself in your newest read.

Sunny’s bright and sunshine filled face greeted you as you opened the door and you felt your small fall a bit as you realized Jake was nowhere in sight. Sunny rang up your order and scooped it up off of Jakes work station to hand it to you as he pushed his way out of the backroom door.

“Hey! I wasn’t done.” He chuckled, shaking the can of whipped cream he held and flipped it upside down to fill the dome lid of your coffee with it. A soft smile spread across your face as you took in his appearance. The bags under his eyes seemed less than they were the night before and his hair was pulled into two smooth French braids.

“Hi, my friend! I like the braids, they suit you.” You kept your voice light and plucked the straw Sunny held out to you out of her hand, inserting it into your drink and took a long sip.

“Sunny decided I looked a little too chaotic this morning and insisted on the braids.” Jake chucked, twirling the end of the braid cheekily around his finger. You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past your lips as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Well someone has to keep you looking your best, don’t they?” You nodded in his direction and quickly turned on your heel, making your way over to your usual booth.

Sunny watched as you slid into the booth and slowly began to take your books and laptop out of your backpack. She leaned back against the counter behind her and cross her arms over her chest and turned her attention to Jake. His eyes were trained on you, watching your every move as you opened your laptop and logged into it, opening your google docs before turning your attention to your textbook. She giggled slightly as she reached out and placed her fingers under his chin, pressing his jaw shut.

“You’re staring.” She giggled glancing over her shoulder at you once more.

“She likes you, you know. Should probably shoot your shot.” Jakes eyes grew wide and he shook his head, causing her to pull her fingers back.

“There’s no way she likes me, she’s just being nice when she comes in here is all.” Jake shrugged, not wanting to get his hopes up in regards to you. Sunny nodded her head as she watched you work, noting the quick glances you would shoot their way.

“She keeps glancing up at you, Jay. I promise you she likes you. Do you not see the way she looks at you when you’re talking to her? Her face fell in the slightest way earlier when she thought you weren’t here.” A soft blush spread across his cheeks as he caught your eye briefly.

“You think? She’s not just being nice?” Sunny rolled her eyes and nodded in the direction of the bar, a silent request for her daily coffee.

“I know you’re not giving free coffees to girls you don’t think you could pull - cause if you are… I’m telling mom!” Sunny giggled watching as Jakes cheeks blazed red and his eyes widened as he slowly began to mix her coffee.

“I wasn’t aware you were on to me.” Jake chuckled, sliding the coffee across the counter to Sunny. She rolled her eyes, picking up the cup and took a long swig before lifting her fingers to her lips and kissed them - he silent compliments to him.

“You don’t think I knew what you were doing last night when you told me to go find more whip knowing full well you had at least half a can still on your station? And when I came back you genuinely expected me to believe you spilled and entire cup of coffee and didn’t yell about it?” Jakes cheeks reddened even further - something Sunny wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.

“And you didn’t harp on me for giving away coffee?” Sunny couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past her lips as she reached up and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

“I’m guilty of giving a pretty girl or two a free coffee or muffin here and there - I can’t fault you if I’m doing it too. But you might wanna shoot your shot because if you don’t? I just might.. I mean look at her!” Sunny whistled lowly and glanced at you once more. Your brows were furrowed together, hand wrapped around the coffee cup and you leaned in closer to the screen in front of you.

“Look how cute she is when she’s concentrating.” Jakes eyes widened as they landed on you and he snapped the dish towel he held in his hands.

“SUN!” His voice coming out louder than he had meant it to caused Sunny to giggle and you to turn your attention to the couple. A soft sigh escaped you as you returned Sunny’s wave, disappointed by the way they openly flirted within your earshot.

~*~*~

The hours sped by without warning and before you knew it lunchtime was looming over your head. Reaching up above your head you stretched out your sore back, sighing wi the relief as the bones popped as the crick in your neck dissipated. Jake watched from behind the bar as you slowly packed up your stuff, a clear indicator that you were done for the day.

He popped a small plastic cup off of the stack to his right and quickly scribbled something on it in sharpie, shaking the cup to dry the ink before placing it down and filling it with the strawberry banana smoothie he had just made for Sunny. A soft smile spread across his face as he popped a lid on it and slid it across the mobile pick up station.

“How about something different for the road, Sweets? A little less mocha and a little more naturally sweet.” He chuckled, nodding his head in the direction of the cup now sat in front of him. You cocked your head to the side, mouthing the word ‘sweets’ to yourself and pointed at the cup.

“Yeah, just a little smoothie. Figured you’d like a change from your regular espresso mocha whip combo.” A soft smile spread across your face as you took the cup from its resting place and shot him a short wave.

“See you tomorrow, Jake.” You called, pushing your way out of the cafe. Jakes eyes grew wide as it registered in his mind that you had used his name. Sunny made her way out of the back room, tumbler clutched in her hand and she squeezed by Jake to get to the blender.

“Why do you look like you’ve been shot?” She chuckled, pouring the contents of the blender into her cup.

“She called me Jake, Sun.” He mumbled, reaching for the now empty blender and turned at his waist to place it into the sink behind them.

“Well that’s your name isn’t it?”

Sitting in your car just outside the cafe, you stared dumbfounded at the cup, his chicken scratch scrawl now smudged but still legible enough to make out what was written there. Your heart hammered in your chest as you fully processed the words.

‘Valentine’s Day Dinner? Text me!’ With his number scrawled just beneath his question.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and quickly added his number to your contacts list.

~*~*~

Your heart hammered in your chest as you pulled up to the cafe a bit later than usual. You could see Jake stood behind the bar as usual, his back turned to the bay window and Sunny speaking to him with a reassuring hand pressed to his shoulder. You took a deep breath as you exited your car - he liked you, he asked you on a date - the sound of the blood rushing through your ears damn near deafening you.

Pushing your way through the door you reached up and pressed a finger to your lips, signaling to Sunny to remain quiet and not speak of your entrance. She continued speaking to Jake, soft sentences of reassurance that you definitely felt the same way he felt about you and that maybe you needed a little extra time to process what he had written on the cup.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your food audibly against the floor. Jake tilted his head back gently and a soft sigh escaped him as he mentally prepared himself to handle a customer order.

“So you ask me out and then completely fumble having my drink ready for me, Jake? Well I never!” You giggled, placing your hand to your chest as he spun on his heel. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were blazing with heat, the blush slowing creeping down the length of his neck. A smile spread across Sunny’s face as she shot you a wink and turned to excuse herself to the bathroom.

“You… did see what I wrote.” It was a statement not a question, his eyes holding a light of almost disappointment as he slowly began to make your coffee.

“I did see what you wrote, but my balls are only there when I’m hopped up on caffeine so… I couldn’t find the balls to text you last night.” A chuckle of relief slipped past Jakes lips and he looked up and saw the smile spread across your face.

“Well I mean… I’m not sure we can continue this if you have balls. I don’t exactly swing for that team - you’d be better suited for my brother.” Your eyes widened and jaw dropped as the words spilled from him and he reached up, placing his hand over his mouth.

“Alrighty then… I think you got me there. But how about we start with lunch before we go jumping into some extravagant Valentine’s Day plans? This Sunny will let you sneak away for a little bit?” You questioned, watching as he added the whipped cream to the top of your coffee and licked the little bit off of the tip of his finger.

“We’re usually dead until three, I think she’ll be okay. HEY SUNNY - I’LL BE BACK!” He called over his shoulder and lifted the small countertop that separated the lobby from the bar. Standing next to you he bent his arm at the elbow and motioned for you to take it.

“I’ve heard the sandwich shop up the street is pretty good, let’s try there?” You suggested, following his lead out of the cafe. A giggle mixed with relief and excitement slipped past Jakes lips as you both slowly made your way to the sandwich shop.

