#Honestly I doubt it you're on anon and even the One person that didn't send an ask on anon

[theglizzardwizard]

😐 are you for real?

#If that's true that sucks so bad #Honestly I doubt it you're on anon and even the One person that didn't send an ask on anon #Was on an empty side blog like I wouldn't be able to logic out who's who based on the bio + blorbo reblogs #Anyway: y'all aren't associated with the child rapist fandom and I'm not associated with whoever blew y'all shit up the last time #I only found out about it because I had to journey into ttp my damn self to make sure that this wasn't related to the irl shit going on #Scrolled back six+ months into like 60 separate twitters #And saw posts about people making fun of y'all #So fucking. Obviously I'm not even alone in thinking y'all are cringe and doubly so for not being able to take it on the chin #When someone makes some rude posts on a blog that didn't even have shit to do with you #Four months before you saw it #Gaaaaaaahddahmn #Now some of your vent posts live on my roommates studio wall #Which is just the living room still #Strangers see that shit daily

[moonsplit]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIII

i was wondering if i could request some fluffy or angsty toh hunter×gn!bard!reader headcannons.

that's the overall request, but if i can get a little specific, i would like if you'd include something about the reader being an actual half witch half human, maybe they get angry/sad because everyone uses the term half-a-witch as if it's something to be ashamed of being.

seeing hunter being so appreciative of willow in for the future made me get back into my hunter brainrot and honestly your fluffy hunter hcs were one of the only good hunter×reader work i could find here, i got SO SAD when i realized that was the only work you had published, so here i am, begging for more.

anyway, thx byeeeeee!

↠ "Half-a-witch, huh?" ↞

* pairing ↠ TOH - Hunter x gn!bard!reader * word count ↠ 881 * tags ↠ fluff, soft angst,

* notes ↠ This is the biggest compliment ever omg!! Thank you anon :D

You had a rough time growing up, hearing everyone use what you were as an insult

"Half-a-witch" this and "half-a-witch" that

It wasn't fun having everyone berate and doubt you for it either

People with better intentions would praise you for basic spells

Things you learned in grade school

Even if it did take you a bit longer to learn, they didn't have to treat you as if your existence was weird and wrong

Joining the bard track at Hexside was a choice you'd never regret, but some days people would get insufferable

As if using an instrument was "easier" than spell circles and didn't take even more training and practice just to get right

But noooo, the only thing easier than the bard track was potions, clearly

Meeting Hunter for the first time was certainly.. an experience

Why was this guy camping out at school?

The Boiling Isles was unique, sure, but as far as you knew there weren't many people living in the hidden areas of school

He stumbled over his introduction before running off, you chasing after him

Through a series of convoluted events, you got wrapped up in everything

It started with Hunter, you bringing him snacks and trying to pry any information from this weirdo you could

But, well, the whole school got covered in illusions

You managed to run into him and Gus, the three of you joining forces

Music was useful after all, while Gus could see through the illusion, you could use what was essentially echolocation

The panic attack he had.. wait-

He was the freaking golden guard??

Okay, okay, more important things to think about

But still, pretty important revelation that you're definitely gonna ask about later

And.. the day of unity? It was a sham?

You learned so much in the past day it was hard to digest

You went home, sulking into the familiarity of your bed

And the next day, or, next few days- leading up to the day, you joined the CATS, and their plans-

You were too deep, even if you didn't want to help, which you did, you also probably had a target on your back from being seen with Hunter

When the day came, you were shaken to your core

Everything was happening so fast, so many people to their knees-

Not to mention you were in the freaking human realm

You had been told by your mom that she managed to wander through a door, getting trapped in the demon realm

So you'd only ever heard stories of rain that was cold, the lack of magic..

You had always wanted to see it, your other parent had too- but the two of you only ever got stories from your mom

The victory of it was overshadowed by the fear

Everyone was badly injured, only one of you had been here before, and oh yeah, let's not forget to mention, you had no way of knowing what happened after you left!

It was high tensions for everyone

You spent the months growing close to the group, particularly Hunter

He was the first person you had made your friend, it was only natural you gravitated towards him

You ended up spilling your life's story to him, just a smidge

He listened as you told him about your parents, a brief complaint about "half-a-witch" sending him into a rant

"That insult is stupid, you have some of the most unique bard magic I've seen despite being half human! Luz beat me in a duel with her glyphs, and she's not even half witch, Willow's plant magic is seriously powerful, even-"

He cut himself off, faltering and putting his hands back in his lap. "Sorry."

