#apparently i'm just a snob about drinks

[cha-melodius]

5 drinks to get to know me

Thanks for the tag @mirilyawrites, never seen this one before and it's fun!

French-blended black teas (rose, bergamot, caramel)

Belgian quad beer

Mint julep

>12 yo Speyside single malt Scotch (neat)

Rose & elderflower soda

Tagging @celeritas2997, @heytheredeann, @cricketnationrise, @rmd-writes, @welcometololaland, @clottedcreamfudge, @nicijones, and honestly anyone reading this, I want to get to know people through their drinks!

[ellecdc]

The Drink Snob

mafia!Remus Lupin x fem!reader | 3200 words

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: mentions of spiked drink (no one drinks it), reference to past spiked drinks, complaining about misogyny, bad reputation of American tourists in the UK (I'm sorry!)

The short of it was: it had been a long day.

The long of it though, by God, was that you really, really needed a drink.

You got to your favourite pub which was only a brisk 7-minute walk from the university; a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Irish pub which probably had several thousand identical pubs lined across the UK but that didn’t matter, dammit, because this one was special – this one was yours. You chuckled at the irony that you had moved half-way across the world to England only to sit yourself in an Irish chain pub that you’d likely be able to find back home a mere 6000 kilometers away.

You relished the feel of the warm air hitting your rosy cheeks after marching your ass down to the pub in the biting wind in naught but a long coat and a scarf. The warm air stung but in all the best ways as you shucked off your outer-layers and plopped down on a stool by the bar, unawares of anyone else within your vicinity other than the bartender promised to serve you your drinks.

“Alright there, Lass? What can I get for ye?” The fellow asked and you could have kissed him right then and there.

“Can I have a negroni and your tallest pint please.” You asked, hoping the desperation in your voice wasn’t noticeable – the fact that the bartender didn’t comment on the odd combination of drinks let you know that is was noticeable. No matter – you were desperate, what did you care?

Turns out you should have cared more.

“I’m sorry but I must tell you, that is an awful combination of drinks.” A lilting voice came from your left side. You groaned audibly and held your hands up to your temples like blinders to avoid even looking at the voice who dared to speak to you after such a day.

“S’pose its good nobody asked you then.” You muttered darkly. You didn’t make a habit of speaking to people this way often – people already spent enough of your time in the UK mistaking you for an American on account of your accent anyway, you needn’t add fuel to the fire by adding to an already bad reputation.

“Please tell me that you’re ordering for a friend. You’ve surely just ordered for someone who’s meeting you here?”

You knew better – you really did. You don’t let strange men in bars know that you’re alone; make them believe someone could show up to save you at any minute. But dammit, you’ve been fending off jackasses all day – what’s one more?

“Apparently, I live to disappoint men, sir, so no – both drinks are for me. Is that quite alright with you? I didn’t realize I had to pass this decision by the board.” You spat, finally turning your what you were sure was a burning gaze to this mystery guy on a stool to your left.

You hesitated in your ire for a moment: the man was quite a bit larger than you had pictured in your mind – not large in a particularly broad way but the man seemed to be excruciatingly tall; he sat basically spilling off his stool, while still managing to look elegant in doing so. He was dressed sharply but not in a way that made him stand out – respectable but forgettable, he blended into this bar well. Or he would if he hadn’t been so fucking handsome.

He had warm, honey-coloured curls that seemed to artfully fall in front of his face, and eyes to match. You’d never seen amber coloured eyes before, but you couldn’t seem to pull your gaze away from them. You did – by god you did – because the rest of the man was too enticing not too. He had a chunk missing out of his left eyebrow which was arched mischievously at what you assumed was your attitude with him, and his crooked smirk matched. He had a few scars littering his face – most were small, but there was one large one that crossed the bridge of his nose, and another nick on the right of his upper lip that may have continued onto his lower, but you didn’t want to get caught staring at his mouth. And of course, of-fucking-course he’d have a dimple. Why wouldn’t he? Could this day get any worse.

“What was the thought process, then?” He asked, his smirk growing deeper.

“What?” You guffawed. He couldn’t seriously be doing this; people didn’t do this, right?

He gestured between the two drinks sat in front of you with his own – a rum and coke if you guessed correctly. “Why those drinks, specifically? They don’t exactly pair well together.”  

You stared dumbly at this hot, audacious man. You hoped he’d decide you weren't worth the breath and move along. He only stared back at you.

“There wasn’t any.”

“Hm?” He queried.

“There wasn’t any. Thought process, I mean.” You muttered, taking a sip of the negroni. “I like both drinks – usually separately, but I’ve been dreaming about getting my ass down here since practically 9:30 this morning and I couldn’t choose which I wanted first and I knew that I planned on getting at least a little bit tipsy in order to pretend I didn’t have a completely mind-fucking day so I thought ‘fuck it, I’ll order both’ and I thought since it was no one’s business but my own what I put into my body that I could get away with it but clearly, I was wrong.” You felt winded after your mini rant as you looked back at the man. He seemed genuinely entertained at your story, though his eyes grew a bit softer.

“Thinking of drinking at 9:30 am, hm?” He pondered out loud. “You know, that’s usually the sign of a problem; one might call it alcoholism.”

You barked a laugh. “Yeah, you call it alcoholism, I call it Gilderoy Lockhart.”

“Ah, so boy-problems then, is it?” He asked in a laugh.

You shot him a warning look. “It is not like that.”

“I didn’t mean to offend.” He offered with his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Tell me what it’s like then.”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I’m just mad about stuff at school.”

“Ah, you’re a student, then?”

“PhD candidate, but technically, yes.” You offered, downing the rest of the negroni.

“Very neat. What’s your focus?” He asked again as you began sipping on your pint, trying not to grimace at the change in drink. You're sure you failed.

“Music.”

“Hm, I didn’t know one could get a PhD in music.” He queried.

“Music theory, but yeah.” You offered, moving your drink back and forth between your hands.

“And that brought you here? To England? Why not stay in Canada – if that’s where you’re from, pardon my assumption.” He quickly apologized.

You smirked at his correct assumption – thankful that you didn’t come off ‘too American’ today.

“She goes wherever the wind takes her.”

Your statement was met with silence, so you turned to see the man had frozen in his movements and stared at you incredulously.

“Are-are you quoting Disney movies to me?”

“So, you did get the reference.”

“I did, I just fail to see how Pocahontas relates to a PhD program in England on music theory.” He mutters, looking up at you from the rim of his drink.

“I finished my Masters, then the wind changed.” You offered with a shrug, “It brought me here.”

He seemed to study you for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that you weren't going to elaborate further. “And what does this Gabriel fellow have to do with the winds of musical theory?”

You snorted indelicately. “Nothing. He just, I don’t know, it sounds stupid now that I try to say it out loud.”

“None of that, now.” The man said gently with the same smirk on his face, “a smart girl like you doesn’t strike me as the type to overreact to male foolishness.”

He seemed honestly interested in your answer, at least, the most interested anyone has ever seemed in your ramblings about your toe headed fellow PhD’er. You tried facetime’ing your friends from home about him many-a-times before, and they listen but they don't get it. And your schedules don’t align and with the time-difference one of you is always either just waking up or going to bed. But this random, handsome guy in your bar making fun of your drinks has done nothing but listen so far and you really wanted to get it off your chest.

So, you did.

You told him how your morning started terribly as you ripped a hole in your stockings and only noticed once you got to campus and you usually don’t dress this formally to campus, but you were guest lecturing for Minerva and you know professors didn’t technically have a dress code, but she always looked well put together so, dammit, so were you. You explained that your mother always was the superstitious type and had you carry an emergency pair on you at all times, so you were thankfully able to change, but only after you spilled coffee on your blazer and had to shrug that off for the day and the lecture halls are ridiculously cold always; you know these stone buildings were built before electricity but surely with the great minds this school has churned out, they could find a way to keep the warm air in and cold drafts out?

And if all that hadn’t been bad enough, the other PhD candidate working under McGonagall is this absolute bell-end that you're almost positive has plagiarized half of his written work because everything he spews is absolute nonsense. He’s rude, and condescending, and spoke over you throughout all of your lectures to wax poetic about different Opera’s he’s performed in across the world - that you swear to God you will fact-check one of these days - that had absolutely nothing to do with the course content. And then, and then, he had the audacity to suggest you were only here because the school was required to accept a minimum number of foreign students and since you were, quote, just a woman, you also checked off their minority requirements too.

“People don’t get accepted here because of their nationality or their gender or their status as a minority. They’re supposed to get here because they’re good.” You muttered, finishing your pint you hadn’t realized you had guzzled during your rant

“And how’d Gavin get in, then?” He asked. You choked on the last of your beer.

“Fucked if I know.” You sighed.

A few more pints were placed in front of you as you continued to rant about the ins and outs of being a scholar in the world of music [for Christ’s sake, what was I thinking? I’ll never work a day in my life.] The man interrupting only to say that switching back to liquor would be a choice you would regret in the morning, and who were you to argue?

And he listened. He scoffed at some parts when you quoted Gilderoy suggesting something ridiculously altruistic that he’d done for the less fortunate while being nothing but condescending, he sprinkled in a few you’re kidding me’s, and even asked you to repeat something he couldn’t fathom the first time.

“See? I knew it. A smart girl like you wouldn’t overreact like that. Sounds like you’re perfectly justified in your ire.” He said.

You hummed as you finished your last pint. You felt thoroughly warm and heavy which was your intention of coming to the pub in the first place. You looked over to notice that the man – whose name you still hadn’t got – was still holding the same drink he had when you first arrived.

“Who are you here waiting for, then?” You asked him.

He looked confused for a moment. “How do you know I wasn’t just in desperate need of a drink myself?”

You nodded toward his still half-full cup in his hand. “Because you really haven’t been drinking.”

He narrowed his eyes and smirked at you. “Observant, aren’t you? Clever girl.” You rolled your eyes at the compliment.

“I was supposed to meet a business associate, actually.” He offered as he looked behind you towards the bar door. You turned to take in the rest of the bar yourself; it didn’t seem like the sort of place one would meet a business associate. The bar was dimly lit and somewhat claustrophobic; it didn’t offer a lot of privacy to talk business. You liked it because it was small - you’d be able to see everyone who was currently in the building with one sweep of your gaze save those who may be in the washrooms, and you could see out onto the street from your seat at the bar.

“I think it might be safe to say they stood you up.” You offered with a smirk as you turned to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“I think you might be right.” He offered, looking you up and down.

You couldn’t help but admit he was quite attractive – and not just in his honey-blond curls and mischievous smirk and long limbs way, but he seemed clever, smart, and clearly he was a good listener. You sort of hoped he’d offer you his name, maybe even his number. You wouldn’t mind waiting around for a business associate of his with him again sometime.

You had no such luck.

He began to stand with an expression that bordered regret crossing his face.

“It appears I must be off.” He offered with a sad smirk as he placed some bills down on the table. You weren't quite familiar with the bills in the UK yet, but it seemed like an awful lot of money for the one drink he had at the bar that was still unfinished. You took notice of said drink as you came to this conclusion and got a weird feeling in your gut as he took the drink by the rim and brought it to his lips.

“Wait!” You said as you grabbed his arm. He tensed immediately and you pulled your hand away as if it burned. “I’m sorry. Just, is that the same drink you had when I first arrived?”

He looked from the drink back to me with furrowed brows. “Yes, why?”

You pointed to the drink he still held in his hand. “It’s old.”

He smirked. “Are you a drink snob, miss orders-two-incompatable-drinks-together-and-drinks-them-at-the-same-time?” You rolled your eyes and snatched the drink out of his hand as he brought it to his lips once again, which earned you an indignant ‘oi!’

“No, you berk, what I mean is, this drink is old. It’s warm to the touch, the ice has all melted and it should be as flat as a board but it’s bubbling, like, a lot.” You said as you held it in front of his eyes. He watched you for a few moments before you continued.

“It looks like someone put something in it.”

His gaze shot back to his drink where, sure enough, his should-be-flat diet coke was fizzing wildly as it began to turn a slightly murky shade.

You watched as he gently plucked the drink from your hand and casually put it back down on the bar and shrugged on his jacket.

“It appears you’re right.” He said in monotone. “Looks like we both ought to take our leave, hm?”

You nodded and followed suit; replacing your jacket and scarf you had ripped off unceremoniously as you had entered and headed for the door. The alcohol made you wobble for but a moment, but you were quickly righted by a gentle hand pressed to your lower back. Mortified, you put your best foot forward and marched out the door, hoping your embarrassment wasn't to evident in your cheeks.