Cheeky Jake Girl Taglist: @vanfleeter @writingcold @sinsofstardust @silks-up-my-sleeve @stardustvanfleet @tommie-gvf @jakesguitarsolo @klarxtr @ignite-my-fire @alwaysonthemend @allieisacrybaby @runwayblues

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic

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mixtapedoh · 1 month

Note

Hi olive! For your writing event, what about felix and waiting for us?

thank you all so much for reminding me how much of a sucker i am for skz ballads; idk what they lace their lyrics with to make me feel!!!!!! so very many!!!!!!! things!!!!!! but it's very appreciated

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴛᴀʟꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟ

☄. *. ⋆

pairing: lee felix x reader genre: fluff, long distance relationship word count: 1.1k warnings: emotional at the beginning for no other reason than me liking a little bit of yearning. a hint of want.

olive's notes: yongbokkie???? in this economy????? i hope i can do him justice. on the fence with this title, i could decide if i wanted to do that line or "smile, facing each other." both felt appropriate, but the former feels more... evocative? idk. the vibes here are like if waiting for us by skz and why won't you love me by 5SOS met in a bar and kissed or something. idk.

consider my mini writing event ?

There was a lethargic shuffle to the coffee shop you habitually frequented. When you wanted to be productive in the work set out before you, or simply wanted to stave off the loneliness that would occasionally come biting — a feeling familiar to you but not quite tamed — you would always meander your way here. The permanent, sleepy fluorescent lights casting a dull orange glow no matter the hour outside it’s hypnotic four walls, the same soft-spoken, slow-drawled baristas who were just well-mannered enough to exchange pleasantries before easing back to their college textbooks, the subdued, almost-dough like quality of the lo-fi hip hop playlist that looped ad-naseum, gentle beats and occasional lazy vocalization lulling you into a doze: there was something languid, in this place where you nursed your caffeine fix. Tired, but not unplesantly so. Worn, but not so thin.

It was that mutability, perhaps, that often slipped your mind to that velvet lined feeling of nostalgia.

“We’ll always find each other again…”

You took a long drink from the insulated cup in front of you, your eyes pulling away from the book you’d placed in front of you, a borrowed, dog-earred thing that had sprawling writing in the margins, almost illegible, but felt more than they were consciously understood. You’d swapped it months ago, now. At the time, he’d joked that you both read so slow, you’d probably reunite long before either of you would finish. But the day had come when you turned the last page. And here you were, again, a second read, near mid-way through.

The baristas were absorbed in texts of their own; couples sat at the high tables along the widows, murmuring warmly in tones too low to hear. There was an old woman, and she had all the supplies to crochet.

The taste of your drink lingered on your tongue, and the flavor gave way to hazy memories you were slow to blink away.

You popped in an earbud. The tone sounded brightly, bluetooth alerting you to its connection, and you dialed a familiar number.

“Beep… beep… beep…”

You slumped down in your seat — not entirely sure why you were doing so, but searching for the comfort of oblivion all the same.

"You have no new voice messages, and one saved voice message. To play saved voice messages, press pound.

"You have one saved voice message. Saved voice messages:

“(Y/n); hi… um… I know it’s late, so I wasn’t expecting you to pick up, but umm… I was missing you, and I wanted to hear your voice, and I guess I thought calling would work? I only remembered the time difference after it was too late, so yeah… I miss you… I’m thinking of you. You know, it’s funny, uh, Seungmin was talking, yesterday, and he said I talk about you so much it’s like I’m trying to make the rest of them feel lonely… it was right after I sent you that picture of the birds sitting on the um… wire, together. I guess I talk about you too much. So if you see him tomorrow and he pretends to be annoyed with you… yeah. Well, now you know why. Umm… that’s all I had to say; I’ve gotta go now… I love you.”

There was the faintest sound of air crackling on the other end. Like fabric of an oversized sweatshirt enveloping the microphone on the other end, a hug of sound. You heard him breathe. Then it was over.

“End of saved voice messages.

“Goodbye, now.”

Better to be free of this coffee shop - your flight was in a few hours, and you ought to gather the rest of your things - be prepared for when you get there. It was going to be a long flight.

You’d need something to pass the time. Your hands ghosted over the book before you; half read for a second time, a sweet ending that drifted into the ellipses of a happily ever after. Uncertain, happy, vague.

Maybe you’d buy an overpriced paperback at the airport.

Time ebbed and flowed, and you left the coffee shop, vacated your old apartment with the rest of your luggage in tow, said farewell to the streets you’d grown accustomed to, but never quite attached. You listened to the voicemail again at the airport, texted someone who could not reply, and then settled in for the strange sort of dissonance a plane ride can offer. Crossing a distance but stuck in the same headspace.

“I’m waiting, you know? I’m holding on, and when I see you next, I’m never letting go.”

The plane touched down with a sigh, and everyone aboard let out one of their own. You’d finished half of the book you’d picked up for the trip, slow-reading still. But here, in the middle of the story, things were still new. Life had only started to begin, and rather than a hazy, fading ellipses, there was still ground to tread. Paragraphs that led like arrows to a story only now dawning and with the sun, unfold.

The airport was hectic, as always. A far cry from the inertia of the coffee shop from earlier, a wave of movement, a cacophony of motion and sound. You picked your way through the crowd and in the rush of action, missed the phone call you were so hoping to catch. Your phone was still on vibrate, and the feeling of the person you were longing for the most reaching out to you through the divide, trying to grab hold of you before you were to disappear once again, was muffled by the giddy nervousness coursing through your body.

When you finally checked your phone and saw the call log, you swore.

“Beep… beep… beep…”

It was harder to hear, in the airport, with families milling about, people reuniting with happy shrieks, and everyone calling out names, grinning impossibly wide, catching their loved ones and pulling them close. If Felix were here… if you were to catch sight of his smiling face…

“You have one new voice message, and one saved voice message. New voice messages:”

“(Y/n).”

You pushed the phone closer to your ear, fumbling with the volume buttons. Why was it that voicemail still had such terrible sound quality?

“I’m waiting for you by the, um—”

Someone grabbed your shoulder and you spun.

“Felix!”

And your lips crashed onto his, your arms wrapping around him in a hug like a vice. He returned your joy with equal force, and when you pulled away from him he peppered you with kisses to your cheeks and forehead and the bridge of your nose.

“You’re here,” and the words slipped through you warm: incandescent, the sun. Eventually, he’d given you the space to breathe, and, having taken your bags from you, the two of you walked side by side, Felix giving you his hand when yours itched for something to hold.

“Always.” And he kissed your forehead again.

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

#olive.writes #miniwritingevent #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #skz x you #skz x reader #skz imagine #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix imagine #i always have and always will struggle with writing in character dialogue forgive me besties on tumblr #i hope you like it <3

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America

This afternoon (May 6), I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest for a 3:30PM event with Glynn Washington for my book Red Team Blues; tomorrow (May 7), it’s an 11AM event with Wendy Liu for my book Chokepoint Capitalism.

Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

The Writers Guild is on strike. Hollywood is closed for business. The union’s bargaining documents reveal a cartel of studios that refused to negotiate on a single position. This could go on for a long-ass time:

https://www.wga.org/uploadedfiles/members/member_info/contract-2023/WGA_proposals.pdf

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#union-strong

The writers are up for it. A lot of people are saying this is the first writers’ strike since 2007/8, but that’s not quite right. That was the last time the writers went on strike against the studios, but in 2019, the writers struck against their own talent agents — within the space of a week, all 7,000 writers in Hollywood fired their agents. They struck against the agencies for 22 months.

https://deadline.com/2023/04/hollywood-strike-writers-guild-studios-talent-agencies-1235333516/

The agencies had consolidated down to four major firms, two backed by private equity who loaded them up with debt that could only be repaid if the agencies figured out how to vastly increase their profits. They did so, by unilaterally switching the way they did business with their clients. Instead of taking a 10% commission on the creative wages they bargained for, the agencies started to take “packaging fees” from the studios for putting together a writer, director, stars, etc. These fees came out of the same budget that the talent got paid from, so the higher the fee was, the less the talent made. Soon, some showrunners were discovering that they were getting 10% and their agents were getting 90%!

The agencies weren’t done, either: they were building their own studios, and planning to negotiate with themselves on behalf of their clients. The writers said fuck this shit. They issued a code of conduct ordering the agencies to knock all that shit off. The agencies swore they’d never do it. Why should they? Every job these writers had ever done came through an agency, and the agencies were staffed with the toughest, most obnoxious negotiators on the planet.

They were sure the writers would cave. After all, the top tier of writers had been handled with kid gloves by the agencies and not ripped off to the same extent as their jobbing, workaday peers. They’d break solidarity and the union would collapse, right?

Wrong. Twenty-two months later, every one of the agencies caved on every single point. Bam. Union strong.