He shook his head, when you tried to get him to keep going. Well, that was alright- baby steps, I guess.

"You think my technique is unique?"

"It's similar to old wild magic, your spell circles- were they plant or construction? They could both be useful with bard magic now that I think about it..." he trailed off, mumbling as he tried to work it out in his head.

"You saw those? I thought I was subtle! They were so tiny too,"

"It's my job to be observant, I'm the Golden Gua-"

It went silent

Hunter fiddled with his hands and shirt.

You put a hand over his own, causing him to flinch harder than you had seen someone flinch before and push your hand away

"It's okay, it takes time."

"How long is this going to go on? I can't take it."

Neither of you had an answer, of course.

Sure, you guys were safe- relatively, at least

But you couldn't stay in the human realm with no way back

And neither of you had gone through what Hunter was going through

You didn't even know the full extent of it

You spoke up after a few moments of pure silence, save for breathing

"I don't know, but I'll stay by your side. If you'll let me."

"I think I'd like that. Is that weird? That feels weird?"

"Nah, I think Luz made a bet on it though."

"A bet on what?"

You shrugged. "Who knows? It's Luz."

If you could capture the snicker that came from him for eternity, you would.

#I didn't edit this because I was too eager to post it #so I hope it isn't too bad! #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter toh #gender neutral reader #hunter x reader #hunter x gender neutral reader #fluff #x reader #soft angst #i hope this works well! #ALSO GENUINELY THANK YOU #THAT WAS SUCH A COMPLIMENT #today on: Sol wrote more than he thought he was going to and now you have to deal with it #toh

[raccoonfallsharder]

tiny lil violet anon here!! hh second guessing is really common w creatives (i would know.. i'm a digital artist) but i want you to know that you're probably one of my favourite fic writers and you actually inspired me to start working on a rocket x reader fic of my own a while back!!! (would you mind if i sent you my fic if i ever finished it?)

honestly, i dont think you have to worry about how well you capture rocket's voice bc honestly you're one of, if not the best i've read— your triptych day 17 fic was genuinely mindblowing for example?? your understanding of how different people write rocket is so in depth and the way you made all three renditions of rocket different but so clearly still rocket got me awestruck (do you have any tips on writing the 3 different rockets btw? i'd love to understand more about how you differentiate them! ><)

i remember reading the boring adventures of space pilot and sweatshirt girl for the first time after reading the rocket comics and thinking that helping rocket out on that ferry was exactly what i was hoping someone would write?? it was the fic i needed and didn't deserve LMAO literally every thing you've written has always filled a gap that i didn't know was there & didn't know i needed ♡♡

sorry for the ridiculously long ask ^^; your work genuinely means so much to me and im totally in love with how you write rocket— while ik every artist doubts themselves, i want you to know that the work you create is so much better than you give yourself credit for!

tiny little violet nonnie!! (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) you precious sweet little flower. please don’t apologize for long asks - i love them (they just take a while for me to respond to). this was also so, so sweet, and the idea that any of my writing means a lot to you kinda makes me teary ♡

i would love to read your fanfic! even if you don’t finish it! you can always send it my way via dms or share via ask if you wanna stay on anon. or post it and tag me ♡ the fact that i was able to inspire you a little bit is honestly one of the most lovely compliments i could receive and it is truly an honor

(｡•́︿•̀｡)

i’m also so grateful that you enjoyed sweatshirt girl ♡ one of my favorite things about fanfiction is that it can give us the stories we need and deserve (or give us the opportunity to write them!). honestly reading grounded all i wanted to do was pick up that raccoon and take him home and feed him warm food and that’s how sweatshirt girl happened ♡o(╥﹏╥)o♡

so part of the reason i took a long time to respond is because i was trying to really think about how i write the different rockets. and i decided i only have one “tip” for you (or rather, one thing that worked for me and which i hope might also work for you.

but you know im gonna take ten paragraphs to get there!

tbh even though i refer to them by their respective authors, i don’t think “i need to write rocket like skottie young” or “i need to write rocket like james gunn.” i think “i need to know rocket, and understand him, and figure out how he would react & interact in skottie young’s galaxy” or “in the mcu.”