You had to admit, you were beginning to panic. Why were you trusting this man? You had spent the last – you checked your watch – nearly two hours talking to this man whose name you still don’t know completely unaware of what was happening around you, and it turned out that there was someone here drugging drinks.

What if it’s him? An unhelpful part of your brain supplied. Why would he spike his own drink and then almost drink it? You argued back.

“You should be more careful.” You offered in what you had hoped to be a playful manner, but it came out strained. “Do you know of any reason why someone may want to spike your drink?”

He seemed to consider your question as you both walked somewhat briskly down the busy street to the subway station.

“No reason that would be suitable to share in the presence of a lady, I’m afraid.” He offered with a wink, leaning down slightly with his hands in his pocket. This answer didn’t make you feel any better.

“Any particular reason why you’re familiar with the signs of a spiked drink?” He offered back.

“I have a feeling most girls would be able to answer that.”

“Hm, perhaps. But I do not believe all would be as quick to catch it as you were.”

You didn’t answer him; you decided you had shared more than enough with this stranger tonight, and you were officially feeling all sorts of uncomfortable with the situation. You were mostly uncomfortable with how not uncomfortable you felt. It felt easy, walking with this stranger, as if you’ve been walking down dreary streets of London together for ages and this was just another Tuesday.

He stopped suddenly and flagged a taxi. You scowled at how quickly a cab stopped for him and his long as arms.

“Here, it’s too muggy for such a lady to brave the underground.” He offered as he opened the door. You began to protest, you had a tube pass through school for a reason, but his hand was on your lower back again as he gently led you into the car and closed the door before sticking his head in the window of the front passenger seat and tossing a handful of bills at the driver.

“Anywhere she wants to go.” He said, stepping back to the middle of the sidewalk and waving you off.

Between the alcohol, your nerves and being disarmed by the attractiveness of this man, you simply spouted the address of your flat to the driver and turned your face forward. The whole evening seemed otherworldly – like you were missing a big chunk of information of what happened tonight, even though you could account for every minute of it.

Your suspicions would have been proven correct if you had turned around to see your mystery man again, who was now accompanied by two other similarly dressed men - one with an unruly mop of brown curls and a shorter man with long black hair tied back haphazardly - who began chasing a fourth man in earnest down the street in the opposite direction.

Continue to part two here.

[unreliablesnake]

Scenes from a relationship: the fight (John Price x reader)

Note: Just a drabble.

"Do you have any idea how much shit I got from my family for taking you to that wedding as my plus one?" you yelled at Price angrily, even pointing a finger at him.

He was taken aback, not expecting to hear this since he had pleasant conversations with your parents and friends after you introduced him to them. They were all snobs, he knew that, but were they really that bad?

Long seconds passed while he waited for you to breathe in and out a few times to calm your nerves. Then, once he saw you feeling a little better, he said, "Why?"

"Why? Because we weren't dating, they never even heard of you, you're not from a wealthy family, don't have a typical white-collar job, and you're not the guy my parents want me to be with," you replied with brutal honesty.

Price let out a sigh and nodded. "Okay, I get it. I'll leave you alone because I'm not good enough for your family, so I'm surely not good enough for you either."

"No, you don't get it apparently," you told him with a desperate laugh. "You were on mission after mission ever since, we barely kept in touch, you never said anything that even remotely suggested you wanted more from me despite what had happened between us after the wedding."

What happened after the wedding. Price remembered it as clearly as if it happened yesterday. He often thought about it, he often rewatched the short video he recorded while you were riding out an orgasm on top of him, wondering if you wanted more than just a one night stand.

But he knew your background, he knew you also had your snobbish moments sometimes, and his brain told him you just wanted to have some fun with him after a few drinks. You had been friends before, nothing more. Nothing pointed in the direction of an actual relationship.

Now that you stood in front of him, so angry and desperate, he wondered what the truth was. He said he didn't see any signs of you wanting a relationship, you thought the same, so maybe you were both missing the signs completely. Maybe it was that easy, it was nothing more but miscommunication.

"Do you want more?" he asked quietly.

Despite being on the verge of crying, you forced a smile on your face before nodding. "Do you?"

He took a hesitant step forward, moving very slowly as he reached out to take your hand. "I've been thinking about it ever since that night. I want you. All of you."

You jumped into his arms, a move so sudden that it took him by surprise and he almost lost his balance. But he got you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly against his body, enjoying the warmth that radiated from you.

He had fantasized about this many times; to have you like this again, to be able to smell your shampoo, and to feel your soft skin under his fingertips. That one video wasn't enough, he needed new memories his mind could replay over and over again.

But then his brain started to work and he thought about something important. "What about your family?" Price asked as he leaned back to look you in the eye.

"I don't care," you replied with a sweet smile. "You're the one I want, if they don't like you, it's not my problem."

"They might disown you."

"They'll block my credit card and stop inviting me to fancy family events for a while. Big deal."

Leaning his forehead against yours, Price couldn't help but smile. If you were willing to accept your family's punishment, then you must have really liked him. It made him feel better about this already, even making him forget what you had started to fight about tonight in the first place.

But then you said something that reminded him of the beginning. "Don't you dare and ignore me again. And I promise I won't ignore you either."

[imkittyjustkitty]

② are we dancing after death?

🔱 — i'd meet the sea ༄ ⠀finnick odair x gn!tribute!reader ⚔️ 🔖) [one] CHAPTER TWO [three] [four] [five] [six] [seven] [eight]

chapter synopsis; The Quarter Quell nears. warnings; blood & veins mentioned once or twice, implied/mentioned prostitution (doesn't happen to reader), reader imagines strangling someone, like one swear word A/N; paragraphs in italics are flashbacks, i got a bit excited about mentioning other canonical district 10 victors (plus an oc who may or may not show up later 👀), i'm also not too sure how mentors are chosen for the games each year? also i just want to say thank you so much for the support on the first chapter, it makes me so happy to know people are enjoying this series as much as i am!!

It's warm, as it always is in District 10. It may be winter and the temperature is noticeably colder, but you still find that walking around outside with a warm coat on does more discomfort for you than if you were to walk around in the vaguely-cold weather without it.

It's been almost seven years since you'd entered the arena and emerged from the other side a victor. Since then your life in 10 has been undeniably empty, a lonely existence that seems to only serve as a reminder that tiptoes dangerously on the border of a punishment.

You've even found yourself looking forward to the games, if only for the possibility of being chosen as a mentor that year and being able to see.. a certain someone.

You'd met Finnick a couple years ago, when some very enthusiastic 'fans' of yours had practically begged some rich public figure in the Capitol to invite you to a party they were holding. They'd said it was an invite you were free to decline (Though it would 'break their hearts' if you did), but when a group of peacekeepers showed up at your doorstep the morning you were expected to take a train to the Capitol, it was made very apparent you had no choice but to play along with the rich snobs who had demanded your attendance.

You couldn't bring yourself to care too much, very well aware that you were not special in any regard in this situation, victors don't get a day of rest if even one Capitol citizen decides they want you around. You supposed you could even go as far as to say you were lucky, considering they didn't ask for anything other than your attendance.

The Capitol is suffocating, though that should be no surprise. The lights are bright and music beats out of speakers like thick blood pumping through heavy veins.

Your surroundings pound against your walls, a heavy throbbing in your head as you try to seclude yourself to a corner of the giant roof-top party. Your outfit — a 'gift' from a particularly enthusiastic designer — is as ugly as it gets, a green shade that resembles animal faeces more than the it does the tree leaves in 7 that the designer was undoubtedly trying to replicate. It sticks like honey, clinging to every inch of your skin that it covers, almost like a portable prison cell as you try and fail to even lift your arm above your waist.

You calm your frustration by imagining a scenario in which you can rip this fabric prison right off your body and strangle the woman who practically forced you into it.

You'd never do it, but — as some bright red drink that you haven't taken a single sip of sits in your hand heavy like a a threat begging to be heeded, and the world around you is completely out of control full of people who view you as less of a human and more of an accessory, — it doesn't hurt to daydream a little.

You're aware of your resting facial expressions usually resembling that of someone planning a murder — which to be fair is rather accurate right now — so as you notice a shadow in the vague form of a person approaching you, you prepare yourself for the same overused ice-breakers that tipsy Capitol citizens seem to love so much.

What catches you off guard, is the when the figure simply rests against the same wall you're leaning on beside you, not yet saying a word. You blink quickly, trying to clear the fog in your eyes to see who stands beside you.

You think that maybe this stranger finds the silence comforting, maybe they're just trying to get away from the loudness and crowdedness of the party like you. But for you, the silence is anything but comforting, the fact this person has not said a word to explain why they're now standing with you, and you can't even make out who they are in the dim lighting and fog that's building up behind your eyes all night, only scares you.

It's a whisper straight into the wind — when the stranger finally talks — almost like a test to see if you care enough to listen. You do.

He says your first and last name quietly, not like a greeting but rather just a statement void of any goal.

And then he introduces himself, Finnick Odair. You can tell he's known since the moment his eyes landed on you that you're not a Capitol citizen, he says he doesn't make a point to remember the names of every victor that gets tossed aside and forgotten by the Capitol, but he recognises you.

You recognise him too, by name. He had been someone your mother had compared you to late one night, a boy who had won the games so young, just like you were meant to.

But now he wasn't a young boy you'd resented for less than a moment after being basically told he was everything you weren't. In fact, he was better company than anyone you'd met in your whole life.

You carefully make your way through District 10, the wide fields and twisting footpaths granting you a world where for a moment you can pretend you're the only one here, that beyond blades of grass and unstable barns sits only empty land and freedom.

And then your feet hit the pavement of the Victor's village, your silent bubble immediately broken as the sounds of life and activity echo through the rows of houses.

You can hear the sounds of footsteps hitting the ground, and slight conversation mixes with the wind as you watch your neighbours living their lives around you.

The house closest to your left is dusty and not well-kept — as it always has been — the only sign of life being the open curtains, which slightly reveal an old woman by the name of Tule standing with her hands leaning against a kitchen bench, and a slightly taller old man — Greir — sitting on a stiff armchair in front of a television, both undoubtedly preparing for what everyone else is.

To your right, is the Yule household. The houses in the Victor's Village are big, spacious in a way that makes you feel lonely, but in a way that has served yet another victor; Phox — and her family — very well. You can hear through the slightly opened windows that most of them must be gathered in the living room too.

Neighbouring Phox's home, is Karter Breer's, District 10's most recent victor. They won 3 years ago, a year which you couldn't remember anything about other than who won. You know very little about Karter — you've slowly learnt little things here and there about your other fellow victors purely from living near them for so long, and Karter's only lived here for a shorter time than you — but you expect that once their extents of self-isolation lessen and they leave the house more, you'll know just as much about them as you do about every member of Phox's family.

As you keep walking — your shoes hitting the uneven concrete rather ungracefully — you pass an empty house or two, Tule's home, and even the home of Alto; possibly the only other inhabitant of this row of houses who can compete against Karter for loneliest Victor.

You pass more houses — at least four — until you reach yours. It sits right in the corner of the tall fences that surrounds the community here, purposefully as far away from the entrance gate and all your neighbours' houses.

You unlock the front door and try not to wince as it creaks loudly. The inside of your house is undeniably yours. As much as you isolate yourself, you're still human, and you've still slowly made this place your own... and possibly in the process made it Finnick's too.

One of the details that makes it very clear that this house — while you may still be the only one who lives in it — is not yours alone, is the ribbons.

They're tied to chair legs and door handles, each one taking you back to all the moments in which Finnick had tied the different colours around your hair, or wrapped around your wrist like a homemade bracelet, or even daintily tied around your finger when you weren't looking.

They admittedly look a bit tacky, they make your house look almost unkempt to anyone else. But to you, they make this hollow shell of a building more of a home, or at least a reminder of a home you do have, even if it may not be right here.

"Someone is staring."

You don't want to say it any more than he wants to hear it, but the Capitol woman that can't be any more than a few years older than you and Finnick hasn't stopped watching the two of you since she's noticed you.

The ghost of his hand moves away from yours just slightly, an inaudible sigh leaving his lips.

"I should leave..” He whispers to you, making no move to actually walk away.

He’s right, there’s people everywhere, you may not be the only Victors in attendance — although you’re definitely the only ones who look like one of you is about to get down on their knees and ask for the other’s hand in marriage — but that doesn’t mean there's no eyes on you.