(Want to learn more? Check out Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin’s and my book about creative labor markets:)

http://chokepointcapitalism.com

Now the writers are back on strike and it’s triggered a predictable torrent of anti-worker nonsense (“striking writers will lead to public indifference to torture!) (no, really) (ugh):

https://www.readtpa.com/p/on-the-tv-writers-strike-dont-fall

One common theme in these bad takes is that writers aren’t real workers, like, you know, coal miners or Starbucks baristas. They’re coddled intellectuals, and haven’t the intelligentsia been indifferent to proletarian struggle since, you know, time immemorial?

This is wrong in every conceivable way. For starters, it’s ahistorical. Lord Byron and innumerable other toffs and poets and such were right there with the Luddites, demanding labor justice during the Industrial Revolution, as Brian Merchant writes in his outstanding, forthcoming history of the Luddites, Blood in the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/20/love-the-machine/#hate-the-factory

But you don’t have to look back to the stocking frame to find this kind of solidarity. As Hamilton Nolan writes in his newsletter, “Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America”:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-coral-reef-of-humanity-encircling

The entire Hollywood workforce, from grips to carpenters, costumers to plumbers, teamsters to medics, is unionized. That includes writers and actors (I’m a member of IATSE Local 839, AKA The Animation Guild). I live in Burbank, the entertainment industry’s company town (fun fact! The “Hollywood” studios are largely over the city line, in Burbank). Walk down Burbank Boulevard, Magnolia Boulevard, or any of the other major roads, and you’ll pass many union halls.

Burbank is a prosperous place. That’s thanks, in part, to the studios, whose entertainment products are very profitable. But working in a profitable industry is not, in and of itself, a guarantee that you will get a share of those profits. Some of the most profitable industries in the world — e-commerce, fast food, logistics — have the lowest paid workforces.

Burbank is prosperous because the unions made sure that everyone — the grips, the costumers, the animators, the actors, the writers, the teamsters and the pipefitters — gets a decent wage, decent health care and a decent retirement. My pal the set-dresser who worked crazy hours shlepping furniture around sitcom sets for decades? All that work did bad stuff to his joints, which meant that he needed a hip replacement in his forties — which was 100% covered, including his sick leave while he recovered. He was able to take early retirement in his late fifties, with a solid pension, with his health in excellent shape and many years of happiness with his partner stretching before him.

That’s what unions get you: a good job that might be hard at times, and the costs of your work are borne by the employer who profits from your labor. As Nolan writes, the point of unions is to “make sure that people! Are! Not! Disposable!”

Unions deliver the American dream. As Pete Seeger sang in “Talking Union Blues”:

Now, if you want higher wages let me tell you what to do You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you You got to build you a union, got to make it strong But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long You get shorter hours, better working conditions Vacations with pay. Take your kids to the seashore

http://www.protestsonglyrics.net/Labor_Union_Songs/Talking-Union.phtml

We tend to focus on wages in union discussions, but unions aren’t merely about getting better pay, it’s about making better jobs. When LA teachers went out on strike in 2019, wages weren’t at the top of their list — they bargained for greenspace for every school, replacing rotting portables with permanent buildings, ending ICE entrapment of parents at the school gates, social workers and counselors for schools…and wages.

I really like how Nolan puts this. The way that the studios make money has changed: streaming is clobbering ad-supported TV and movie theater tickets. The studios are adapting. The workers want to adapt, too. The studios would rather “treat[] their work force as a disposable natural resource to be mined, used up, and then abandoned, as business dictates.”

A union gives workers “the same ability to adapt to changing industries that companies already have.” The studios want to leave workers behind. Unions give workers the collective power to say, “No. You’re taking us with you.”

Union workers are wealthier than their non-union counterparts, but that’s not just because of higher wages. As Nolan writes, “Unions make sure that the people get to adapt to changing industries, and not just the investors and the business owners.”

[Union workers] have a far greater ability to build coherent, long-term careers, as opposed to a constant treadmill of unstable short-term gigs. In non-union industries, businesses can just act like ships cutting through a desperate sea of workers, scooping up whoever they want and then tossing them overboard as soon as it’s convenient. In a union industry, though, the companies are forced to deal with the labor force as an equal. The workers have their own damn boat.

Advocates for market capitalism insist that market forces increase prosperity for everyone. They say that, in the end, having corporations serve their shareholders results in corporations serving everyone.

But a comparison of unionized and nonunionized industries reveals the hollowness of that prospect. Hollywood is wildly profitable and it pays every kind of worker well. That’s because workers have solidarity across sectors and trades. Striking writers like jonrog1 are calling on supporters to donate to the Entertainment Community Fund:

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654168529728307204

The Entertainment Community Fund supports everyone else who is affected by the work-stoppage, all the other creative and craft trades whose work has been halted by the writers’ struggle. If you want to support these workers, make sure you select “Film and TV” from the drop-down menu when you donate (we gave $100):

https://entertainmentcommunity.org/

Because all the workers are in this together. As Adam Conover explains in this amazing CNN clip, David Zazlav, the head of CNN parent-company Warner-Discovery, made a quarter of a billion dollars last year, enough to pay all the demands of all the writers:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL-YwKO81go

And Carol Lombardini, spokesvillain for the studio cartel AMPTP, told the press that “”Writers are lucky to have term employment.” As John Rogers says, she “wiped out the doubt of every writer who wasn’t sure this negotiation really IS so important, that it actually IS about turning us into gig workers.”

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654506611086606336

The stakes in this strike are the same as the stakes in every strike: will workers get a fair share of the value their labor creates, or will that value be piled up in the vaults of $250,000,000/year CEOs? It’s not like the studios especially hate writers — like all corporations, they hate all their workers. The same tactics that they’re using to make it so writers can’t pay the rent today will be turned on every other kind of Hollywood worker tomorrow — and when the writers win this one, they’ll support those workers, too.

There’s a lot of concern about AI displacing creative labor, but the only entity that can take away a writer’s wage is a human being, an executive at a studio. As has been the case since the time of the Luddites, the issue isn’t what the machine does, it’s who it does it for and who it does it to.

After all, as Charlie Stross points out, a corporation is just a “Slow AI,” remorselessly paperclip-maximizing its way through the lives and joy of the flesh-and-blood people who constitute its inconvenient gut-flora:

https://media.ccc.de/v/34c3-9270-dude_you_broke_the_future#video&t=3478

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Berkeley, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: Animators walk the picket-line during the Disney Animator's Strike in 1941.]

Image: LA Times https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Screen_Cartoonist%27s_Guild_strike_at_Disney.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #slow ai #luddites #solidarity #unions #writers strike #wgaw #labor

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siltyriver · 8 months

Text

Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — Ch.3 Memes/Shitposts

master post || <- ch.2 memes || ch.3

Danny: Wow this coffee is so good I hope nothing happens to it…

Jason, spilling Danny’s coffee all over his shirt: Oh no, I think you need to take that off. Right now ;)

Tim: Can you guys fucking STOP and flirt like NORMAL PEOPLE?

Bernard, secretly filming: No, don’t listen to him, keep going.

Danny, sleep deprived and in desperate need of caffeine: *catches a glimpse of Jason*

Danny, blinking: God?

Jason, absolutely smitten: Not quite, sweetie :’)

Danny: Oh, good, I thought I died again for a second

Jason: HUH?

Danny: Oh I think that barista gave me her number by accident lol it’s clearly meant for you

Jason, taking off his shirt: He’s so fucking stupid I must have him

Danny: lol yeah Amity is Super Haunted

Tim, full conspiracy board mode: Why the fuck have I never heard of Amity before?

Danny: Okay time to lay low and be completely normal. No Phantom, no problem :)

Also Danny the second Amity is brought up, no self control in sight and ready to spill everything: So ghosts are actually real and there’s this one really cool one named Phantom who’s basically my best friend —

Danny, telling a story and casually mentioning ghosts like it’s nothing bc he’s used to no one in Amity Park batting an eye at the paranormal: — and then Skulker came around and threatened to ‘mount my pelt’, which after the hundredth time hearing is just kind of like, ‘yeah, whatever dude we get it, can I just buy my ice cream now?’ like he’s a serious vibe killer y’know but his girlfriend Ember is pretty cool when she’s not mind controlling people with her music an—

Any Gothamite he speaks to thinking he’s insane: Yo, what the fuck?