my short tip for writing any character is understand what makes them tick. what drives them? what do they long for? how do they hurt? what do they fear? in what ways do their insecurities and survival mechanisms weave together and impact the way they see the world, interact with friends, protect themselves from enemies?

your best tool as a writer of characters is your ability to empathize with them.

know and love your characters the same way you do your best friends. as authors we are playing god with their world and their lives and it’s a little bit of a sacred responsibility to at least make sure we understand them as well as we can ♡

so for rocket specifically…

fundamentally, my personal interpretation of rocket in any universe is someone with profound empathy, who feels pain very deeply. and since he hasn’t had the opportunity to like, see & practice healthy coping mechanisms lol, he has learned to survive by trying to hide that empathy and that pain under layers of calcification and sarcasm and spikes and blades. and it like, kinda works?? but sometimes it ends up hurting people who don’t deserve to be hurt and when he realizes that, the hidden empathy kicks in and he hates himself all over again.

and like many people, rocket also doesn’t really want to give up his pain. people tend to fight to keep their most hurtful memories or vulnerabilities locked inside. they build so much of their identities around them.

so the real question comes down to, what is each rocket’s source of pain? how does that impact how he interacts and thinks? what is his support system at the point in time that i’m like, crashing his party? how does that impact his interactions and thoughts?

skottie young’s rocket gets laid, so he’s not going to be worried about seducing anyone tbh. he’s probably got the most confidence out of all the rockets, at least on the surface. geez, the 2014 run? it’s like. all about his copious ex-girlfriends and about he’s the only one of his kind in the whole universe. if i were gonna write a full fic based on skottie young’s rocket, i’d base my foundation on the idea that the reason rocket has so many exes is because he’s constantly searching for something that he doesn’t believe exists (basically, someone who can make him feel not-alone) and he probably ends up sabotaging his chances every fuckin time he gets close.

ewing’s or rosenberg’s rocket? still canonically gets laid but has gotten treated like dirt enough times — including being betrayed by people he trusts at various points — that he’s always waiting for that to happen. and mcu rocket? that boy is so insecure about his worth on every level that if he has any pleasant interaction with anyone, he’s probably baffled about why the fuck it’s happening.

all this to say: how do you see (each) rocket? how does he move through the galaxy his authors creates for him? and how does that change when you step in and make something different for him?

it’s late here and my brain is foggy so i’m sorry if i didn’t fully and properly answer your question, sweet little violet .｡༅:*ﾟ*:✼✿ all this to say that if i am successful at all in effectively communicating rocket, it’s more about studying (my interpretation of) who he is in each setting than studying a writer’s style, if that makes sense.

ahhh good night, little love. i am an old baba yaga and i must sleep

#rfh asks #rfh writing advice #just fanfiction things #fanfiction writer #tiny lil violet nonnie

[pcrfectstorms]

youre absolutely fucking insane if you think she faked those screenshots. i think you're just afraid to take accountability for the fact that you're being malicious, but you'd rather blame someone else for shit you've said. honestly your behaviour is disgusting and you have no reason to be putting yourself into this when it didnt involve you in the first place. you're acting like you're a child. you and kingsnack are the same kind of person; you're both unable to actual sit down and see how you've fucked up. also posting her screenshots from the call out just proves you're stalking her. and you both have these sheep who mindlessly believe anything you say and will defend you to the grave. it's really sad NEITHER of you can stand your ground without other people.

grow up. maybe talk to her about shit before you start acting like this. you both never spoke to her about a single thing. you jumped the gun and started perpetuating drama. i can already IMAGINE you're gonna 'clown' this because you're fucking 'doing something'.

Firstly, lets be real here if you think the two weird ass american as fuck written comments came from me you're the insane one. they're faked, badly so, they're not even the same font as tumblr, but whatever. you believe whatever you want to believe, and tbh you know they're faked since you made them. The only one comment i made about the whole thing was on your friend Nik's post, and granted yeah, it was petty of me, I will admit that, but i am a virgo, petty is what we do.