You’ve known this all night — known that you’re constantly under surveillance here — but you and Finnick haven’t seen each other in months, haven't been able to speak let alone hold one another. You can’t decide whether you regret risking it all like this or not, him just being close to you feeling like a good enough reason to risk it all.

You don’t answer him, you don't usually do, in a world where you could say so much but have so little time to do so, it grows overwhelming. So your solution is simply say nothing.

Finnick knows this, and loves you for it — not despite — but he also knows that though while you may not say it, you want him to stay with you in this moment where you'll pretend that all is well, even though you both know you shouldn't.

There is a whisper, one purposefully intended to only be audible to you.

"See you later."

Simple. To the point. No room for argument. But you can see, for the fraction of a moment that Finnick's eyes stay on yours and he smiles ever so slightly, there is something more left unsaid.

There's an 'i love you' within that phrase which holds such certainty that you can't help but believe he means it. There's a 'stay safe' almost as a light joke but also meant with full seriousness. And then, for only split second now lost to time, there's a flicker of a sorrowful reality, of something that tells you you both know that later could very well be years.

Later could be later tonight, it could be a moment where you run into each other leaving the party, where you get a chance to pretend no one needs to say goodbye again. Later could be within months, where you could both be chosen as mentors for your districts. Later could be within weeks, one of you could just drop dead at any moment, the other would have to beg and plead to even be allowed into the district where the funeral would be held.

Yet for a moment, it's like Finnick has walked back over to hold your hands in his again, as you mindlessly fidget and simply stare at nothing, your movements freeze when you feel something new around your skin.

And there, wrapped around your pointer finger, is a small yellow ribbon tied in a bow, no doubt the same ribbon that was wrapped around the glass Finnick had been holding not long before.

You may be reading into it too much — as you fiddle with the ribbon, refusing to untie it — but it feels like a promise. That while yes, later will come one way or another no matter how much you try to stop it, but maybe — for now — there is comfort in that.

You can't help but be excited for whatever parties that will be thrown in the coming days, if just to see him as soon as possible.

Your thoughts are only of the possibility of seeing Finnick soon as you walk through the echoing halls of your house, pulling your jacket off tiredly and laying it on the first flat surface you see, then moving to pull your slowly-falling-apart shoes off from your sore feet.

The mundanity of the ritual brings a sort of comfort, your house and dull clothes an unchanging factor in your life (No matter how much several parts of your outfits have been slowly unravelling from unkind weather and getting caught on fences).

For a moment you just stand in the foyer, not too far from the front door. Thoughts don't really cross through your mind as you stand there dully, your gaze simply zoning out where you stand.

A buzz and sudden music coming from your living room pushes you out of this state, your steps calm and un-rushed as you move through your house to eventually find your television showing you the beginnings of a Capitol broadcast.

You sit down on the couch in front of it, slightly leaning forward as to not miss what will soon be said.

Quarter Quells are scary, they're unpredictable, but something deep inside you says it will all be okay, because soon you will see Finnick again at whatever trashy party you're both invited to, and you won't have to give less of a shit about the games.

series taglist: @universal-s1ut @stitch-lele @starrgirl4444 @more-multifandom-of-madness @libbi5001 @lem0ns77 @luvficz @lilmaymayy @magical-spit let me know if you want to be added or removed!

if your @ is bold that means i wasn't able to tag you for some reason, maybe check your settings

[feraltuxedo]

Served Cold

Throwback to that time I wrote a twisty political scandal fic disguised as a coffeeshop AU. I'm still quite pleased with this one, it was very fun to write the twists and turns, with suave coffee snob Crowley and thirsty, thirsty Aziraphale. If you like a bit of a mystery, a bit of a plot twist, and a good deal of capital-c Clues, you'll enjoy this.

Served Cold by FeralTuxedo M, 14205 words Summary: On a quiet Wednesday morning, a man with flaming red hair and a face tattoo saunters into a London café. But it appears that he’s there for rather more than just espresso.

Snippet:

This was exactly the type of customer Divinitea wanted to attract, Aziraphale thought. Modern, fashionable, rich. Too casually dressed to be a banker. No, this was someone with an undefinable job that was mostly done at posh brunch places with free wi-fi. He probably had the word entrepreneur on his business card.

He was clearly a bellend. But a very attractive one. Shame Anathema wasn’t here to admire him. Aziraphale would have to do that all by himself.

He turned to the stainless steel behemoth that was the coffee-maker, an expensive import from Italy which Anathema insisted would keep the customers coming back, and began the complicated series of steps that resulted in a steaming stream of thick black coffee pouring into a tiny and rather pretty duck-egg-blue cup.

Aziraphale served it to the stranger, placing the cup on an equally tiny saucer. The man had taken his sunglasses off by now and was watching him with curious brown eyes.

‘Is this place new? I swear it wasn’t here last year.’

‘It wasn’t,’ Aziraphale said. ‘We opened a few months ago.’

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, fuelled by two bottles of Chardonnay and a dangerously outraged Anathema. Gabriel, of course, had been the cause of her outrage. And Aziraphale, who’d very much been drinking to forget, had instead ended up agreeing to her harebrained idea.

But the mysterious customer didn’t need to know all that.

He took a sip of his espresso and pulled a face. Aziraphale tutted.

‘Coffee not to your liking?’

‘Well…’ The man scrunched up his nose and tipped his head from side to side. ‘Since you asked. It’s a little over in the roast.’

Aziraphale just about stopped himself from muttering You’re a little over in the roast and instead focused intently on wiping the already spotless bar top.

‘But then,’ the man continued, ‘you’re not called Divini-coffee, are you? I bet your tea is top notch.’

Despite himself, Aziraphale laughed.

‘Divini-coffee?’

‘Did the pun come first or the menu?’

‘If you must know, I wasn’t keen on serving coffee in the first place. There’s a perfectly serviceable Costa just up the road, you see, and even a little independent place for those with a more discerning palate and a bigger budget—’

‘What, so you’d rather have people go to the competition for a hot drink? That’s one way to sabotage your own business.’

‘— then my partner made the same observation, and here we are with apparently subpar espresso that’s a little over in the roast.’

‘Your partner?’

‘Junior partner,’ Aziraphale corrected. ‘She owns 30% of the business.’

‘But 100% of the business sense, by the sound of it.’

‘She’s also the one who picks and orders the coffee beans, so you better take it up with her.’

The man shielded his eyes with the side of his palm and turned his head left and right, like a ship’s captain on the lookout for land.

‘Unless your partner is invisible, I don’t seem to have an option but to take it up with you.’

‘Fine.’ Aziraphale sighed. ‘Do you want a refund?’

He hoped not. They were already in the red for this month. On the other hand, Anathema was always very quick to offer refunds, going on the rather flawed assumption that a happy customer was, somehow, preferable to actual money in the till.

‘No need for such extreme measures,’ the man said with a wink, ‘It’s leagues better than Costa at any rate. Though I will take a few minutes of your company as compensation.’

God damn, he was charming. Aziraphale detested him for it, just a little. But then, because he was Aziraphale Fell and his only two weaknesses were French pastries and arrogant men, he did sit down with him. On the edge of the chair, of course, with his back straight and one eye on the door, just to make it absolutely clear that he was at work, and not usually in the habit of lounging about with customers.

The man grinned at him, clearly relishing the awkwardness. Aziraphale stared right back, eyebrows raised. He was not going to let this stranger fluster him.

‘You could at least tell me your name, if you insist on this—’

He flapped his hands between them to make a point.

‘Crowley,’ the man said, after a drawn-out pause.

He savoured the word like a fine wine, and Aziraphale thought it suited him perfectly.

‘Crowley,’ he repeated. ‘You go by your surname?’

‘Yup. I like it that way. Maybe you should try it, too, er… Aziraphale.’

Crowley’s eyes dropped down, once again, to Aziraphale’s name badge, and lingered there much longer than necessary.

‘Oh no, I shouldn’t think so,’ Aziraphale said lightly. ‘Anyway. Do you wish to converse at all, or are you perfectly happy just to stare?’

‘Was just admiring your apron, that’s all.’

‘Thank you. My partner hates it.’

‘I take it she’s not a fan of tartan?’

‘She says it doesn’t suit her.’

‘Suits you, anyway.’

Aziraphale mumbled another thank you. He was starting to get a little hot under the collar. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. He was fairly certain he’d seen this exact scenario play out on Pornhub. Minus the tartan apron, of course.

And really… it had been a quiet morning so far. Perhaps he could lock up the front door and drag Crowley to the back room. Have him rip the apron over his head and push him against the fridge and be done with him before Anathema arrived for her shift at lunch time.

Aziraphale sighed an inward sigh and, of course, did nothing of the sort. Good lord, he really needed to get laid. But ideally not at work. He had standards, after all. Unfortunately, Crowley appeared to meet all of them.

‘What do you want to talk about, then?’ he asked, trying hard to drag his thoughts out of the gutter.

‘Anything, really. The weather? Your favourite band? The embarrassment that is our current prime minister? Bet you’ve got some interesting thoughts to share.’

Aziraphale huffed. It was clumsy flirting, certainly more clumsy than he would have expected from a man who wore his trousers quite so tight.

[stargazing-imagines]

A&A rewrite // 01x05 // bloggers and butterflies

Description : you and the gang run into a hater of Austin so you try to shut her down, meanwhile you figure out your feelings for Austin

Parings : mentions of reader liking Austin

Warnings : mentions of toxic friendships, mild bullying towards the reader and the gang , the use of the word snobs , if there’s anything else that should be added let me know ASAP!

It was a sunny day in Miami and Ally was working the counter at sonic boom, you on the other hand, was on the computer as she was watching something. You looked at ally before looking back at the computer.

"Umm... ally we have a problem..." said Y/N as she turned the computer around "apparently Austin showed me a website call Miami h8ter girl and she said some pretty nasty stuff and things about Austin,"

"Wait...I heard of h8ter girl," said Ally "Austin was just talking about her the other day,"

"Yeah but this one isn't pretty," you said as you clicked the space bar of your computer to play the video.

 A clip of Austin in the music store late at night eating ice cream, was on that was until it dropped it the next thing he did was make a pant sundae

In disgust you closed the laptop "I just lost my appetite," said Y/N as she push the Laptop away

"I wonder how Austin is feeling about this?" asked Ally "This has got to be hard on his uprising career," said ally, you nodded in response. 

"Guess who's got a job at Pirate Frank Fish Fry," said Trish as she walked into the Store in her pirate costume, after Trish said that, Austin walked in through the door

"well can we worry about your job later?" asked Austin "She posted another embarrassing video of me,"

"Was it the Pants-Sundae? because I'm clearly grossed out," said Y/N before flinching with disgust

"Frankly... I don't think she's that bad, She posts about everything embarrassing about a celebrity," said Trish

"well why don't we all go down to the mall and maybe you can do some nice gestures," Said Ally

"Ooh I can't Savannah is in town," said Y/N "Is it ok if i take a rain check?"

"What's up with you and Savannah?" asked Ally "I mean I thought you two wouldn't be friends anymore after what she did to you,"

"Ally she may be a Blonde Chick who does nothing else but shop she's not that bad, You just got to get to know her," said Melody "Not every blonde chick is bad, I mean look at austin.” 

"Hey N/N ready to go?" asked Savannah as she walked in through the door "There's this great sale at the beach mall and i so don't want to miss it,"

"I’ll be down there shortly, oh but first Savannah, Meet my Friends," said Y/N "You already met my sister ally, but you haven't met Trish, Dez, and Austin,"

"Wait your friends with Austin Moon?" asked Savannah "Just wait till Angelica Hears about this,"

"yeah lets keep it on the down low," said Y/N as she pushed Brooke out the door "Bye guys, Good Luck Austin,"

________

"Whats the deal with you and Austin?" asked Savannah as she was skimming through the racks at the Clothing Cart in the middle of the Mall, you who fiddled with the straw in your smoothie sighed.

"I don't know, I like him but i feel like he would be better off with Ally because they have so much in common," said Melody "I'm just a girl who has a dream of being a actress and we all know that may never come true,"

"you have got to stop selling yourself short, I mean I haven't seen you act in anything but your chance will come," said Savannah as she kept her eyes on the clothes 

"Maybe your right,"

"So does this mean Damien is Out of the picture?" Smirked Savannah as she sipped on her drink, it was obvious that she liked Damien 

"We're just friends and that's all we'll ever be,"  said Melody as she fiddled with her straw but this time stirring up her smoothie

"isn't that your friend over there helping that kid out of the fountain?" asked Brooke as she pointed to where ally and Austin were standing before crossing her arms

"Yeah apparently Austin has a hater," you laughed “and he’s so freaked out about it.”