Danny, confused: What? You’ve never seen a ghost? Weird :/

Danny, resigned to collecting strays: Whatchya got there, Ellie?

Ellie, holding a smoothie and two feral kittens: Uh, a smoothie.

Jason: Get me a notepad.

Tim: Are you going to just draw a dick like last time?

Jason: … No.

Tim: You hesitated.

#jisvis #jisvis ch.3 #jisvis ch.3 shitposts #vee creates #dpxdc

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rispwr · 29 days

Text

still with you - JK - SPECIAL - FINAL

pairings : ex!jk x ex!reader, barista/producer!yoongi x reader

genre : fluff, angst

context : after everything that happened, yoongi can't keep this a secret to himself. you deserved to know, little did you know he has a special suprise for you.

word count:1k+ words

warnings/contents : dirty talking, slutty lingerie, yoongi LOVES YOUR BOOBS, oral (m recieving), big c yoongi, praising, yeahh

songs : right side of my neck, the part and after the party, die for you, pied piper.

Yoongi's POV

It's been four years since I managed to get Jungkook and his wife thrown in jail.

Four years of keeping this secret from Y/N.

Every time I look at her, the weight of what I'm hiding grows heavier. I know she deserves to know—she has the right to know that justice was served, that those who hurt her paid the price.

But how do you bring up something like that? How do you tell the person you love that you went behind their back to make sure the people who hurt them were punished?

I've been waiting for the right time, but maybe there's never a perfect moment for something like this.

The thought of telling her, seeing the shock and pain on her face, has kept me silent for too long. But now... now I feel like I can't wait any longer.

As I sit on the couch, trying to distract myself with mindless TV, an idea suddenly comes to me. A way to tell her that doesn't feel like dropping a bomb on our lives. It's not perfect, but it's better than this gnawing silence.

"Heyyy, babyy! I missed youuu, hm," Y/N's voice rings out as she bursts through the door. She doesn't even pause before she's in my arms, wrapping herself around me like a warm blanket. I hug her back tightly, lifting her chin so I can see her face. There's something about the way her eyes light up when she sees me that makes everything else fade away. I lean down, brushing my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. "I missed you more," I whisper against her lips.

We pull back slightly, just enough to look at each other, but I don't let go. My hand stays on her waist, grounding us both in the moment. She looks up at me with that curious glint in her eyes—the one that always makes me think she's up to something.

"Hey, babe," she starts, her voice soft but teasing. "My friend Joonie told me that Jungkook and his wife went to jail four years ago?" She pauses, watching my reaction closely. There's a slight smile on her lips, as if she finds the whole thing bizarre.

Relief floods through me, but I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. "Mhm?" I hum, encouraging her to continue.

She tilts her head, that small smile still playing on her lips. "Crazy, right? I didn't even know that. Do you know why he got into jail?"

I force myself to shrug casually, keeping my tone light. "I've heard some things, but I don't know the full story," I lie, letting her take the lead in the conversation. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my face relaxed, waiting to see where she takes this.

She nods, her expression thoughtful. "I guess it's for the best, though," she says quietly. "After everything... it feels like some sort of closure, you know?"

I nod along, my throat tightening at her words. I want so badly to tell her the truth, to show her that I was the one who made sure justice was served. But I bite my tongue, knowing it's not the right moment yet. Not here, not now.

As the conversation shifts to other topics, I can't help but feel the tension ease a little. We talk about our plans for the evening, and before I know it, Y/N is inviting me to watch horror movies with her later that night. I agree, relieved that she doesn't seem to suspect anything.

Weeks pass, and Halloween is just around the corner. Y/N's been talking about it for days, excited to spend the holiday with her family. She loves Halloween—everything from the spooky decorations to the scary movies, it's like she's a kid again. I decide to surprise her, booking us a Halloween vacation with her family.

The night before we leave, I take her to get her nails done, making sure everything is perfect. I want this trip to be special, not just because it's Halloween, but because I know what's coming. I've been planning this for weeks, and now it's finally time.

We arrive at the vacation spot—a cozy cabin decorated for Halloween—and Y/N is absolutely in love with it. The place is decked out with all the classic decorations: carved pumpkins, cobwebs, and a few strategically placed skeletons. It's perfect.

As we settle into our room, I turn to her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Hey, I have a present for you," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. She looks up at me, surprised but intrigued.

"A present? What's the occasion?" she asks with a grin.

"You'll see," I say, my tone teasing. But then I take a deep breath, my expression growing serious. "But before I give it to you, you have to promise me one thing."

She looks at me curiously, her head tilting to the side. "What's that?"

"You have to promise me you won't be mad," I say, my voice soft but firm.

Her brows furrow in confusion, but she nods slowly. "Okay... I promise."

I walk over to my bag, pulling out a folder that I've kept hidden for four years. My hands tremble slightly as I hand it to her, my heart in my throat. "This is for you. Everything you need to know. Just... take your time with it."

She takes the folder from me, her expression shifting from curiosity to something more serious. She opens it slowly, her eyes scanning the contents. As she reads, I see the color drain from her face, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

"Yoongi... what is this?" she whispers, her voice shaking.

"It's everything," I say quietly. "Everything that happened. the reports and the justice that was served. I... I made sure they paid for what they did to you. I couldn't let them get away with it."

Tears well up in her eyes as she continues to read, her hands trembling. "You... you did this? For me?"

I nod, my heart breaking as I see the pain and disbelief on her face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just... I wanted to protect you. I wanted to make sure you were okay before I brought all this up."

She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face. "Yoongi... I... I can't believe you did this. I thought..."

I move closer, wrapping my arms around her as she breaks down in my arms. "You don't have to live with it anymore," I whisper into her hair. "You're free now, Y/N. You're safe."

We stay like that for a long time, holding each other as she cries. I can feel the weight of the past four years finally lifting off her shoulders, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Later that evening

after she's had time to process everything, I ask her to come downstairs with me. She's still a bit shaky, her emotions raw, but she nods and follows me.

When we get downstairs, she gasps in surprise. The room is decorated in a soft, romantic purple theme—her favorite color. There are fairy lights strung up everywhere, casting a warm, magical glow over the room. In the center, there's a small table with candles and flowers, and in the background, our favorite song is playing softly.

"Yoongi... what is this?" she asks, her voice filled with awe.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "This... this is the second part of your gift," I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. I drop down on one knee, holding the box out to her. "Y/N, these past few years with you have been the happiest of my life. You've brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me."

I open the box, revealing the ring inside..an elegant design that I know she'll love. "Will you marry me, Y/N?"

Her hands fly to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and happiness. Tears well up in her eyes again, but this time they're tears of joy. She nods, a sob escaping her lips as she whispers, "Yes... yes, Yoongi, I'll marry you."

I slip the ring onto her finger, and she pulls me up into a tight hug, burying her face in my chest as she cries happy tears. I hold her close, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

As we stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, I know that this is just the beginning of our forever.

later

we then get to our room as i slowly put her on the bed. "baby i love you so much" she said wrapping her arms around my neck, showering me with kisses. "you've been a good boy" she then says as her hands makes its way from my neck to my lips, her thumb caressing my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine.

"mhm?" i hummed "i think for everything you've done for me all these years...you need a reward" she gives me a seductive smile. "i think i do" i replied to her.

my lips then brushed against hers. our kiss becoming more and more intimate, her hands makes its way to unbutton my pants. "impatient much?" i chuckled "mhm so what if i am?" she says. i then pull up her grey silky dress up, revealing her purple lacy panties.

soaking wet.

"may i?" i asked her, making sure i have her consent. "ofcourse you can yoongi" she nods

i then rubbed her clothed, soaking folds. "so wet?" i look at her making eye contact as the more i rubbed the more she releases her arousal. "please yoongi" i then finally take off her dress revealing her bra.

her lacy purple bra with a tied bow that i needed to untie in order to take it off. "like it? it's your reward baby" she says, smirking at me, her fingers drawing patterns on my arm. "costume made?" i ask as she hummed.

"best present ever" i murmurred as i gently untie her bra, taking my time to be gentle as much as i can.

the bra fell revealing her bare breast. i then starts circling my tounge all over her nipple as she lets out whiny noises.

she then stops me and orders me to sit down, my back resting on the headboard.