As far as 'me and kingsnack being the same kind of person' yeah we are, we're both done with this fuckery and wish y'all would move on to the next drama you'll inevitably create. I don't have mindless sheep that mindlessly believe me, I'm not in high school babe, I don't need a 'clique' I will happily and have always happily stood my ground again bullies (newflash, that's what y'all are) you talk about a 'smear campaing' while faking screenshots of things i didn't say. it's pathetic and childish and a level on unhinged i have never encountered my entire tumblr career. I have been on this hellsite since 2010 and have never been involved in drama in all that time, so i think that speaks for itself about who i am as a person. you have a DNI longer than my reading list, and call out post circulating every news cycle.

i suggest you go outside, get some fresh air and maybe call your therapist.

p.s. i don't call people 'nasty bitches' if i wanted to insult you i'd call you a cunt babe, i'm scottish.

don't bother sending anymore nonsence, or do, i really don't care. but this is the only anon i will be answering on the topic. if you wanna wear your big girl pants and stop hiding behind a grey face, go ahead, but i doubt that since you're a coward.

#❛ shit talking ❜ [ ooc ] #fatestriken #killaers #can you just fuck off now babe thanks

[writingmochi]

i realised that i don't show enough of my appreciation to you, which is why i felt the need to change that and send you this ask today!! lissie, you are one of the most creative people that i know on this platform, the overall look of your blog, the way you write your posts especially for your masterlist or events and milestones, the ideas that you have for your fics and the dedication that you work with towards them- there's just so many details and so many things that you do which leave me looking in awe and admiration. you're a person that i respect a lot and that always inspires me, please keep doing what you do, and keep on being you<3 i love you!!!!!

lissie:

... hi anon !!! :] apologies for replying to this so late nearly a week later because i'm so busy irl being the end of this semester and preparing to study abroad in the next one.

honestly, i was speechless to receive this as (1) i didn't expect it at all (2) i was having doubts about my standing here [like always cause it's normal after all], hence why it took me so long to finally answer this and i think that image at the top covers my first impression of this ask perfectly hehe.

i wanna say thank you so much for sending this and for giving an utmost appreciation for things that other people might have not noticed. i might say that i may be *too* dedicated to creating fics here when the audience wants shorter, bite-size fics while i make those long novel-like fics that take time and care to fully appreciate. i think in a world that wants to consume things instantly, slowing down to appreciate even the minuscule things could be helpful and i'm grateful to find out that you have done that with my blog and its contents.

truly, i should also appreciate you and others more who take a chance on finding out about this blog and taking in whatever content i'm putting out and finding something you like about it. and, i'm trying my best to do so by creating quality content that satisfies me but also be able to make you like it.

once again, thanks so much anon, and sending lots of love from me to you all <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

#message to the moon #messenger: anonymous

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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#fic: it’s definitely you #faes fanfics #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung x oc #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

[bcacstuff]

I saw a few comments saying the man isn’t tall enough to be Sam. Well, a camera from a distance can always make a person and objects look small, like being in a plane and looking out a window. Everything is small. No doubt that is Sam and Anna. Their skiing gear looks exactly the same as the Instagram pictures they posted on the webcam. Sam has two prior pictures posted on Instagram wearing the same ski helmet, blue goggles, and green jacket. Why is everything have to be staged or fake with your group of people when it comes to Sam? You must all be jealous of him or seriously hate him. Why go to great lengths to criticize every move he makes or the fact that Anna is 23 years old? I mean honestly, who gives a shit, except for a small group of individuals in this fandom. As long as they are happy being together, it shouldn’t matter.

You're mixing up a few things here Anon!

First of all, we're simply discussing if the figures seen on the webcam picture are the ones some people claim they are. It has nothing to do with saying it is staged. The picture is simply not sharp enough to be 100% sure. It's also discussed if he would bring his skiing gear or rent it. In light of is that him or is that not him on the pic.

Second, yes many do have problems with her age. Though if you take a good look on my blog and all that I've written about it, you wont find any remark of me about the age gap. I have a few examples in my own circle of people, and it's not that I understand it, but whatever makes another person happy, I'm not the one to judge about that.

Last, but certainly not least, is my huge disgust about how he travels around, not showing any responsibility or respect for the pandemic in the world. From day one he showed how selfish he was. Sending people to the theater to go watch his movie, disregarding all that was going on in the world. Didn't he say in his rant he was afraid to travel? Tell me what does the guy all year? Mexico, LA, SCO, London, Paris, and now most likely skiing in VT. Going to crowded places, not wearing a mask. Proudly telling how he didn't kept the rules while filming TFY, by sneaking out to the director in the evening. Like a schoolboy that skipped lessons and thinks nobody noticed. it's childish, it's selfish, it's irresponsible and it makes him look like a jerk. I do give a shit about that, and so should you.