"You don't say?" asked Brooke "Who's this hater thats out to get him?"

"Miami H8ter Girl," said Melody "Have you heard about her?"

"Yeah but be careful i had this friend back in grade school who is famous now and apparently she said some nasty stuff about her," said Brooke "the drama and the name calling was so bad The girl had to become homeschooled after Freshman Year,"

"Wow she's that bad?" asked Melody

"Yep," said Brooke as she looked at her cell phone which dinged "Oh saved by the bell... my plane leaves in an hour will you be fine walking to sonic boom by yourself?"

"Yeah I'll just walk with Austin and Ally back to the music store,"

"Great see you soon Bestie," said Brooke as she left before waving

_________

"Austin moon dunks kid in the fountain," said Austin as he stood up "Now that sounds really bad,"

"Yeah but on the bright side you didn't actually drown Nelson," said Y/N "Me and Savannah saw the whole thing,"

"Hooray That makes everything so much better," said Ally sarcastically before closing the laptop before rolling her eyes

"What's your problem with Savannah?" asked Y/N "It's not like she did something to you,"

"She uses you and Manipulates you... She's bad news N/N why can't you understand that,"

"I don't know ally i guess it's because I rather have friends who are less famous sometimes," said Y/N "If you would actually fly out to California with me on the daily Basis you wouldn't be judging them so hard,"

"Y/N, I want to get to know them but i'm telling you something is going on with that girl and I just don't want to see you getting hurt,"

"Ally's right, I mean She did ask if you and Damien are still dating," Said Austin "and I know their your friends but I've heard about a lot of people from Beverly Hills are snobs especially rich ones,” nodded austin, meanwhile you glared at him.

"Guys you don't know them like I do," said Y/N as she stormed out of the practice room as she slammed the door, Dez and Trish walked in

"What's wrong with her?" Asked Trish as she pointed to you who just stormed out the door

"Me criticizing her friends again," said Ally

"Why are you so jealous of Y/N’s other friends?" Asked Austin

"Yeah I mean we are your friends," said Dez

"You guys i’m not jealous." said Ally "it’s just, she’s been used before by Savannah and when she has I'm always the one that has to put her back together,"

--Flashback--

"I can't believe grandma and Grandpa live in Beverly Hills, it's surreal." said 13 year old you as you jumped up for joy.

"I know how can they afford to live here? I heard a flat here costs at least 3,000 dollars,"

"Hey I love your shirt," said a girl

"Thanks I like yours," said Ally as she pointed to the girl

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to her," said the girl "I'm Savannah and this is Angelica,"

"Hi! It's nice to meet you your really pretty," said Angelica

"Hi well I'm Melody and this is my sister ally," you smiled as you pointed to ally who waved back

"I Can tell we're going to be great friends,"

--End Of Flashback--

"And that's why I don't trust Savannah," said ally as 

"Yeah but the reason you can't trust her is because she hates you,"

"Dez not now," said Trish as she placed a hand on Dez's shoulder "anyway we need to figure out a plan to get Hater girl back,"

_______

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Asked Y/N as you crossed your arms, clearly not wanting to be there

"Shh! You'll ruin the process," Said Dez

"Dez you do realize that we don't need to go undercover for this right?" asked Trish

"oh... that explains the weird looks i got trying to mail Austin's embarrassing Baby Photos to Hater Girl,"

"You did what!?" asked Austin

"Yeah she wanted some of your baby pictures, I couldn't say no!"

You Rolled your eyes before looking out the window, When she did she saw a Person in a fish costume

"Hey guys That fish has been staring at us for five minutes now," pointed Y/N

As melody said that The fish ran away, you stormed out of the fish shop. when you did you saw a fishing pole near by. You threw the fishing pole string to catch the person, when the fishing line caught onto the costume. You yanked the fishing pole.

"Now lets unmask the real Hater Girl," said ally as she took the fish head off the person's head and when she did you and Ally Gasps

“Tilly?” 

__________

It was a Friday night and you was with Ally and Trish as they were getting ready for a ‘performance’ that Tilly made

"Hey everyone I'm so glad you could come out, Today we have three songs that will be shared," said tilly "But two of them will be awful so feel free to boo them,"

Ally and you looked at each other before looking back at the stage

"First off we have Y/N Dawson singing the Caterpillar Song,"

Tilly glared at you, you did the same thing, but this time you tripped her making her fall off the first step

"hey everyone... Uh i don't normally sing but here's nothing i guess,"

You started Singing but in the middle of it you stopped

"What am i kidding, Here's the real talent, Ally Dawson with the butterfly song,"

everyone clapped before ally yanked you Down

"What are you doing?'

"Showing everyone how talented my sister is," Said Y/N through gritted teeth as she smiled  "Now go!"

________

"even though you didn't perform the song I'm glad we served justice to tilly," said Y/N as she placed an arm around Ally "I'm really lucky to have you as my sister,"

"Thanks N/N that means a lot and sorry I judged Savannah,"

"Its fine," said Y/N as you waved it off

"And Austin I know how much you wanted my dolphin, so I'm letting you have him,"

"really?" asked Austin as he jerked the Dolphin out of Ally hand as he gave it a hug

"Aww look a baby," said Melody

Austin and ally Gushed before Something happened

"GOO!"

"AHH!"

---

Austin and Ally Rewrite Masterlist

[goddesspharo]

wip title meme: baseball

[ask me about my WIP based on titles!]

Not about baseball! It's the Top Gun Maverick mob!AU I keep saying I'm NOT going to write. I was ready to let it go and then I had an idea the other day while working on something else and realized I knew exactly how to tie the whole thing together in a way that wasn't just vibes (it's about VENGEANCE, baby!) and scribbled an organizational chart of The Family on the back of an envelope so here we are. Bradley is the heir apparent! Jake is the fixer! There's a whole "Natasha comes back into the fold five years later" thing! Someone is probably on the lam at some point!

Unfortunately, the document itself is not anything close to a fic or even in chronological order. Right now it's a collection of half-written scenes that have come to me as if during a fever dream because I haven't fully committed - it feels like the whole thing would be long (ugh, why can't I ever write a short one shot?) and I need to finish some of these other WIPs before I embark on another one - but if I don't write some stuff down, I will 100% forget the turns of phrase and/or ideas later. Anyway, here's a snippet:

"The world doesn't stop spinning for anyone, not even Natasha Trace," Jake answers noncommittally before taking a weary sip of the bottom shelf booze in front of him. He makes a face. "Bradley, if you're going to go on a bender, can we please do it somewhere that doesn't serve drinks in plastic cups?" "You're such a snob." "Good thing you can afford for me to be."

[boreal-sea]

I'm watching Twin Peaks for the first time.

Pilot episode spoiler free thoughts: I am hooked. The characters are all really interesting and I want to know more and to watch all of them like ants. I want to put them in a jar and shake it up.

Pilot episode - liveblogging, full of spoilers.

----

Lots of machinery ASMR and nature porn. Not sure what the show's about though.

Who is this sad person making sad eyes at the camera.

Hello fisher guy. Oh, a thing. Oh it's early spring, those tulips aren't up yet. Oh that's a whole body.

Lucy's gonna tell everyone. Oh boy he gets to use the siren!

Andy's got a big heart huh. Ope, they know her.

Hi lady (mom?), Laura's not coming down.

That kitchen is red.

Does David Lynch have a foot fetish?

Gross, don't spit dude.

"We're businessy businessmen doing business"

Is this Mr. Palmer? Yup. Also, there's the sheriff. Sarah knows what's up. Glad to see he cares about his kid tho. So often the businessy businessmen don't care about their kids.

Oh, I know this music! Now I know where it's from.

Ow, my ears.

Ah, Bobby. Here you are. You're a greaser huh? Ah, smoking and drinking, it's what Teens Do.

Idk if the acting is good or bad but I do believe Laura's dad's character is genuinely sad.

No really, does David Lynch have a foot fetish?

Bobby I want to hate you but you are very charismatic. Random screaming student. Everyone just seems to instinctively know Laura is dead.

Bobby was driving his third girlfriend home, he wasn't murdering anyone. Hey whoever this guy is, he's actually ensuring Bobby gets his rights, to a degree.

Everyone also seems to have really loved Laura. Like. It's almost creepy how much they all love her.

Oh, it's the music again.

Don't be sad, just get some drugs.

Oh, sad lady owns the mill. Josie Packard. Why is the other woman so mad?

Oh, that doesn't look like a good time, girl. Oh, she escaped.

It's Flattop greaser guy. He was in love with Laura too??

Hello eyepatch lady.

IT'S OUR GUY, RIGHT? The detective??? That's some sleazy music, he's gotta be a detective. He's very cheery.

Dale Cooper, FBI.

Huh. Dale, you're a bit of a snob. Also, you're annoying. Am I supposed to like you?

What is in this psych's ears?? Also, creepy, yuck.

Ew, Dale's going really far up there under that nail. Oh shit, a letter. Dale your face disturbs me.

Hey blonde boy, you don't tell Donna what to do. Heh, Ed's alright though.

Yeah, I'd also break the diary open, it's not like she's gonna write in it again. Hm, "J" is not Bobby. Day 26? Cocaine? Lockbox key? Mysteries abound. Also, chocolate bunnies.

I kinda love this cop who can't stop crying. Andy.

I don't think Bobby killed her. Wait, how was she studying at Bobby's house at 9:30 if her mom said she came home at 9? Lol using a calculator to type messages. "She wouldn't do that to me" hmm, do what? See "J"?

Audrey does what Audrey wants. *snort*. Audrey, you're great. Terrible, but I love you anyway.

Ooh, who said that line about the picnic earlier in the episode???

I guessed there'd be a reflection in her eyes.

Oh - it's flatop kid. He's the biker? But is he THE biker? And just cause he was the person behind the camera doesn't mean he killed or hurt them.

Oh, I've seen/heard "Fire walk with me" online before, didn't know it was from Twin Peaks!

Flattop has the other heart piece...

Seems that whole family is a bit... in need of help.

Ronette, who escaped, was a sex worker or something? In a skeezy magazine. Also a photo of trucker guy?

Ok Leo, your acting is kinda bad.

Oooh, Ed's getting it on with diner lady? Don't blame him. But meeting at the Roadhouse at 9:30? That's when flattop is gonna meet whatshername!.

Oooh she was his sister. That's why sawmill lady was so angry.

"Who's the lady with the log?" "We call her the log lady"

Mayor is senile, apparently. Dale, don't scare them all by saying the killer may be among them and then tell them not to start a witch hunt.

~oooh nighttime scary~

Hi, old man. Oh, Donna's relative of some kind. At least her sister(?) is gonna cover for her. Harriet. The bros are here to grab Donna but she's not there hehe. Blondie is Mike, got it. Heh. Harriet, that wasn't much of a cover. But Dad? Grandpa? I wouldn't have told THOSE losers she was missing, I would've said "She doesn't want to see your sorry asses".

Are you really gonna leave Hank? For Ed? Are you? Love this singer though. Ah, so the other bikers? greasers? don't like Mike and Bobby huh?

Oooh Joe's taking her to "James".

I'd turn off your lights if you're tailing, that's just me.

I do like how like, not-glorified this bar fight is. It's kinda lame actually.

So here's James.... oh, it's flattop. Oooh, so Laura WAS into sketchy stuff. And maybe Bobby killed someone? Aw, James. I don't think you killed her either. I might be super wrong, but hey. And it's the music again. It's fine, you can trauma bond and kiss to the music. Eey, Donna, that's a good plan to hide the necklace actually. If he's innocent.

Oh, I like that Dale already believes James didn't do anything.

Bobby that's a hell of a look on your face.

Aw, Donna's dad is a sweetie.

Bobby, you're so fucking weird. But apparently so is Mike, so whatever. Two peas in a pod. Also I don't like you anymore.

Ooh Mill owner lady and the sheriff are together, and the mill sister is planning some murder perhaps?

Uh, what? Was Laura's mom dreaming? Having a vision? Screaming for an unrelated reason?

(end of episode)

[edgygayguy]

HENLO FRIEN. I've gone and rambled a bit on the subject, and now I wanna know what you think:

What kinds of werewolf legends are your favorites? (And if that's boring, what do you want to see in werewolf stories that isn't highlighted enough?)