"okay princess. whatever you want" i follow her order and do what she told me to do.

she then lays on her stomach, unzipping my zipper and pulls down my pants along with my underwear.

she took her hands and teasingly started stroking it "mhm?" she says as she fastens her pace. i rocked my head back from her touch "fuck y/n" i grunt as she then starts putting it in her mouth.

normally with anyone of even my hand it would always take me so long for me to come but with y/n fuck. just her and that slutty lingere can already make me come.

i felt my orgasm starts getting close "fuck y-y/n...i-i-i'm c-close" i stuttered from all the pleasure i've felt. "can i come??" i asked her, panting. sweat dripping over me.

as soon as i saw her nod i then finally release my come. she took her mouth away taking my cock to her face as i release my cum on her face.

she then gives the tip of my cock a kiss before going to me.

i cupped her face "fuck. you're so beautifull" i praised her, taking my white release from her face to her breast.

we then switched places. she was now under me.

"can i?" i asked again as my tip brushes her entrance. "mhm" she nods. i then put my cock in, giving her time to stretch herself and adjust to my size. "tell me when i can move" i tell her. "you can m-move now" she replies. i then start to thrust into her, my hands cupping her boobs.

"f-fuck.. you drive me so crazy y/n" i grunt as i fasten my pace. i then took my hand from her boob to her clit, circling it making her body arch from the pleasure. "a-ahh yoongi!" she screams "like it??" i asks her "m-mhm" she moans. "words baby. words" i said lifting her chin "yes! yes.. please" she replies to me, her eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

"i'm cumming" she says "me too" i reply. "c-cum in me yoongi. please" she begs me.

i then finally felt my orgasm again as i finally release into her, covering up her walls into white as our cum mixes together.

i then pull out and gets a wet wipe from the bedside to wipe the mess i made with her, giving her aftercare. "you tired?" i ask her as she gasps for air. "no. care for a round 2?" she fires back making me chuckle "such a dirty girl"

few weeks later Yoongi's POV

The room was filled with soft laughter and the faint sound of wedding planning. Y/N and I were sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by swatches of fabric, invitations, and a laptop open to various wedding venues. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where everything felt perfect.

"Yoongi, what do you think of this color scheme?" Y/N asked, holding up a piece of paper with a mix of lavender and deep purple shades.

I leaned over, taking a closer look. "It's beautiful. It'll look amazing with the decorations we talked about."

Y/N smiled, clearly pleased. "I think so too. And what about the invitations? Do you like this design?"

She showed me a mock-up of our wedding invitation, with elegant script and floral accents. I nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. "It's perfect. I think it's exactly what we want."

As we continued discussing details, an idea struck me. I reached for the stack of invitations and picked one up.

I took out one of the invitations and carefully addressed it to Jungkook. After sealing it in an envelope, I set it aside to be mailed

#jungkook ff #bts #bts x reader #rispwr #mintyoongi #bts smut #yoongi #yoongi x you #suga #yoongi smut #jungkook angst #yoongi fluff

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willalove75 · 1 year

Note

Hii, can I request Rebecca X reader. Something similar to the plot where she met the Dutch man and had an amazing day . She met reader is Paris (the most beautiful woman line is so 🥺). they met in a bar or coffee shop and spent a wonderful weekend together ? Rebecca is surprised that reader still wants to see her considering she's younger . She actually felt free and happy ,no stress and not judged . Flirting, fluff , anything. You write her character so well and accurately 😁

I LOVE THIS🥺🥺 And thank you so much!! I'm glad I'm able to do her justice!😄💕

Thank you so much for the request!!💕💕

Walking through the streets of Paris, you're trying your best to not get lost. You left your hostel almost an hour ago trying to find the café you went to the day before but since you know virtually no French, your search hasn't been going well.

You stumble across a different café, it wasn't the one you were looking for but you're in desperate need of food and caffeine so you cut your losses and walk in.

You walk up to the counter and butcher your order of a tea and croissant, the barista manages to understand you, but you still receive a ton of dirty looks from the staff and other patrons of the café.

You're handed your order and turn to find a place to sit down. In the corner of the shop you see a beautiful blond woman gazing out the window, sipping on her drink. The café isn't super crowded, but you decide to shoot your shot and ask her if you can join her. She's absolutely stunning so it takes you a few seconds to gain up the courage to put one foot in front of the other.

As you're walking over she looks away from the window and your eyes meet, her gorgeous green eyes take your breath away for a moment. It's in that second you realize that there's a good chance she's French and doesn't speak any English and you start to panic, but you can't back out now. You take the last few steps up to her table and she smiles at you.

"Hi, um, is this seat taken?" You shyly ask.

The woman smiles, her eyes sparkling, it would be a miracle if she understands you right now.

"No, not at all."

You exhale a sigh of relief and sit down.

"Oh thank god you speak English. It didn't dawn on me that there was a really good chance you only spoke French until it was too late for me to abandon ship." You say with a laugh as you sit.

The woman softly laughs. "Well today must be your lucky day."

"It certainly seems that way. I'm y/n, sorry for interrupting your breakfast, this might sound super cheesy but I saw you and I was like 'wow she's absolutely beautiful' and I had to at least try and talk to you." You look away as you feel your cheeks getting red.

"You're so sweet, thank you so much. I'm Rebecca." She reaches out her hand and you shake it. "So what brings you to Paris y/n?"

"My friend and I were supposed to come here together but she got covid before we left so she couldn't come."

"Oh no, so you're here all by yourself?" She asks.

"Yup, it's even more unfortunate because she was the one who spoke French and I don't speak an ounce of it, so it's safe to say that most of the people I interact with are not my biggest fans." You say as you look over at the barista who catches your eye and gives you a dirty look. You turn back to Rebecca and you both laugh. "So why are you in Paris?"

"I had some time off from work so I decided to go on a little trip by myself."

"Oh that's cool, I'm guessing you speak French?"

"Oui, je parle couramment le français."

(Yes, I am fluent in French)

"I have no idea what any of that meant but I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's a yes?"

"Yes," she says with a laugh. "It means 'yes, I'm fluent in French.'"

"Oh that's really cool! Where did you learn French?"

"I learned it in school, we started learning young and I picked it up really easily. Do you know any languages?"

"Not really, I took Spanish in middle school and high school but I didn't like it and forgot just about all of it by the time I graduated. I do know sign language though. Well, American sign language that is."

"That's really interesting, how much sign language do you know?"

"I'm pretty much fluent." You begin to sign as you speak. "I can practically have this whole conversation in asl. I took a few classes in high school because my friend convinced me to sign up for it and I fell in love with it. They offered asl classes at my college so I just kept with it. I don't get to use it often, but it's a fun party trick." You say with a laugh.

You watch Rebecca follow your hands as you sign, she looks mesmerized by it, like she's watching a ballet dancer.

"That's really, really fascinating." She says with a smile.

"Yeah, but I do have to be careful when I'm not in the US because signs in asl could mean something completely different in another languages sign language. With my luck I'll sign a song I'm listening to or something and end up accidentally cursing out an old man." You say with a laugh.

Rebecca laughs and you take a sip of your tea as you giggle.

"Where are you from in America?" Rebecca asks.

"I'm from New York." You say with a smile.

"Oh you're from New York City?"

You laugh "No, although it's always really funny to me that everyone assumes you're from NYC when you tell someone who's not from New York that you're from New York. I'm from the suburbs, but the city is only like an hour or so away. Where are you from?"

"I can understand that, I'm from London."

"Oh cool! I'm actually going there on Monday! Where in London? Like near Buckingham Palace?"

Rebecca laughs "No, New York and London are similar in that it seems that people assume when you say you're from there, they automatically think of the city. I live in Richmond, about 45 minutes from Buckingham Palace."

"Ah, I guess New York and London are much more similar than I would have expected."

"Will you be travelling to London by yourself as well?" She asks.

"Yup, we were going to spend five days in Paris and five in London and then head home, although I may extend my stay if I'm really enjoying myself in London, but we'll see."

"Ten days is a long time to be alone." She says.

"Oh it sure is, I was starting to go a little stir crazy which is also one of the reasons I decided to come talk to you. But mostly because you're really beautiful and I knew I was going to kick myself if I didn't at least try to strike up a conversation with you."

You swear you see Rebecca blush a little as she brings her cup to her lips. She looks out the window and back at you.

"This may ridiculous, and please don't feel obligated to say yes, but I was going to take a walk along the Seine, would you like to join me?"