[addictedtostorytelling]

I'm still not sure what to make of the conversation Sara and Greg have about his first days as a CSI, specifically when they are talking about how he didn't throw up in his first autopsy. What is the deeper meaning? Is she simply just reassuring him of his placement?

hi, anon!

so i've actually fic'd my take on that conversation (from sara's perspective) here, if you're interested in reading it.

just search for the words "for the rest of the night, sara holes up in evidence, finishing her paperwork and waiting for the sunrise." that's where the scene starts.

otherwise, shorter answer:

she's basically trying to cheer him up and give him a pep talk when he's doubting himself.

she comes in to congratulate him on his accomplishment but finds him in a subdued and existential mood, freaked out by his close encounter with death and clearly questioning his chops as a criminalist.

it's almost like she can see the gears turning in his head. he's sitting there going, "if i can't handle one little autopsy, how can i do this job?", thinking he's made a big mistake by transitioning from lab rat to field mouse.

sensing that he needs reassurance, she takes two tacks: one is to be light and playful with him to cheer him up, and the other is to be honest about her own experience as a rookie so that he knows he's not the only person to have ever been thrown off his game by an autopsy.

when she admits to him that she puked at her first post, it helps him to realize that a) there's no shame in him having the reaction he's having (particularly as she is one of the toughest people he knows and has never been squeamish for as long as they've been acquainted), and, b) if she can bounce back from that kind of "performance" and go on to have a long, successful career in criminalistics, so can he.

that's why he sounds heartened when he notes that, unlike her, he didn't puke.

and that's why she tells him, "way to go, tough guy"

—because he's got what it takes.

he just needs to believe in himself.

that said, even with his concerns about his own fitness to be a csi assuaged, greg is still kind of wigged out just on an existential level about death itself—hence his comments about the emptiness of the body.

so at that point, sara drops some real knowledge on him, telling him that though death is inevitable, what really matters is what one does with their life before they die.

she wants to remind greg that he has a choice: he has aptitudes and knowledge and skills which give him the propensity to be an excellent criminalist. so how is he going to use them? what is he going to do? how is he going to help people?

he has a chance to do something meaningful.

and isn't that what he wants for himself? isn't that why he decided to get out of the lab to begin with?

so that's the thought she leaves him with.

and, ultimately, it does help.

greg does feel better after talking to her—about himself, about the job, and about being one of the living who speaks for the dead.

honestly, i love this scene because it is such a good illustration of sara and greg's friendship dynamic and because sara is such an excellent mentor/trainer here. she says the exact right thing to help greg remember why he wanted to switch to field forensics in the first place.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #** #my meta #meta: csi #meta: sara #meta: greg #brotp: i came here for you #let's talk shop #05x02 #csiverse

[abla-soso]

I'm sending you this ask because I saw this post and I think this might be a case of a cultural misunderstanding? The entire conversation was very disconnected; almost nobody understood what the other was attempting to say.

I think witchesofcolor did assume about mimiwrites2000 originally but they did correct themselves pretty quickly.

They warned mimiwrites2000 about the language they were using and then explained it to them. In the U.S. if someone saying says something incredibly offensive (part of the statement they made most certainly was) then it's considered good manners to correct them immediately (particularly foreigners) so that they don't accidentally offend others. However this might be offensive in wherever you're from.

I also don't particularly believe you're anti-black either.

But, your overall behavior was (by western standards) super aggressive and you've mistaken some things as well.

When referring to AAVE that is not a 'Westerners' issue. AAVE is a specific dialect native to only Black Americans. It's words have become quite popular on the internet but they're often used improperly (as you mentioned); however because Black Americans still use the words as they were meant to be this leads to confusion and irritation (particularly the latter for Black Americans). Both you and mimiwrites2000 use it quite a bit so be there might be more confusions in the future.

Throughout the post no one called mimiwrites2000 a racist or anti-black; they said the language used was. The action was anti-black; no one said anything about the person. There's a big difference.