Expected no less of you bestie 🐀

My favorite werewolf legend is definitely the myth about King Lycaon (ironic considering I don't like werewolves that just turn into wolves) and the fact that saint Christopher sometimes has a dog head. The myth about that one Ukrainian village in which werewolves are at a full on war with witches is also fun. I definitely lean more into what werewolves were and how they evolved over time in culture. The whole "guardians of nature" thing seems to be modern af and quite frankly, it's very boring. I'd rather watch giant tree people commit eco terrorism than woofs running around factories. I could ramble about how they fit right into what the Greeks belived, then the Christians but you probably already know that lmao.

My favorite thing about werewolves is how versatile they are. I like your more "YA novel all mythologies are real" approach, but as I am a literature nerd and snob the thing I value the most in a werewolf is what they bring into the story they're in.

Werewolves as natural impulses being too powerful to control? Werewolves as a Mr. Hyde kind of deal within society? Werewolves as dangerous people in the woods watch-out-little-red-riding-hood sort of thing? I love it all, but if I get something that goes beyond the big three then I'm VERY happy to see it (I'm even writing a short story that, at least to me, seems pretty original, not in general but in terms of werewolf use)

I also LOVE the "drink from a wolf's pawprint under a full moon" way to get cursed. I don't consume any werewolf media nowdays, and all I did consume was movies so I'm kinda out of touch, I really need to get back to it lol.

I think what werewolves lack nowdays is nuance. I feel like everytime I hear some new werewolf thing is going to be released it's the same old stuff being repurposed in a shinier way. Also I hate when American studios just slap "NATIVE AMERICAN MYTHS" as an explanation for lycanthropy (recenlty they did it with Slavic folklore and I was ready to throw hands again).

Another pet peeve of mine is female werewolves. A few years ago I had a lesbian friend who woke me up to the fact that female werewolves are just furries or anime girls, entierly reduced to a male fantasy (big stronk wolf man and tiny petite big boobs wolf woman). Now I'm DEMANDING to be given some werewolf media where the werewolf woman is big and strong, and the only difference could be that she has six tits or sum. If they don't give male werewolves dicks I don't see why you should be able to distinguish between a female werewolf and a male one in most media. Also apparently there was an old Hollywood movie from like the 1920s with a cool female werewolf that was pretty damn feminist for its time but it has burdened down along with a library in a fire??? Don't remember that very well.

Idk if these rambles make any sense (I got the "can't voice all thoughts in a comprehensive manner" syndrome) but just to close it all of: werewolf evolution is cool, silver is cool and versatile, werewolves are fuckable af, werewolf women need to hit the gym and whoever is shitting out horrible takes on my poor woofs needs to stfu (I'm looking at the men who insist the whole "alpha beta omega" thing is real, but that's a whole nother post)

Thank you for the ask bestie and hopefully you get the juices flowing and can write again <3

[satrangee-ray]

The Snack of a Lifetime

Book: Open Heart 3 and beyond.

Pairing(s): Ethan × NB!MC {Dr Inara Hepburn (she/they)}.

Rating: Teen+

Summary: Inara barges into the DT room with some obnoxious snacks to force Ethan into taking a break. But is that all they have in mind, or will their brilliant plan saved for later take him by pleasant surprise?

Category: Fluff, banter, life decisions and celebrations 🎉😁✌.

Trope: Weddings and Proposals.

Warning(s): one or two swear words, mention of a sex act.

Writer's note: By the time this starts, Ethan and MC have already said their 'I love you's, are in a committed relationship, and more or less everyone knows about it. In my original HC for Inara and Ethan they don't get married this early, so this is kind of an AU cause I really wanted to write a proposal fic. Also the whole lawsuit drama didn't happen, cause I said so, and most sane people would agree.

Ethan wasn't used to receiving.

It was apparent in the way he interacted with the world, immediately getting suspicious of anyone who would remotely extend some sort of courtesy towards him. 

He knew if he ever wanted to have something for himself, no one but he would have to take initiative to go get it. And for two-way processes like relationships, he had no belief whatsoever on the legitimacy of such things.

That was until Inara waltzed into his life, and amazed him with the possibility that he could be on the receiving end of good things without having to worry about any strings attached. Be it love, or a blowjob, or "care", as he previously liked to call it– the best things life ever had to offer were simply falling into his lap, and he couldn't find himself complaining.

Inara cared, in the truest sense of the word.

She cared enough to take off his glasses and cover him up in warm blankets, whenever he would fall asleep with an open medical journal in his hands. She cared enough to know just how he liked his coffee, or to school his scotch habits whenever they would get a little out of hand. And presently, she cared enough to let him work overtime, by agreeing to grab lunch with Tobias instead.

Ethan couldn't afford to take breaks. These days, he had to work even in between shifts, to finish editing his second medical book decently before it's approaching release date.

.

.

(One month before Inara's board exams)

.

The diagnostics office sat deserted, except for one doctor. A wooden desk, with papers sprawled all around. Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose, as he kept his glasses aside.

Suddenly the office door swung open, and three figures strolled in. Two practically tumbled, giggling overenthusiastically. The third one was Harper, who calmly walked in holding a tray, and shook her head with an amused expression.

Ethan looked up, and saw Tobias and Inara, each triumphantly holding up all their 10 fingers at him.

"Ring Chips!" Inara squealed, running towards Ethan. "Si baked these last night, and brought them as extra snacks for her fourteen hour shift today, but of course, we managed to hog some. So dig in!"

Ethan cautiously eyed the bright yellow crisps looped through Inara's fingers, and said, "you're not expecting me to eat those atrocities, are you?"

"Did you just call Sienna's baked goods an atrocity? That's wrong on so many levels E, lemme just get her on the phone..."

"NO", Ethan replied on high alert.

"That's what I thought. Cause bold words for someone who struggles even with a pancake."

Tobias and Harper chuckled, struggling in vain to stifle it.

"Fine, give me one here", Ethan said, extending his hand towards Harper's tray which contained the particular baked snacks.

"Nope, that's not the way", Inara stopped him, slapping his hand. "If you're doing this, you gotta do it right."

A loud exhale escaped Ethan. "What now, Rookie?"

"E, you can't just pick one chip and eat it, okay? You gotta slip it through your finger, and try to grab it with your mouth, the childhood nostalgia way. Like this."

Inara brought their hand to their mouth, and swallowed one whole finger, sucking on it until the chip looped through it flew backwards into their mouth. They proceeded to chew on it, staring straight into Ethan's eyes. 

He was so screwed. 

Turning away from Inara's gaze with tremendous effort, he wordlessly picked up a chip loop from the tray and tried to slip it into his finger.

"Too small", Tobias remarked, and handed him another. "Try a bigger one."

This time the ring effortlessly slipped through his finger, sitting perfectly at it's base. Ethan stared at it, perplexed, for a few moments.

"Yes! Now consume it with your mouth", Inara's excited cheers continued.

Harper couldn't hold in a scoff, while the youngest doctor in the room remained blissfully unaware of the implications of their phrase.

Ethan's mouth opened in protest, but he realized it's futility immediately and decided to close it. Scrunching up his entire face, in disbelief that he was actually doing this, he lowered his head, and slowly raised his hand to his face.

When his finger holding the chip was well within his reach, he opened his mouth once again to grab it. But just when he was about to take the bite, Inara acted quickly and slipped the chip out of his finger, causing Ethan to bite into his own skin instead. 

"Aahh, Nars what the hell! Are you nuts?"

The three other doctors in the room unabashedly cracked up now, not bothering to hide their glee in Ethan being tortured like that.

Inara began stroking his beard softly, before leaving a quick kiss on his cheek.

Shades of light pink took over it in response.

"You should have acted faster, honey", Inara said, taking his hands into theirs. Another gentle peck landed on his lips.

"Now I'm already running late, there's this patient I have to check on, gotta yeet. But you better finish the rest of those snacks, along with the real food we brought you for lunch, and for God's sake, please look up from those damn papers for five minutes, and take a freakin' chill pill!" 

The last words were shouted as they rushed out the door.

Ethan and Tobias sighed.

"They're the best thing that has ever happened to you"

"Indeed", Ethan said in earnest. "I'll be very inclined to agree."

.

.

(Four months after Inara's board exams)

.

The gorgeous venue sparkled with chandeliers and boujee people in expensive suits. Small round tables, aesthetic chairs, congratulations in order everywhere. No, it wasn't the medical industry's 'it' couple getting married, it was the 'it' doctor, and the chief of medicine's second book getting launched instead. 

Ethan had walked into the Edenbrook atrium that morning like it was a war zone. His expression still spelt terror, as he uneasily shifted his glance between some of his guests, shooting small, forced smiles their way.

"Why do we always have to do this?", he had asked Naveen. "Why couldn't we just release the damn book in stores? Why host a useless social gathering with forty thousand rich snobs who are only any good at showing off and draining your energy?"

Naveen had shook his head and hit him with an assertive "it's necessary."

So currently, Ethan stood awkward to his bones, in the middle of this necessary evil. Until, a certain presence near the door cued him to look up.

It was them.

Pantsuit in a sinful vermillion, the colour glowing bright against their skin. Red bottom wedges, that only aided their boss status. Brunette locks framing their face, so impeccably contrasting the emerald eyes looking affectionately back at him. Those, which never failed to take his breath away.

Inara Hepburn.

His giver, his lover, his Rookie.

And Ethan couldn't be more mesmerized, or reassured.

"Need some help picking your jaw off the floor, Ramsey?" Inara quipped, as they strode towards Ethan, torturously slow.

"I– well…", he stammered, before clearing his throat. "Is that look the reason why you chose to arrive 'fashionably late', and drive separately to my book launch from our own apartment?"

"Yeah, definitely the look, but I daresay some other things as well", they said, placing a playful hand on Ethan's chest. "You'll soon find out."

He smiled warmly at them. "Is that a challenge?"

"Have you ever backed down from one?"

A reckless mistake of letting his eyes slip to their lips, and Ethan couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped his arms around their waist, kissing them hard and deep. Drinking in their mouth, their warmth, their sensations. Aching to draw as much energy as he could to power through this event, from his greatest source of confidence, his only constant supporter. 

"I love you so much, Rookie", he panted, after the kiss broke off.

"Some brand new information there", teased Inara, bumping their nose into his. "You know I love you too, E. Now tell me what's bothering you."

Ethan pulled back swiftly at that, and stared at them in astonishment.

"What?"

"What 'what'? It was all over your face when I entered, and you still don't look quite alright. What's wrong, love? I don't recall you being afraid of public speaking!"

"I'd address an audience in my dreams! I just don't understand what's up with these people who come up individually to congratulate me, and purposefully try to expand those two lines into a whole one-on-one conversation. Scandalous!"

Inara nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Such a mood, b*tch, such a mood."

Peels of laughter were shared again, at their effortless mutual understanding, and at the usage of Inara's all time favourite nickname.

"All the best", they wished, shaking him by the lapels of his coat. "Get out there, and kill it!"

.

.

.

About an hour later, applause sounded from every corner of the atrium. Ethan beamed, as he finished reading the last line of a snippet about his latest research from his book.

Clapping proudly from the crowds was Inara, a lover on a mission.

"Thank you everyone, for joining me here today", Ethan said, amongst cheers and buzzing words of encouragement from fellow doctors and other esteemed medical personalities. "I hope I will be able to add value to patient-care through my efforts behind this book. There are some people I would like to specifically thank for being of immense help on my journey till here, so let's begin. Dad, thank you so much for coming to support me. Means a lot. Maybe because of my personal outlook, I could never comprehend your brand of unconditional love, which you so freely offer without actively needing me to work for it. I know now how valuable and rare that is, and how it has helped me grow into the man I am today. For that I will always be grateful. Naveen, thank you so much. You know if I start listing 'what for', I won't finish."

A lighthearted chuckle spread among the crowd.

"You always keep saying my success is my own, but I firmly believe there was no way I would have been the doctor I am without your help and guidance. Thank you for being the excellent mentor and leader by example that you are, you still motivate me to become better everyday. And, last but not the least… Inara."

All eyes in the audience shifted towards one young attending, who was clutching her glass out of giddiness.

"I really want to say thank you, but those two words will never be able to express the amount of gratitude I hold towards you. Before you, my life was only ever about blacks and whites. Giving my everything into medicine, working late nights and coming back to an empty apartment with scotch in my hand, I thought I was doing it all right. But when I met you, got to know you, I… you left me in utter awe of who you are, both as a professional and as a person. I couldn't stop myself from falling in love, and in respect, with your brain, your mind, and your soul. I am so glad you were patient with me while I was busy trying to deny it. You continued to show that patience even until recently, when I was all cranky with writer's block. Now I know the great Dr. Inara Hepburn is also a published novel writer, so of course that bit might have come out of empathy, but nonetheless, I'm thankful for it. Today, I'm about to release a book I put my all into, the information in which might hopefully change the face of what I'm most passionate about – public healthcare, for the better. And I'd rather not share this moment with anyone else. So Inara, would you please honour me by coming up on stage to receive the first ever copy of 'Prognosis and Evaluation'?"