You begin to feel butterflies in your stomach and you immediately try and squash them.

"Yes, absolutely. I would love to."

You finish your drink and your croissant and you both leave the café and head towards the Seine. You make small talk as you walk, Rebecca points out different buildings and structures, talking about their history. You watch her as she talks about what you two walk past, the passion she has in her eyes and the excitement that radiates off of her is precious, even though you barely know each other, you feel a bond already.

"So what have you done so far since you've been here?" She asks.

"Well, I got in really early Wednesday morning so I checked in and just wandered around for most of the day, truthfully I got lost for about three hours and managed to find my way back by some miracle." You both laugh. "And Thursday I went to Versailles and spent the day there and yesterday I walked around the Louvre for the entire day on accident, that place is massive. But I've just been doing touristy things for the most part."

"You haven't been to the Eiffel Tower yet?" She asks.

"Not yet, I mean I've seen it, but I was planning on doing that sometime today, I want to see it sparkle at night. I heard it was beautiful."

"It is very pretty, although I did tell a friend of mine once that the Eiffel Tower was just a lamppost with a publicist."

You laugh out loud "Stop, that's really fucking funny."

The two of you walk around some more, making small talk, laughing, just genuinely enjoying each others company.

After a few hours of walking around you both decide you need a rest. Rebecca says she knows of a good restaurant that's more of a "locals" place where you can get lunch and you two head there.

Rebecca asks for a table for two in what sounds like perfect French, although you genuinely would have no idea if it was perfect or completely butchered, but whatever she said, it sounded great. The waiter brings you to your table and hands you menu's. You both look over the menu's and she translates everything for you. You both decide on what you want to order and the waiter comes back to take your orders. Rebecca orders in perfect French, once again, and you completely butcher the name of the dish you want. The waiter gives you a dirty look and takes the menu's and walks away.

As soon as he's out of ear shot you and Rebecca bust out laughing.

"Holy shit that guy hates me."

"I can't believe he gave you that look!"

"Oh I can, I've been getting that look from everyone since I got here." You say as you laugh.

"Oh no!" Rebecca says as she laughs.

The waiter comes back over with your drinks and you both try your hardest to hold back your laughter, the waiter gives you both that look this time and as soon as he turns his back you both burst out laughing again.

You food comes out and you enjoy your lunch, Rebecca leaves to go to the bathroom when she's finished eating and when she gets back she grabs her bag.

"Ready to go?" She asks you.

"Wait, what about the check?"

"I took care of it."

"Oh my god no you did not!"

The waiter hands Rebecca the receipt and she thanks him in French.

"Dude! You did not have to-"

"I know, but I wanted to treat my new friend to lunch for her first time here in Paris."

"Thank you, but then I'm buying dinner!" You pause for a second and try to save yourself, you don't want her to think she has to be stuck with you all day because you're alone, or make her think you assume she'll go out to dinner with you. "Or something." You quickly add.

Rebecca puts her hand to her chin and thinks for a second.

"Um, nope. I'm buying you dinner also." She says with a smile. "If you would like to have dinner with me as well, that is." She says a little shyly.

"I would love to, but I don't want you to feel like you have to pay for me!" You say as the two of you leave the restaurant.

"I don't, I want to."

"Are you sure? Dinners here can get expensive and I would hate to-"

"Don't worry about that, trust me, it's not a problem." She says with a smile. "So what else were you planning on doing today?"

"I wanted to see the Notre Dame, the Sainte-Chapelle, I'd like to see the arch, your usual first-time in Paris touristy things."

"Well then allow me to be your tour guide."

"Are you sure? I mean don't get me wrong I'd love to keep hanging out with you, but I'd feel so bad if you wasted your whole day chaperoning me around and not get to do whatever you planned on doing today."

"Well actually my plan was to find a pretty girl that was in Paris all alone and give her a tour of the city." She says with a wink and you laugh. "No but truthfully, my plan was to walk around and shop, that's it. I'd much rather do this with you."

"Okay, if you insist. Where to next my lovely tour guide?"

Rebecca spends the rest of the afternoon showing you the city, you see the Norte Dame, the Sainte-Chapelle, and make your way across the city to the arch. You feel like you're spending the day with one of your best friends, not a stranger you just met that morning at a random café you decided to wander in to.

"Do you want to come get a drink with me before dinner?" Rebecca asks.

"Yeah, absolutely." You say with a smile.

"Okay, the bar in the hotel I'm staying at is gorgeous, and I can make reservations at one of my favorite restaurants."

"That sounds perfect. Is there a dress code for the restaurant?"

"Oh good point,"

"I have fancy restaurant clothes in my hostel I can change into."

"You're staying in a hostel?" She asks, surprised.

"Hell yeah, it's actually pretty nice, and it was like dirt cheap."

"Where is it?"

"Close by the Notre Dame!"

"The Notre Dame?! How the hell did you end up all the way by the café this morning?"

"I was looking for a café I went to yesterday but I couldn't find it and got lost, so I just walked into the the first café I found, and it was that one. It's quite serendipitous if you ask me."

Rebecca shakes her head at you and hails a cab and you both get dropped off at your hostel.

"This is it?" She asks.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, it's actually nicer than I thought it was going to be."

"See? I told you!" You tease her. She rolls her eyes at you and you walk inside.

You bring her to your room and she looks horrified when she sees that you're sharing the room with two other people.

"It's not bad, they're a nice German couple."

"You can't stay here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Grab your stuff, stay with me in my hotel, I have a suite with an extra bedroom you're more than welcome to stay in."

"Oh god Rebecca I can't do that I don't want to impose-"

"You aren't and you can, I can't let you stay in this hostel, alone, with two random German people. Come on." She says with a smile as she grabs your bag.

"Are you sure?" You ask as she walks out.

"Yes!" She says, walking down the hall with your luggage.

You check out of the hostel and take a cab to Rebecca's hotel. Your jaw hits the floor when you realize she's staying at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée.

"Rebecca, are you fucking joking?"

"What?"

"The fucking Hôtel Plaza Athénée? This is your hotel? Where you have a suite with two rooms?!"

"Yeah, I stay here in the presidential every time I come to Paris."

You look at her like she's insane. "What the fuck do you do for a living?" You ask as she pulls you into the hotel.

"I run a football club."

"Football? I didn't even think football was popular over here."

"Soccer."

"Oh, right." You laugh. "Ah, gotta love the American ignorance." You joke and the two of you laugh.

You get into her suite and your jaw is on the floor, it's absolutely stunning, it has a full living room, fireplace, two big, gorgeous bedrooms, each with their own master bathroom. Rebecca pulls the curtains open and you see the Eiffel Tower perfectly from the view.

"Holy shit." You say quietly, completely captivated by the view. "This is amazing." You turn and look at her and see her with a smile on her face.

"Isn't it?" She says, gazing out the window.

You both admire the view for a moment and eventually you bring your stuff into your room and get changed. You walk out in a cute cocktail dress, your most comfortable pair of heels, your hair pulled back on one side and a little bit of makeup. You see Rebecca sitting at the little desk on the phone, you assume she's making dinner reservations. She hangs up and looks at you.

"Wow, you look beautiful y/n." She says with a smile.

"Thank you," you say. She stands up and your jaw practically hits the floor. "Jesus Christ," you quietly say. Rebecca is wearing a dark blue dress that hugs every curve on her body perfectly. You figured she had a good shape when you were with her all day, but the jeans, t-shirt and jacket she was wearing hid a lot of it. You never expected her to look like a fucking model.

"What?" She asks a little worried, looking down. "Does this not look good?"

"No, holy shit no, you just look amazing. Like I new you were beautiful, but I didn't know you literally had a perfect hour glass figure, wow." You shake your head to try and snap out of it. "I'm sorry, I'm no better than a man sometimes." You laugh as your cheeks turn pink.

You're worried you offended her, but you look at her and it actually looks like she found it endearing.

"Well thank you, I appreciate the compliment. Ready to go?"

"Yes! Absolutely."

You two head down to the bar and grab a few drinks before dinner. You chat and laugh as you enjoy your drinks. Once you finish, Rebecca pays the bill, against your wishes, and you head to the restaurant.

The restaurant is absolutely stunning, you can tell just by looking at it that it's a 5-star restaurant. You're brought to your seats and given menu's. Just like she did at lunch, Rebecca translates the menu for you and this time you let her order for the both of you in French, you've had enough nasty looks from waiters for one day. Your drinks arrive and you both cheers to new friends.