It was said/implied that both witchesofcolor and visibilityofcolor attacked mimiwrites2000 which again isn't accurate. To attack is imply they were purposely malicious; which they weren't. In reality, they were relatively polite. That of course doesn't mean that mimiwrites2000 didn't feel hurt; but they weren't attacked.

Honestly, you sounded really dismissive? It almost seemed like you didn't care that something offensive was said? You appeared more offended that someone corrected mimiwrites2000 and you then that something harmful was said? Like, as long as you're suffering in Palestine damned be anything else; even if it's hurtful to other marginalized communities.

Also, you claimed that you were being tone policed but you really weren't. Tone policing is when someone refuses to help/support a movement because they didn't like your tone (or attitude/words/etc.). While your tone wasn't liked; all involved still support Palestine regardless.

Overall, everybody made accusations and assumptions.

I believe neither you nor mimiwrites2000 are native English speakers (or from a western country) and language is really tricky (especially English!) so certain things are maybe lost or aren't understood but it's lost on me how you are so confident you've said or done absolutely nothing wrong. Especially since most of that entire post is in regards to something most non-Americans (including those from western countries) would have a lot of trouble understanding.

Anon, I appreciate your compassionate effort to fix this mess, but I’m really over it, and I highly doubt we can see eye to eye on this. 

It’s not just a language barrier, there is definitely a huge difference in culture clues/values. 

What I found incredibly offensive in my culture (ignoring a grieving person’s cry for help and focusing on how their wording offends me) doesn’t seem to be a big deal to you. Where I'm from, if a person is in desperate need of help, you don’t get to make it about yourself instead. Even if that person deliberately insults you, you listen and help them first and then deal with the insult. And it’s more outrageously rude when that person who was asking for your help was obviously clueless and never meant to offend but you still prioritized your hurt feelings anyway. 

You can’t imagine the level of shame and humiliation a person from an Arab culture feels when a person ignores their cry for help and tries to nitpick the words they used to ask for help, especially if they were subjugated to constant silencing and dismissive attitude before (and mimiwrites2000's private messages to me expressed how terrible she felt). 

That’s why I was angry and aggressive. 

And I’m not gonna apologize for it. 

Because while I listened and honored those guy's wishes and vowed to never again use that word that they found offensive (because I was NOT dismissive of their complaint itself), they - on the other hand - never listened. 

They demanded that a grieving victim who was crying for help be held accountable for an innocent mistake she made, but they completely absolved themselves of their own gross western-centric bias. 

They choose to call me all kinds of nasty names over and over and bombarded me with really vile, hateful messages for days.  

So sorry, but I don’t owe them shit.

But I will answer the rest of your points:

I had no idea what AAVE is, and neither did mimiwrites2000. Assuming we should have known anyway is a classic example of western-centric bias.

Even if mimiwrites2000 wasn’t directly accused of racism, the mere fact that her cries for help were ignored and she was forced to defend herself - because of an unintended offense that was caused by nothing but innocent cluelessness - was outrageous enough to me as an Arab. That post was about uplifting Palestinian voices - who were actively silenced right now - and allowing them to express their outrage and grief freely, regardless of how westerners feel about it. It was NOT the time or place to nitpick and police Palestinians voices. If someone was offended by a Palestinian’s choice of words; they should have approached them privately and respectfully, but not in my fucking post.

Mimiwrites2000 felt hurt because she felt ignored AND attacked. You don’t get to decide that for her. I already explained why an Arab victim would feel greatly humiliated in this situation, so I won’t repeat myself. 

Excuse me, but I’m too busy caring about my people being killed and colonized. I don’t have enough emotional energy to ignore my own deep pain and grief and focus on catering to other’s hurt feelings (which were caused by an unintended mistake and nothing else). We’re already deeply suffering and utterly emotionally exhausted, so have some freaking empathy and don’t demand that we should prioritize your feelings. And the most fucked up thig is: even AFTER I swallowed my own deep grief and pain and catered to their feelings; I was still called a racist bigot who didn’t really care about my own people’s suffering!!! I truly can not fathom this disgusting level of entitlement and lack of empathy.

Tone policing has many examples and it’s not limited to the one you mentioned. Also; claiming to “support” Palestine doesn’t mean shit when you nitpick and derail posts made by Palestinians and prioritize your own feelings over theirs. Don’t police, derail, or silence Palestinian voices. If you find something offensive; you can speak up, but keep the discussion in the DMs.  

#Anonymous