Inara couldn't speak, stunned into silence for a bit. They had no idea Ethan would be the one for emotional public speeches, and here they were, utterly moved, in for another surprise. So would he be, soon, they reasoned in their head, and gathered themselves. Keeping their drink aside on a table, they strode towards the stage, eyes shining with pride, love, and determination.

Determination to get this right.

Ethan took their hand as soon as they stepped on the first stair, and led them upstage. 

A copy of the book, new and shining, was lying, all theirs to hold.

'Prognosis and Evaluation: A comprehensive study.'

Their heart swelled at the words written on the first page of the book.

Typical Ethan's handwriting, somehow neat and gibberish at the same time.

'My love, my north star, I promise to never let you down' - Dr Ramsey Ethan <3.

Tears. Instantly, a whole lot of them rolled down their cheeks. They clutched the book hard and hugged it to their chest, holding on tight. Ethan held them in turn, locking their shaking frame in his embrace, as the crowd broke into a unanimous applause.

"E, I don't know what to say", Inara began, on being handed over the mic. "Si would have cried so much if she were present here, Naveen's already crying."

Their grandmentor smiled back at them through his tears.

"The thing is, I love success. I love standing in the spotlight, having my own life, and earning my own achievements. Despite that, there is always a deeper warmth in standing next to someone you love, when they accomplish great things, and shouting "my person!" Today, you've given me that opportunity, and I'm so grateful to you for it. I'm proud of you for believing in yourself, and speaking your voice not as a "mechanism of coping with the means of this corrupt world", but as a means to bring genuine change because you believe you can. I've always seen you try so hard to never let your loved ones down, and that effort is what I'm so here for. People like you are rare, and I'm glad I got one to myself, to constantly cheerlead for, now and as long as you'll have me. I'll never leave your side, Ethan. I'd love us to forever be each other's hype person. Not just in practice, but also… officially."

Three distinct gasps were heard in the room.

Alan, Naveen and Tobias let their pinkies lock into each other.

Ethan's eyes widened, as he took in the meaning behind their words, starting to sense what might be coming.

Doubt. Disbelief. Shock. Anticipation.

In the next moment, they were down on one knee.

"Ethan Jonah freaking Ramsey, will you marry me?"

Dead silence in the entire room, everyone taking in what just happened.

Ethan's hands flew to his mouth.

Minutes passed.

One… two… and five...

No one said a word.

Eventually, the entire audience burst into cheers and jubilation. Even in such a formal event as that, quite a few wayward whistles were heard.

And then there was the man of the hour, standing centre stage, shell shocked. Still trying to process everything.

"Inara... Rookie, I–"

He couldn't. Form words or coherent sentences. His entire focus was on the person and the tiny blue box in front of him.

"There's a ring in there for real?"

'Shit', he cursed internally. What a ridiculous question.

Of course this was real. Their love was real, they were real. He was to get married. What? Wow. Really?

Of course there would be a ring for real.

"Depends", Inara said with a wink. "On whether or not you say yes."

"Come on Ethan!" 

Encouragements burst from his acquaintances in the crowd, imploring him to say yes. His three musketeers, however, were heard the loudest.

'Yes', Ethan thought to himself. 'Yes.'

He had to say it.

"Yes", he tried whispering under his breath.

A first time, then a second.

"Yes. YES OF COURSE I’LL MARRY YOU!"

He exclaimed those words in ecstacy before dropping down on his knees as well, and pulled his lover in against him. He engulfed her in his arms, holding her so tight, it could knock the breath out of his chest. 

"Yes Inara, it would mean the world to me if I could marry you", he whispered again into her ear.

"Good thing I asked then, E", Inara whispered back, before squeezing him one last time and pulling away. 

"Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!", the crowd chanted.

The widest smile ever was shot their way, as Inara once again took hold of the navy box. She waited for both of them to steady themselves, and Ethan found himself holding his breath. 

At last, the cover of the ring case slowly lifted, to reveal… 

A bright yellow ring chip sitting right into the slit of the fabric in the case. 

Confused noises of varying degrees filled the room. Only Naveen, Tobias and Alan watched the whole scene unfold with a twinkle in their eye.

Meanwhile, Ethan's expression progressed from utter cluelessness to gradual realization.

Oh! That ring.

"Wait, how did– how come that snack didn't rot in all these days?"

"Of course it did, love. Our original measuring tape probably decomposed long ago in some trash bin outside a gold shop, after having done its job. This is merely a replica, but you can call it a token."

"Nars… what do you mean?"

"I mean…", Inara said, inserting her hand into her suit pocket, to pull out a sparkling golden band, complete with five little diamonds on top. "May I have your hand?"

"Readily, Rookie… you already have my heart. Always, for as long as you'll have me."

Ethan placed his shivering palm on Inara's steady hand, and she took the opportunity to slip the golden band through his ring finger.

A perfect fit. 

With tears in his eyes, Ethan agreed.

"I'm getting married to you."

"I'm getting married to you!"

Inara squealed at the prospect, and Ethan decided on sealing their joyous sentiment by crashing his lips onto hers in a searing kiss.

The audience went wild, but they were all forgotten in the minds of the lovebirds.

"I can't believe I get to call you fiancé", Ethan wondered in amazement.

"Me neither", said Inara, joining their foreheads together. 

"Say what, we should ask Sienna to bake our wedding cake. Three tier, with a big old fondant ring chip on top."

"What? Ethan Ramsey wants a huge a** fondant snack on the top of his wedding cake! Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yes, he is, and he would do anything for his fiancé!"

With moist eyes and full hearts, they buried themselves again in each other's holds.

This time, with a mutual promise of a forever.

F I N.

Oukay so this happened. I kinda posted it. Shh, I need to breathe.

Thank you so much for reading, if you've made it this far. I hope I haven't damaged too many of your braincells.

Thank you @gaeipsstuff for naming Ethan's book. I would have never, seriously! Thanks for proofreading and giving a detailed analysis, it came extremely handy during the my edit sessions. Thank you @adiehardfan, @jeetushmannfeelz, you know if it wasn't for the both of you, this wouldn't be up on my Tumblr.

This is my first proper OH fic, with an actual story and shenanigans, so I've been super apprehensive about this. Hence, it would mean a real lot to me if you could tell me how you found it. Stay safe, do what you love, stan pixelated characters, and take hugs. Peace✌.

Tagging: @adiehardfan @irisofpurple @barbean

Others kindly let me know if you wanna be tagged!

[jungshookz]

Winemaker!Hobi!!!! y/n is wine tasting with her friend (idk why people go wine tasting but I'm sure it's for parties or something) and she forgets you aren't actually supposed to SwaLLow the wine and gets a little tipsy and she embarrasses herself, and her friend, but Hobi is like uwu she cute

➺ pairing; jung hoseok x reader

➺ genre; sommelier!hoseok, mostly comedy because y/n’s kind of a dummy 

➺ wordcount: 3.6k

➺ what to expect; “the choice to spit or swallow is entirely up to you.”

➺ note; after one million years i have returned with a hobi drabble!! i thought this request was sO good and also everyone look how handsome sommelier!hoseok is :’)) i hate wine but i would chug ten bottles just to sit around and listen to him explain to me how white wines go with creamy foods and red wines go with spicy foods :’)) okay happy reading clink clink!! (gif source unknown but i found it off here!!)

                                        ༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

sometimes the fact that you’re friends with kim taehyung genuinely confuses you

not just because you’re complete opposites in terms of literally everything but also because-

well… that’s pretty much it.

the two of you are like... a peanut butter and pickle sandwich!

when you first look at it you might think that combination is a little funky anD could possibly lead to destroying a toilet BUT when you actually give it a try you realise it’s actually pretty great!

…you get the point

so when taehyung told you that he wanted to spend his birthday at a wine tasting event, you really weren’t that surprised because of couRse he wants to spend his birthday drinking wine and socialising with other wine snobs instead of doing something actually fun like… literally anything else in the entire world

you’ve always prided yourself on being a good friend so if wine tasting was what taehyung wanted, then wine tasting was what he’d get!

but, uh

to be perfectly honest

you’re not really a wine person

you’re more of a margarita person

you just don’t see the appeal of drinking fermented grapes!!!!

why drink bitter grape juice when you can drink sugary lime goodness??

why drink something that’s been ageing in a barrel for like fifteen years when you can drink something that nevER ages due to the insane amount of additives in the premix formulas??

“wowiE, check out that spread!” you look over at the round table in the centre of the room as you and tae trickle in with the rest of the participants of the event “is that fondue?? holy shit.”

“hopefully you don’t burn the roof of your mouth again.” taehyung snorts before the smile falters on his face, “…maybe you should stay away from the fondue altogether.”

the two of you take your seats (there are fancy name cards for everyone!!) and you smooth your skirt out before smiling politely at a couple of the other people at the table

so far, the rest of the people here are… to put it as nicely as possible… more mature than you thought they’d be

but then again this is a wine-tasting seminar so it would be a huge surprise to see other twenty-something year olds hanging out here

you feel out of place but taehyung is just soaking it all up

he’s happily chatting away with the older gentleman seated next to him

sometimes you tell taehyung that you feel like he’s a fifty-five year old man trapped in the body of a twenty-four year old

and he never fights back because he knows it’s true

you let out a breath as you take a look around the room

god

you’re going to be stuck here for a good two hours drinking wine

maybe you can sneak away to the hotel bar or something

taehyung probably wouldn’t notice, right?

but would that make you a bad friend?? abandoning him here when you said this was a thing you were going to do with him??

“you know, i see myself as a wine enthusiast. the more i drink, the more enthusiastic i become!” taehyung laughs heartily and the other couples join him

christ almighty  

you’re tempted to ask him which wine-mom facebook page it was that he stole that joke from

“does anyone have the time? i think it might be wine o’ clock soon…”

you let out a quiet groan as you feel your soul literally float out of your body

okay well

that’s your cue

you are ouTTa here

just as you’re about to get up off your chair, you hear the door slam shut and-

“good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! welcome to today’s wine-tasting event. my name is hoseok, and i’m going to be your host…”

you shift in your seat as you follow the host with your eyes

you feel your heart skip a beat when he spins around to face the table

oh

he’s handsome  

like vERY handsome

perfectly tousled dark brown hair

bright twinkly eyes

his nose is literally perfect!!! perfectly slanted and perfectly pointed!!!

and his smile!!!!! it’s shaped like a heart!!!!! how precious!!!!

the thin gold chain hanging around his neck winks at you under the lights and you swallow thickly

it seems as though you’ve found a reason to stay at this event

as hoseok begins to explain how the structure of the event is going to pan out, you find yourself paying extra attention to the way his lips curve around certain words

“as you’ve probably already noticed, there’s an abundance of different dishes in front of you that’ll go great with some of the wine you’ll be tasting today… over here, a roasted fruit and cheese platter… a smoky three cheese fondue with some freshly baked french baguette slices on the side… popcorn with sesame glazed pistachios…” he slowly makes his way around the table as he introduces each of the dishes and you feel your heart drumming away as he gets closer and closer to you, “dark chocolate sea salt cashews… baked brie with figs and walnuts…”  

and you think it might be a nervous habit or something but whenever he pauses his tongue pokes out quickly to lick over his bottom lip

whatever it is it’s cuTE

as he passes you and tae you catch a whiff of his cologne and for some reason you instinctively cross your legs

and when hoseok looks directly at you your thighs automatically squeeze together and-

oh god

okAY you need to relax

why don’t you just stare at the fondue or something??

ya

you’ll do that

you immediately look down at the three cheese fondue and you begin counting how many chunks of baguettes there are on the plate sitting next to it to keep you distracted

it’s a shame you’re staring down this fondue instead of paying attention to hoseok because you don’t notice the way his eyes scan over you before he’s quickly looking over at someone else

“i believe it’s essential to expectorate when you’re tasting a wide variety of wines, but i’m well aware that some people might not be comfortable with spitting into cups and pouring that into a dump bucket, so-“ you look back up at hoseok after you finish counting the baguette chunks (you counted twenty six but some are hidden under others) “the choice to spit or swallow is entirely up to you.”

you immediately choke (on nothing??? apparently??? goD you’re lame) and reach over to grab your glass of water to keep yourself from bursting into giggles

tae gives you a couple pats on the back before rolling his eyes playfully

you find toilet humour pretty funny so he’s not surprised that you chokEd over the spitting or swallowing thing

the corner of hoseok’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he hears you whisper: “in my humble opinion, spitters are quitters-“ to your friend before you’re pressing your lips together and holding back a grin

he looks at your name tag quickly

y/n y/l/n

how cute

“so you’re going to want to hold the glass up and examine the wine against the light,” hoseok explains, “what you’re looking for are colour and clarity.”

you let out a little sigh as you prop your cheek up on your fist while the other hand holds up your glass on wine

you look down at the information sheet on the table

it’s basically just a list of the wines that you’re trying today and you’re still on number one

it’s been like fifteen minutes!!!  

there are seven wines you have to go through!!!

this hoseok guy is hot but gee whiZ he really takes his time with things

you could probably explain the wine better and faster than him!!

the colour of the wine is red!