You're talking about your lives, where you grew up, what your friends are like, just generally getting to know each other.

"How old are you anyway?" She asks.

"I'm 28-"

"Oh my god. I could be your mother." She puts her face in her hands.

"Oh stop it no you can not! How old are you?"

"48." She says quietly.

"Oh shut up there's no way, I don't believe that for a second!"

"I am!"

"You look damn good for your age then, I thought you were like 40, 45 at the very oldest, and like in a 'wow she looks young for 45' way."

"Well thank you." She says as she laughs.

Your food arrives and smells delicious, you both dig in and laugh and chat over dinner. You order more drinks and dessert and when you're finished Rebecca pays the bill and you two head out.

"Okay, now for our last stop of the night." She says, looking at you. "The Eiffel Tower."

She grabs your hand and leads you to it. She buys two tickets and you take the elevator up to the very top. The sun is just setting and you stand by the railing, stunned by the beauty in front of you.

"Woah." You say with wonder in your eyes.

Rebecca stands next to you, both of you taking in the gorgeous view. You both stand there for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying each others company and the gorgeous sunset.

Once the sun sets Rebecca turns to you.

"Come down to one of the lower decks with me."

She grabs your hand and you follow her down a few flights of stairs to a lower level. You stand by the railing and look across the city, a cold breeze passes through causing you to shiver.

"Here," Rebecca says, taking off her scarf and wrapping it around you. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." Her scarf smells like her, you close your eyes as you inhale the scent, you never though a scent would match a view so well, but for some reason, it just pulls the entire experience all together.

The lights on the tower shut off and you quickly turn around, unsure of what's happening.

"Woah, why did the lights go out?" You ask, looking around to see if anyone else is reacting.

After a few moments they come back on and you realize they're flickering. You look up to the top of the tower where you were earlier and you realize that the tower is sparkling.

Your eyes light up like a child on Christmas day, you stand there in awe as you watch the tower sparkle above you. You look over at Rebecca and see that she's looking at you, looking at the lights. The lights flashing across her face make her eyes glitter, you don't think you've ever seen someone look so beautiful as she does right now. You both look into each others eyes for a moment.

You're not sure how it happened or who made the first move, but in an instant your lips are together. You bring your hands to her face and she holds onto your waist. Her lips are the softest lips you've ever felt in your life, her tongue slides into your mouth and dances around yours. This moment is absolutely perfect and you don't ever want it to end.

What felt like hours later, but in reality was probably only a minute or two, your lips finally part. She gently brushes her lips against yours, you can feel her heart beating quickly as she holds you against her; she can probably feel that yours is racing too.

"Do you want to go back-" she asks quietly.

"Mhm." You mutter as you shake your head yes. Your lips meet once more and after they part you make your way back to the hotel.

You were worried that the moment would pass by the time you got back to the hotel, but the closer you got, the more eager the two of you became.

You get into her suite and you put your bags down, take your jackets off, you remove Rebecca's scarf and she pulls you into her again for another kiss. She kisses you passionately for a minute before leading you into her bedroom.

You both kick off your shoes and Rebecca comes up behind you and places her hands on your hips and kisses your neck. You sigh and lean back into her, tilting your head so she has more access to your neck. Her hands travel up your sides and you feel her move your hair aside and pull down the zipper of your dress. You let it fall to the ground and turn to face her and gesture for her to turn around. You grab the zipper and slide it down, you kiss down her back as the zipper exposes her skin. Her dress falls to the ground and you unclip her bra and you reach behind your back and unclip yours.

She leads you to the bed and pulls you into her, your bodies pressing against each other, your lips interlocked, your fingers tangled in her hair and her hands exploring your body. This might be the most passion you've ever felt in your life.

The night goes by in a blur. You have flashes of memories of you kissing her down her body, the way her skin felt on your lips, you remember the sounds you both made as you panted, the moans that escaped from her lips when you went down on her. How sweet she tasted, what her fingers felt like in your hair as she grabbed hold of you, the way her back arched when you hit that sweet spot deep inside her, how warm and wet she was, the way her skin felt under your fingers as you held onto her hips. The cries she made were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard as you brought her to her climax and took her over the edge. You remember how her legs gently shook as she came down from her high, that she took a minute just to be able to catch her breath.

You remember the dominance she showed when she flipped you onto your back, how she definitely left marks as her lips traveled down your body. The ticklish sensations when she kissed and nibbled the inside of your thighs, what her tongue felt like when she finally made contact with your dripping center, the way her hair felt between your fingers as you grabbed hold of her. The sounds that you made when her fingers curled deep inside you, the way she felt inside of you, how your hips bucked wildly when she brought you to the edge. You remember seeing stars when you felt her lips wrap around your clit when she pushed you over the edge, the way you cried out her name when she had you ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

You remember her wrapping you in her arms when you were done, how she slowly and passionately kissed you, how your legs felt tangled with hers under the sheets. You remember looking into her gorgeous green eyes, how they reflected the sparkles from the glittering Eiffel Tower out the window. You realized in that moment you've never felt so connected, so bonded, so in love with anyone else in your life. Sure you had just met that morning, but over the course of the day you became closer to her faster than you have with anyone else. You let out a relaxed sigh and closed your eyes when she nuzzled her nose against yours, you felt her chest rise and fall against yours as she drifted off to sleep, you drifting off to sleep with her.

You wake up the next morning convinced that yesterday was just a beautiful dream. As your senses wake up you recognize her scent, you realize that you're still wrapped in each others arms, you try and savor the moment before you open your eyes, anxious that once you do, everything that you both had last night would be gone. You feel her shift in your arms and you open you eyes to meet hers, she has a worry in her eyes that makes your heart hurt a little. You can tell that she's worried about the same thing that you are, you smile and tuck a piece of her golden locks behind her ear, your hand coming to a rest on her cheek, caressing it with your thumb. A smile crosses her face and she brings her lips to yours, you hold onto her as you kiss her with a soft passion. Your lips part and you look into each others eyes for a moment.

"I was so worried I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a dream." You quietly say as you study the details of her face.

"So was I, or that I would wake up to an empty bed, or that I would wake up and you would tell me it was a mistake." She quietly responds as she strokes your hair.

"It certainly was not." You say with a smile as you gently kiss her.

You see a sadness in her eyes when your lips part.

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned.

"When are you going to London?"

"My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. Why? When do you go back?"

"Tonight." She says with a sadness in her voice that makes your heart hurt.

"Well, then I'll see you when I get in tomorrow."

"You don't have-"

"No, I want to. I don't want to not ever see you again after you leave tonight."

She looks a little surprised. "Really?"

"Really. I know it's crazy because we've known each other for literally 24 hours, but, I really like you. I haven't felt this close to someone in a long time, I don't want to lose this."

"Even though I'm 20 years your senior?"

"I don't care about that, not even a little bit. It wasn't even something that crossed my mind once."

She pulls you into her and kisses you, a smile left on both of your faces when you part.

"Where were you planning on staying in London?"

"Another hostel." You say with a smile.

"Well, that's not happening. Stay with me." She says as she looks deep into your eyes.

"I would love to."

"I'll have my driver pick you up from the airport and bring you to my house."

"You driver? How much fucking money do you have?!" You say as you laugh.

"A lot." She says with a laugh as she kisses you again.

"Hm, lucky me." You joke between kisses.

Rebecca laughs into the kiss.

You spend the rest of your last day together in Paris in her suite, most of it was spent in bed. You had breakfast and lunch delivered to the room and you both sat in the living room in fluffy robes laughing and cuddling while you ate. You laid in bed together for as long as possible, trying to stretch out every minute before she had to leave to catch her flight. Rebecca extended the room reservation for another night so you could stay. When it finally came time, you helped her pack her things and you got dressed and walked her down to the lobby.

You felt ridiculous for having a lump in your throat as you make your way downstairs, not only will you see her literally tomorrow, you've known her for less than two days. But in those two days you fell completely head over heels in love with her, even though neither of you have said it out loud, you're pretty sure she did too.

The driver puts her bags in the car and she stands in front of you and wraps her arms around you, you wrap your arms around her and you two hold each other for a minute. You look up at her and she meets your gaze, you look into her gorgeous eyes and she leans down and kisses you. When you part you realize her eyes are glassy, yours are too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She asks.