…and you don’t know what clarity means so you’re just going to say that the clarity of the wine is also red!

“now stick your nose into the glass and give that a good whiff. what do you smell?” hoseok pauses as he looks around the table

“i’m getting notes of… i’m thinking strawberry…?”

“yes, so am i!”

“is it strawberry or cherry? i feel like it’s easy to mix those two up.”

“there’s something nutty… i’m picking up something nutty but i’m not quite sure…”

“it smells like wine to me.” you blurt out and tae elbows you when you get a couple irritated glances from your fellow wine buddies

what???

were you wronG??

you lean over to get closer to tae, “when are we drinking??” you whisper as hoseok continues to babble on about the different notes that you should be picking up on

“hush.” tae scowls before nudging you back

goD

this is torture!!!

“go ahead and give that a taste.”

aH

there we go

you tilt your head back as you down the wine in one go

down the ol’ hatchet!

also

another reason as to why you’d be a much better sommelier than hoseok: his serving sizes are tiny!!!! how are you supposed to properly taste and appreciate the wine when he gave each of you like a tiny baby shot of it??

“now, this wine pairs particularly well with the dark chocolate sea salt cashews, so feel free to try that combination.”

you perk up at the mention of eating

noW we’re talking

>:)

so

since the two of you are here for him, taehyung didn’t think that he’d have to worry too much about you

because today is his day! he should be able to enjoy his fancy wine tasting event! he wants to chat about how the creamy brie cheese compliments this rich white wine! he wants to learn about how different types of glasses can change the way you taste a certain type of wine!!

but NO

he doesn’t check up on you for good half an hour and thIS is what he gets

you’re wasted

zooted!!!

completely gone!!!!

you’re slumping back against your chair with a dopey little smile on your face while trying to balance a little chunk of camembert cheese on the tip of your pointer finger

“y/n, you weren’t- you weren’t supposed to drink all of the wine, you blockhead-“ taehyung whispers as he plucks the cheese off your finger before using his napkin to wipe your hands clean

“well, i believe in noT being wasteful, sooOo i think you might be in the wrong here, mr. look-at-all-the-wine-left-in-my-glasses-“

“alright, so this next one is a merlot,” hoseok explains as he makes his way around the table to fill everyone’s glasses up, “in terms of flavour, it’s definitely more fruit-driven and has a more cherry-like aftertaste. it has a smoother finish compared to the cabernet sauvignon that we tried earlier…”

taehyung whacks the side of your leg when hoseok gets closer to the two of and you immediately straighten up in your seat

“wine me up, monsieur.” you hold your glass up for hoseok and offer him a bright smile

he chuckles and plucks the glass from your hand before setting it back down on the table

taehyung gives you a warning look before reaching up slowly and gesturing to keep your lips zipped

you raise your hands in defence before zipping your lips and throwing the key away anD blinking hard (it was supposed to be a wink)

taehyung raises a brow

you can’t zip your lips anD lock your lips that doesn’t make any sen-

you know what

it’s fine

as long as you don’t say anything else for the remainder of this session it’ll be fine

“everyone has a little in their glass? good. go ahead and give that a taste.” hoseok clears his throat before turning to put the bottle down

you take a small sip of it before tilting your head back and-

gurlrulrulrurlurlurrgurlugr-

“what the hell are you doing?!” tae hisses as he gives your arm a hard pinch

you choke and give your chest a couple hard pats before grimacing

“god, that did noT go down smoothly.” you whisper loudly and shake your head, “i’m giving that one a sssaaad face.” you slur as you doodle a little frowny face next to the name

taehyung’s eyes widen as he looks at what you did to your information sheet

where did you even find a pen????

‘not good very bitter if ass was a flavour then this would be ass juice’

‘supposed to be complimentary with aged cheddar but i think it would go better with a kraft single’

and then in thiS corner there are several attempts of you trying to spell sauvignon blanc and they’re all scribbled out

‘sawvinion bank. solveingrown blank. sawnananananananananananananananana batman!!!!’

oh dear god

you slap tae’s hand away before scribbling something new down

‘tasted better after gargling.’

oh dear GOD

“everything alright over there?” hoseok chirps and taehyung gives him a sheepish smile before nodding quickly

“all good! sorry, we’re all good.”

“alright, does anyone have any questions for me before we move on to-”

“oOh, i have a question!! i have one, i have one, pick me-“ you wiggle your arm around and hoseok nods in your direction

“yes, y/n?”

“i think, i think that we should order, um, we should, we should order a pizza. because these water crackers or whatever you call them are nOT doing it for me, like, look at this-“ you pick one up before popping it into your mouth and chewing obnoxiously, “fho dhry. fho DRY-” you let your jaw drop and taehyung suppresses a groan of mortification when what looks like straight up saND falls out of your mouth and sprinkles right into your wine glass

“oh, god. please stop, please stop-“ taehyung winces and quickly reaches over to snap your mouth shut

you slap tae’s hand away before swallowing your bite

“so, thoughts on this pissszzzaa?” you slur as you reach for another water cracker (tae moves the plate away before you get a chance to grab one) “is pepperoni okay with everyone? yes? yes? good? nice? yum? hm?” you look around the table while nodding enthusiastically, “barbara, my love, i noticed your earrings are from chanel which can only mean you’re loaded so because of tHAT i think you should be the one to pay for this extra large, cheese-stuffed crust pepperoni-

“okay! i think you need a time out-“ taehyung chuckles and gets up before grabbing you by the arm and yanking you up off your chair

“time out??” you gawk as you stumble over your feet, “i’m not three years old, taehyung, i- oOh, barbara, dahling, if we order within the next five minutes, we can get two cans of coke on the HOUSE-!“

sLam

“-you’re going to sit here and do nothing, got it?” taehyung scolds as he helps you get settled on the ground next to the door of the room

“i gotta say, i think all this wine is making you a little catty-“ you purr before playfully batting at taehyung’s face

luckily he moves before you get the chance to scratch his cheek

tae pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration and shakes his head, “y/n, you know you’re one of my best friends and that i care a lot about you, and i appreciate you being here with me but- today was supposed to be my day! my day! so can you please just sit here and behave? please?”

even in your drunken haze you can see that taehyung is upset with you and that’s enough to sober you up a little bit

you didn’t mean to upset him :-(

you were just trying to do this wine tasting thing right!!!!! and you weRe technically tasting the wine.,. just maybe a little too much of it.,,.

you nod slowly and reach up to zip your mouth shut

“good. the water dispenser is right there, so stay hydrated.” he gets up off the ground and dusts his knees off, “and we can order a pizza after this is over, okay?”

you nod again and offer him a meek little smile

you spend the next twenty minutes staring at the wall in silence

occasionally you looked around to see if anything besides nothING was happening

you did get up once to get yourself a little paper cone of water

and then you put the cone on the top of your head like a little party hat

but theN you realised that putting a white paper cone on top of your head was just you giving yourself a dunce cap which… was actually pretty fitting in this situation  

at the twenty-eight minute mark the door opens quietly and you immediately perk up because you automatically assume it’s tae  

“it’s y/n, right?”

“oh, uh-“ your eyes widen as hoseok slides down the wall to plop himself down right next to you “yes? yeah. i’m- yes, i’m y/n.”

“i noticed you were a fan of the dark chocolate covered cashews, so-“ he holds out a little napkin filled with the cashews before handing it over to you, “everyone in there is currently mingling with each other, so i figured i’d come out here and keep you company.”

you blink owlishly

he’s being pretty friendly considering the fact that the two of you are complete strangers

almost too friendly

…you like that :-)

because you totally like being overly-friendly with strangers too!!!!

in fact, that’s how you and tae became friends!!

but enough about tae because heLLo attractive young man sitting right next to you-

“ah, well, i’ve been staring at that patchy blotch of paint on the wall for-“ you pause to check the time on your phone, “coming up to be twenty-five minutes now, so you’re not missing out on that much.” you murmur as you unwrap the napkin and pick up a cashew before popping it into your mouth

“i, um, actually…” hoseok trails off before laughing lightly, “i wanted to come out here to talk to you about earlier-“

“oh, god. you don’t have to say anything, i know i was acting insane-“ you shake your head before snorting, “trust me, you won’T be seeing me again after the event ends-“

“but i do want to see you again.”

you freeze for a second before turning to look at him

you wait for another second to go by juSt to make sure he’s not playing around with you

“…say that again?”

“i mean… i thought you were hilarious!” he grins, “i know the alcohol was definitely a contributing factor, but i took a glance at your information sheet and-“ he pauses to pull the folded up piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, “-i don’t think i’ve ever heard anyone describe the aftertaste of a sémillon like: ‘you know lemon-scented febreze? now imagine what it’d taste like if you mixed sprayed lemon-scented febreze into a glass of bleach, because that’s what this tastes like’.” hoseok looks over at you with wide eyes, “you made this wine-tasting session way more fun than i thought it was going to be!!”

huh!

what a pleasant surprise!!!

cute boy thinks you’re funny!!!!!!

“i’m glad to hear that me humiliating myself was entertaining for you!” you joke before rolling your eyes playfully,“the only reason why i’m here is because my friend is a self-proclaimed wine snob.”

“oh, please. everyone here is a self-proclaimed wine snob.” hoseok rolls his eyes playfully, “no offence to your friend, of course.”

“oh, no. all the offence, please.” you snort and pick up another cashew, “he kicked me out to punish me but i didn’t even wanna be in there in the first place so this is actually super great.”

“ooh, i think i just felt my heart split in half…” hoseok winces dramatically as he presses a hand to his chest

you can’t help but giggle before you look away nervously

now that you’re not drunk off your ass, you feel the butterflies returning to your tummy

you barely know this guy but you’re pretty sure you’re already 500% in love with him

…what wine is he going to pick out at your guys’ wedding?

oOp

okay time to reel it in a little

“-i know this might seem a little out of the blue, but… would you wanna go out for drinks sometime… with- with me…?” hoseok clears his throat

wait what

you look back at hoseok so quickly that your head probably could’ve popped off your neck

he glances away before letting out a nervous chuckle, “i just… yeah, can i take you out?”

your eyes widen slightly

oh!!

you certainly weren’t expecting for him to ask you out but you’re definitely not complaining

“feel free to say no, i just- ah, i don’t know, i don’t usually get a lot of people my age coming to these things, and i feel like you-“

“i’d love to go out for drinks sometime… definitely with you.“ you tease as you nudge his arm gently

hoseok’s cheeks flush before he beams at you

“great! i know a place that makes really good cocktails- say, do you like margaritas?”

your lips part in a gawk

“do i like- do you wanna get married??” you scoff as you sit up straight, “i love margaritas!”

“great! i promise i won’t make you drink anything that tastes like-“ hoseok pauses to look at your sheet again, “‘mouldy grapes after they’ve been trampled on by someone with athlete’s foot’…?”

you flash him a sheepish smile

yeah

you don’t think you’re ever going to be a wine person. 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[changminsdoll]

Yeosang 《 Firsts

Gif credits to @wooyuong

Pairing: Chaebol! Yeosang x Maid! Reader

Kang Yeosang was a household name. Literally, you lived in his house for as long as you could remember.

You used to be playmates to this young chaebol until your life's hierarchy became more evident when you grew up.

Typical rich boy.

Typical maid's daughter.

However, he wasn't a snob as some young chaebols would be.

He was quite refined. Very quiet.

Only talked when talked to first.

That was something he became growing up.

The warm, lively kid you once knew was replied by an emotionless adult.

What happened behind those closed doors of his father's study probably turned him into this... robot.

You lost touch with him despite living in the same house so you were not sure if you were in the place to ask.

Anyway, you were fortunate enough to get sent to the same university as him by his father.

You felt like you were being a spy for his dad.

It was uncomfortable.

Not to add how he forced you two to be roommates when that was not normally allowed for different genders to be roomed together in this university

You two may have been just a few meters apart but it felt like you were in different worlds.

You still served as his maid. Breakfast and clothes ready before he went to class and then with you proceeding to your own.

The only words you would always interchange was when you finished a task and he would reply with a very soft 'thank you'.

He was so prim and proper.

And you were just admiring him from afar.

He was a top student and so were you. However, your scholarship made it more difficult for you as you had to keep a certain average to keep your education.

Yeosang would sometimes be surprised when he woke up in the middle of the night to get water to see you slouched over the dining table, reading the same thick book you started to read at seven that evening.

He notices how you have been struggling juggling your duties as a student and..well your duties to him.

That was when you noticed how he barely went back to the dorm. Saying he was sleeping over a friend whom you recalled going by the name Hongjoong.

You would still do your duties by cleaning his room but you would barely see him now.

Until one night, you have never seen him like this, drunk and being carried in by two other guys who introduced themselves as Mingi and Yunho.

"You must be y/n?" The boy named Mingi asked and you gave a small bow.

"Yeosang's friend." Yunho nodded and smiles softly. Surprised how these possibly equally wealthy boys did not remind you of your title.

"He isn't quite a drinker, huh? This was the first time I saw him drink..." Mingi mumbled as the two brought him to his room.

You agreed, this was also a first sight for you.

"He was on call with his father...and suddenly his whole demeanor changed and suddenly, Hongjoong is paying up for four bottles for Yeosang alone." Yunho explained.

You always knew his father was contributing to his stress but what happened now must have flipped a switch.

"Will it be okay for you to take care of him?"

"That's my job." You gave them a kind smile and they gave you a sad one in return.

"Honestly, y/n..." Mingi was about to say something when Yunho shook his head.

"Honestly, what...?" Your eyes would switch from one pair to another.

"It would be nice if she knew." Mingi said as if trying to convince Yunho to let him spill.

"Fine."

"Yeosang had brought you up with us from time to time.. we actually found it quite interesting how he said he wanted to switch dorming with us from time to time so you wouldn't have to work your ass off for his needs. He's a grown man after all."

You blinked, trying to comprehend this new piece of information.

Yunho, noticing your confusion, added along. "Yeosang cares for you as his friend, not his maid. He mentioned you were childhood friends until... you suddenly grew out of it." Yunho rubbed his nape.

After that awkward talk, you were now left alone, kneeling on the floor as you watched over Yeosang.

He seemed sad.

Tired.

It only dawned on him that you had to witness such an unrefined version of himself. Not like he was a drunk talker anyway but he had a reputation to keep after all.

And you felt the same.

He seems to have it all but he seems to not want it either.

You hesitantly placed a hand over his shoulder and gently pat it and you watched him further nuzzle against the warmth of his blankets.

He was always so nice. Caring for your tasks when you were just an employee... well apparently not to him.

He gave you more credit than you ever did to yourself.

You gave him a small smile knowing he wouldn't see it.

You did your best to take care of him.

To the point of preparing hangover soup for him.

So it came to a surprise when you entered his room with a prepped breakfast.

It felt like he had been so unrefined as a drunk person despite just being knocked out when you saw him.

"Sorry"

"For what?"

"For being whatever I was last night."

"For being normal?"

And he gave you that one look.

Like he wanted you to help him but didn't know if you could.

"You don't think I'm normal?" He laughed sadly and that was the first you've heard him laugh in years.

"I do... but do you?" And your eyes widened and quickly shook your hands. "I MEAN-"

He waved it off. "I understand what you mean. It's been a while, y/n." He smiled at you, the smile you could remember from when you were kids.

"Yeosang... " you had let his name slip and he seems more comfortable being called that. "What happened to you?"

He sensed your worry for him.

How would he be able to downplay his situation.

He was the only child of the Kang Family and was raised to be the next heir without being asked if he wanted to be one. He never had a choice.

He did when you became his friend but his father just had to take you away from him as well.

Social classes matter. His father would always say and it made his regretful that he listened.

In his eyes, you were always that one true friend who never saw him as the heir, but just a normal boy.

He hated why you became a maid for him.

He did not want you to be classified any lesser than he was.

"Life." Was what he could reply to you.

"You don't have to tell me, Yeosang." You assured and he sighed softly. "Well, you need to eat first." You gesture at the tray.

"y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..for still acting like a friend to me."

"Well, that one boy Yunho and the other boy Minho told me that you still considered me as one...so thank you as well.

He was lucky that you did not see the tips of his ears reddening. He knew he might have to smack Yunho and Mingi for saying that... but he also feels grateful they told you.

His eyes could not help but stay on you.

Then he felt it.

One strong heartbeat when you brought the spoon to his lips.

And he knew...that his first friend was going to turn i to his first crush too.

[rxbxlcaptain]

Sooo… If you're not too busy, maybe Jyn saying "I'm going to take care of you, okay?" (#5) or Cassian saying "I might've had a few shots" (#10). But there were so many to choose from it was hard to decide… (no tumblr account but I'm TinCanTelephone on AO3)

Have y’all heard of @dailyau​? They’ve been saving me recently because basically every time I see one of these prompts I’ve been turning over there and seeing if there’s any good AUs that could apply to this (because apparently I’ve recently forgotten how to write within the Star Wars universe I need to get back over there oops). Today’s one shot is based off one of their prompts: “You’re my favorite writer of all time and I’m so so pleased to finally meet you and OH MY GOD I’M SORRY I DROPPED MY TEA ON YOU” AU

I mean, read that. That’s just too good to pass up on. I combined that with Cassian saying “I might’ve had a few shots” to create this. I hope you enjoy! :D 

AO3

“What exactly are youdoing?”

Cassian startledslightly at the voice. It spoke to how distracted Cassian was by today’s eventsthat he missed Kay’s traditionally loud approaching footsteps. With thebartender quietly cleaning the counter being the only other person in the room,they should have echoed twice as loud.

Cassian wasn’t certainif it was alcohol or embarrassment that clouded his brain.

Motioning to the cheaphotel bar, Cassian said, "Imight've had a few shots."

“I leave you alone forhalf an hour,” Kay mused while shaking his head. He called the bartender over,requesting a glass of water. “May I ask whyyou felt the need to take, ahem, a fewshots?” His voice sounded skeptical and, based on the number of glasseslittering the bar in front of Cassian, he had fair reason to be so.

“It’s been a long day,”he groaned, rubbing his hand over his face.

“The meet and greet wasn’tall you expected? The award-winning authors turned out to be only human, whoneed sleep and coffee and nutrients just like you?” Kay offered. “Or perhapsthey were complete snobs with their collective noses in the air, glancing downupon the mere mortal who has only published two novellas, neither of which wereeven nominated for a Pulitzer?”

“You’re one to talkabout snobs,” Cassian snorted. “You’re one of the most elitist people I’ve evermet.”

“And yet for some reasonyou continue to associate with me.” The bartender appeared with the glass ofwater, which Kay shoved towards Cassian. Rather than drink it, Cassian simplyswirled the contents around and around. “Cassian, the story.”

Cassian resisted theurge to groan again. If he told no one else what happened today, only thethirty or so authors attending the conference would know it ever happened. Andthe waiters passing petite hors d’oeuvres. And anyone who watched the securityfootage. And…

“Cassian.” Kay clearedhis throat. “I am not asking.”

“I did the stupidestthing, Kay.” Cassian’s hands flew to his hair, the dark strands coming away awayward mess, much like Cassian’s thoughts. “I was just so eager to talk to her…”

“Talk to whom?” Kayraised his eyebrow.

“Jyn Erso,” Cassiansighed. At the blank expression on Kay’s face, he sent him an exasperated look.“The author of Stardust? And Look Up? The author who I explicitlycame to this conference to hear speak?”

“The name vaguely ringsa bell,” Kay said, waving one of his hands to dismiss the notion.

“You should. I’ve beengoing on about her since she was only publishing short stories rather thanfull-length novels. Those never received the recognition they deserved…”

“Cassian.” Kay’s voicewas sharp, drawing Cassian out of his tirade (the type of which Kay had becomequite familiar with over their years of friendship) and back to the issue athand.

“Right.” With a deepbreath, Cassian centered himself and focused on the story. “She had finishedgiving her seminar – a brilliant speech on not allowing the events of yourpasts to affect your actions of the future. You would have loved it, Kay, ifonly you had been there – Yes, yes, all right, I’m getting on with it.” Cassianrolled his eyes as Kay started tapping his fingers against the bar top as asign of his impatience. “Well, the audience filed out into a reception withfinger foods and coffee and that sort of thing.”

“Yes, you writers have apeculiar need to always have a warm beverage in hand.”

Cassian ignored theinterruption. “I grabbed a cup of tea – if only I hadn’t grabbed that tea! –and waited until Jyn joined the group. She didn’t come out for five minutes andwhen she did, everyone flocked to her immediately – really, you’d think they’dhave more dignity – so she was simply surrounded by people, which is when Irealized that if I ever wanted to speak to her, I’d need to be just as pushyand naturally that’s when everythingwent wrong.”

Kay stared at him,blinking. “I’m not sure you’ve ever talked so quickly before in your life.”

Cassian didn’t doubtthat. His words flowed in his writing, not in speech. Where he would trip andstumble while – the sheer amount of “ums”and “ers” that appeared in his speechmade him cringe – his writing flowed out of his fingertips smoothly, withoutpause or hesitation.

But if Kay wanted tohear this story, the only way Cassian could bear to repeat it is if he told itas quickly as possible. Ripping it off like a Band-Aid.

(Cassian doubted itwould hurt less to hear his humiliation repeated.)

Finally swallowing someof the water, Cassian shook his head. “What happens next is within the top fivemost embarrassing things I’ve ever done.”

“Now you sound like aclickbait article,” Kay said, rolling his eyes. “Continue, without thedramatics, please.”

“I had it all plannedout in my head,” Cassian sighed. “Tell her I’d enjoyed her seminar, point out afew of my favorite ideas, tell her my favorite of her stories. Maybe ask herwhere she gets her inspiration and then excuse myself by saying I won’t takeher away from all her other fans.” He looked towards Kay with desperation inhis eyes. “I had a plan, Kay.”

“Yes, the best laid plansof mice and men and all that.” Once again, Kay dismissed Cassian’s words with aflick of his hand. “Cassian, I grow impatient. Get to the point.”

“I spilled my tea onher,” Cassian blurted out. “I attempted to shake her hand and spilled tea alldown the front of her dress. Her whitedress, Kay. Her favorite dress is likely ruined because some stupid,hopeless fan wanted to slobber all over her and tell her how amazing she is,which she has to already know. And Icouldn’t get out a proper apology, I was just sputtering and standing therelike an idiot while the people around me got towels and actually be useful.”

Kay stayed silent for amoment, staring at Cassian with his eyebrows slightly raised. Then, he burstout laughing, a sound so unlike Kay that Cassian took a moment to remember heshould be offended.

“Kay,” he growled. “Thisis not funny.”

“Oh, yes, yes, it is,”Kay contradicted between laughs. “This is perhaps the funniest thing I’ve heardin years.” He continued, ignoring Cassian’s glower. “’Her favorite dress is likely ruined. I’ve ruined my reputation as awriter and she’ll never know how much I love her.’ Honestly, Cassian, doyou hear yourself? You’ve been driven to drink by spilling tea on a woman youwere trying to compliment. She must have been attractive as well as talented.”

Cassian ignored the wayhis cheeks flamed. “That’s not relevant at all.”

“Ah, there it is. The realreason you’re so embarrassed. Jyn Erso is not only one of the most talentedauthors you’ve ever come across, but also a young beauty. Did plans for atropical honeymoon and three lovely, dark eyed children feature into your planof how that conversation should have gone?”

Cassian wished he hadsomething to throw at the man. “And you claim to be my friend.”

“I am being your friend,”Kay reassured him, standing from his bar stool. “Friends tell friends when they’rebeing ridiculous. And, right now, you’re being ridiculous, Cassian. You’vestill got two days left in this conference. Perhaps tomorrow you can find Ms.Erso and laugh the whole ordeal off.”

Groaning, Cassianfollowed Kay off the stool and towards the hotel elevators. “I’ll never be ableto speak around her again.”

“You managed to rallyafter being denied from publishers thrice before being published,” Kay noted,pressing the up button twice in a row. “Somehow I imagine you’ll manage torebound from this.”