"Yes, absolutely."

"Good." She says as she lets go of you. "I l- I'll see you tomorrow." She catches herself from blurting out the three words you can't wait to be able to say to her.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She turns to get into the car. "Oh shit wait!" You say and she turns back to you.

"What?"

You start laughing and pull out your phone. "I need your number."

Rebecca starts laughing, a few of her tears escape and trickle down her cheeks. "Oh my god." She says grabbing your phone. "I can't believe we didn't do this yet."

She puts her number in your phone and hands it back to you. She kisses you once more and heads to the car.

"I'll see you tomorrow y/n."

"I'll see you tomorrow Rebecca."

She waves as the car pulls away and you watch it until it's out of sight. You look down at your phone and see her phone number and the contact name she put in for herself.

"Rebecca Welton💕"

You send her a text

I can't wait for tomorrow❤

You immediately get a response

Me either💕

You smile down at your phone and hold it close to your chest. You head back into the hotel and your phone starts ringing as you get into the suite. You look down and see that your friend is calling you.

"Hey!"

"YOU'RE ALIVE THANK GOD!"

"Yea, very much alive." You say with a laugh.

"Well I didn't hear from you for over 24 hours and I got worried that you died!"

You open your texts and realize you have 5 missed calls and 20+ text messages from her and a few other people.

"Where the hell were you?!" She asks.

"In heaven."

"Okay, you're gonna have to elaborate."

You tell her about your adventures with Rebecca and give her most of the details, there are definitely some you keep to yourself. You tell her that you're meeting Rebecca in London tomorrow and how excited you were.

"So honestly, it's a good thing you weren't able to come, because if you did, I probably would have never met her." You said.

"Is this the plot of some French rom-com you watched or did you actually just live in a Paris fairytale for the last two days?"

"Fairytale, for sure."

You talk to her for a while and your friend looks her up and freaks out when she reads about who she is.

"No, don't tell me anything, I want her to tell me when she's ready, I don't want to google her to learn about her."

"You're such a sap, but fine. But I will tell you, she's hot, and rich as fuck."

"Oh, I know, she spoiled the shit out of me. Honestly, even if she didn't have all of that money, I'd still be going to see her in London tomorrow."

"Are you in love with her already?"

"I know how fucking crazy this is going to sound, but yeah, I think I am."

You two continue to talk and catch up for the next hour, after you get off of the phone with her you text Rebecca your flight info and you go out to a little restaurant for dinner and walk around for a bit. You get back to the hotel and get ready for bed, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to come.

You phone dings and you roll over in bed and see that you have a text from Rebecca.

12 hours left, I miss you.

You smile and your heart does summersaults, you reply to her.

12 hours too long, I miss you too. I can't wait to see you. Goodnight Rebecca.

You put your phone down and try to fall asleep, excited for tomorrow to come so you can hold Rebecca in your arms again.

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #willalove75 #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #wlw fanfic

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 1 month

Note

Saw your offer and I'm not enough of a horror writer to pull this off perhaps, but you just might be :)

The scene is two field researchers going out to check cameras in the wilderness. It could be day, it could be night, that's up to you. One of them sees a cool plant and pulls out their species identification app to see what it is, as field researchers are apt to do. As a joke, they point the camera of the identification app at their fellow researcher, except it doesn't identify them as human, but rather, some other entity.

That's the prompt! You can take this in any direction you want - maybe the monster eats the researcher, maybe this is news to both of them, whatever you like. I would tell this story to freak out the other field researchers I worked with, so I think having a full version would be awesome :)

You're the best!

Aww, thanks! To be honest, I was inspired by what you did for your 600 follower celebration :)) I do hope I did this justice! It ended up being just over 900 words, hehe

*****

It was a miserable day slogging through the driest bits of the marsh, flies all abuzz around us. The morning had been slated to be sunny, and in preparation of that I had slathered sunscreen all over me and a sunhat besides. Nonetheless, I was drenched in sweat, and all the mosquito repellant in the world couldn't have stopped the army that decided to feast on delicious type AB-.

Pierce was the sole saving grace of it. He might've been a weirdo, at least according to the other interns, but he cracked jokes, helped pull me out of those awful little mires where my foot would get stuck, and hoisted me on his shoulders to grab the cameras.

All through that walk, we saw not a single bird. It was almost as though they were avoiding something, and in a perverse way, I was grateful for that. In my current mood, I may well have thrown my backpack at any bird I came across, quit my internship, and left to go be a barista.

As we approached the umpteenth camera on our checklist, Pierce stopped me. “Say, what's that little guy over there?”

I stopped and let out a brief grunt of frustration. “Who cares? It's almost the end of our internship anyway- Oh, what is that?”

“It's a plant.” Pierce prodded a leaf experimentally.

“Yeah, I can tell. What the hell is it?” I'd spent far too much time garnering a reputation for myself as the plant-nerd amongst our group to be confounded by some random little sprout. “Give me a moment, I think it's time to try out that ID app, eh?”

I fished out my phone and aimed it at the plant. “Well, whaddya know? It's not showing. That's odd,” I muttered. “Is it working?”

“Gimme it,” Pierce replies, snatching the phone out of my hands. “Let's see if it can identify you.”

He froze. A shadow of something flickered across his face, before he plastered a fake smile on. “The latest update must've broken it ,I guess.”

“Really? Let me see!” I tried to take my phone back, curious. “Did it call me a tree or something?”

He lifted it up, just out of my reach, and took a step back. His smile grew more brittle, almost as if he were… afraid of me? “No, it's nothing. Ju- Just gonna close the app now, shall I?”

I shook my head. “Tell me what you saw,” I demanded. “What did it tell you I was? I assure you, it was lying.” I don't think my words were very convincing.

Shaking his head vigorously, he shuffled back, before tripping over a root. “Shit!” He scrambled even more, breath coming in little gasps. I could smell the fear in his sweat.

It made me hungry.

“Don't be like that, Pierce,” I cooed, stalking towards him. “It's almost the end of our internship. Be a good boy, and return my phone.”

He tried to struggle, he really did. But I had my hooks into him, and no mere mortal had ever escaped once they were in my clutches. I took the phone and glanced at it.

“Warning: Inhuman entity spotted? Danger level: High? Wowza, these things are getting good.” Mindlessly, I threw the phone into the water. “Perhaps I'll try for a degree in CS after this, get a good look at the insides of software development. At least that way I won't have to go out into the sun so often. Let me tell you: It really does make a girl appreciate her immortality all the more.”

My teeth were starting to protract, the result of being stimulated by- Damn it, the lectures I'd been going to were far too deeply ingrained into me. “Now, before we take down this last camera, let me ask you something: Have you ever seen me in the tapes we took?”

Pierce went still, connecting the dots. I laughed. “Oh, you sweet, sweet summer child. To be honest, I'm grateful you were so naive. I mean- I was certain I'd get caught at some point. A vampire wildlife researcher? That's almost as ridiculous as a vampire retail worker! Oh, but I did it. I think I deserve a treat for that, don't you?”

He struggled against invisible bonds, eyes flitting left and right. His teeth were gritted hard enough to show his jaw muscles, and I patted his cheek.

“Don't worry ‘bout a thing, P. It'll all be over soon,” I told him, baring my fangs. “I'll even make sure to get rid of the evidence afterwards.”

"Don't," he hissed, barely able to get his words past my grip. "Please, Elsie. This isn't you." I showed no signs of stopping, so he played his last, desperate card. "Someone- Someone will find out. They'll catch you."

"We're all alone in the woods, pal. Nobody's gonna find you. Ever." I paused. "Think on the bright side, though. You always wanted to give back to the environment. Now you get to! Your bones will fuel these trees for the weeks to come."

I leaned into his neck, which was already welling up from my little dengue-carrying bloodsucker cousins' bites, and ran my fangs along the artery that popped off out. “I'd say goodnight, but it's still light out. So, good afternoon, Pierce,” I whispered to his neck. “Good afternoon and good bye.”

Then I sank my fangs into his throat and drank him dry.

I think this is worthy of the taglist, so:

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@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @tragedycoded, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@xenascribbles, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @nczaversnick

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #my writing #creative writing #spilled ink #writing community #fantasy #short story #Horror #Asks #God what is it with me

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