#Cafe Latte and Broken Dreams Au

[yeahthatwouldbedark]

Yen per second

tropes: death trope, friends to lovers, rivals to lovers, bully romance bestie, college au, friends with benefits I guess, Oikawa and reader have known each other since childhood.

trigger warnings (for the entire series): child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, bullying, depression, child neglect, terminal illness at some point, broken home, mental breakdowns, panic attacks, anxiety, death, injuries (Oikawa’s bad knee for example), substance abuse.

Chapter 7

11k words

January 17th

It’s such a cold day that it’s a wonder there are humans around with their limbs still functioning. A week has passed since the people of Tokyo last saw a sunray spear through the grey clouds. You could argue that at least there is snow pelted on the earth, a child’s dream come true, but even that isn’t enough to rid people of the desire to rush inside cafes where the promise of warmth and a cup of coffee is sure to be kept.

That’s the good thing about days like this. Tables are occupied which means more money for the cafes. There’s also the part about not being able to hear yourself think or your partner talk seeing as there is not a table at which a conversation isn’t being had. The world is alive with whispers, laughter, sighs, shoes clacking, fingers tapping, and the aroma of coffee.

It's been 17 days since they struck the deal. A week ago, Tooru helped her move into her apartment in the same building where Rin lives. Every day, he waits for her at the University’s front gate and when they’re both finished with work and volleyball training, he accompanies her back to her apartment. It takes some time to get used to him getting her hot cocoa with extra sugar (and a caramel mocha latte for himself) or him helping calm her nerves when she’s thrust into a discussion during class by rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

It’s honestly nerve-wracking. Almost overwhelming. Once or twice, she’s had to flee from him and to the nearest restroom. When she returns, he’s always there, waiting for her with a smile. She always feels anxious, entranced, and flustered when she sees him smile. It’s frustrating.

Yet, here they sit at a café after he suggested she change her study setting once in a while.

“So,” Tooru begins, eyes roving over Y/n’s face, which is presently buried in her ‘Social Psychology’ textbook, “There’s this gathering with volleyball players that I’ve been invited to.”

Her gaze barely flits upward before it’s back on the page, “That’s nice. Which teams are attending?”

Encouraged by her polite interest in the topic, Tooru smiles and puts the book aside, ready to enumerate.

“EJP Raijin. MSBY Black Jackals. Tachibana Red Falcons.” He counts on his fingers, “A bunch of other teams. And us, of course, The Tokyo Black Jaguars.”

He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, in hopes that it will steel his resolve against the debilitating fear of rejection.

“And I was hoping you’d come with me.” He pops the proposal.

This time, Y/n’s eyes are alight with something akin to surprise and confusion. Hesitation is apparent in the way her fingers toy with the corner of the page she was reading prior to looking up.

She looks away and supports her head on her left palm. “I don’t think I should.”

Tooru’s face falls. Before he can wallow in self-pity, he takes the time to study her expression, concealed behind a curtain of dark hair though it may be. She’s not as focused as she was before he brought up the topic of the gathering. Unable to concentrate, her eyes flit from the top of the page to the bottom and her face now sports a barely perceptible frown. She’s frustrated at herself for not managing to get it together.

“If this is about you being scared that I’ll do something,” Tooru assures, absentmindedly tracing the curve of the cup’s handle. “I promise I won’t.”

“It’s not about that,” Y/n says at once. Realizing the speed at which she delivered the response, she looks up, almost startled. Looking anywhere but at him, she elaborates a little further, “Rin is in EJP Raijin. And he’s mad at me.”

Tooru’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Suna? Mad at you? I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, I managed to piss him off.” She shrugs and brings her cup to her lips. “As is my habit.”

Tooru wants, more than anything at this moment, to help her understand that nothing about her warrants mistreatment. When he looks back on how things used to be, he can’t think of a single moment at which his personal issues didn’t distort his perception of her. For years, his image of her had been painfully unfair. For years, his fractured perception of himself had gotten in the way of them being there for each other.

He makes an effort to smile. “There’s another reason, isn’t there?”

Y/n can tell there’s some cream on her lips as she puts down her cup. It makes heat rise to her cheeks as she licks it off. Normally, she’d be glad of the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that she doesn’t want to be ‘gross’ in his eyes. Not when they’re trying to be friends for the first time.

“Are you sure you want to go with me?” She tries to ask without betraying a hint of nervousness.

“I’ve been rehearsing how to ask you since I received the invitation.” His lips spread in a grin. “So, yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“And you won’t be ashamed to have me by your side?”

“Honestly,” Tooru croons, leaning forward on his elbows, “I’d be upset if you weren’t there.”  

For the first time since they met again, she feels like laughing. Truly laughing. It sounds downright absurd to hear him say that her absence would spoil his mood. All she allows herself is a small, close-lipped smile.

“Is there a dress code? Or theme?”

“Yes, it’s formal.” He affirms, nodding, “And I’d love to help you assemble your outfit.”

She doesn’t take him seriously. “Okay, Oikawa.”

Without him realizing it, Tooru’s lips morph into a pout.

“Ugh,” He groans, “When are you gonna get used to being on a first-name basis with me?”

“Sorry, force of habit.” She answers honestly. “So, when’s the gathering?”

At that, Tooru perks up like a toddler being told that the most recent Barbie doll is now available at the nearest store. Hope is alight within him.

“This Saturday at 6 PM.” He says, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30 since it’s almost a 40-minute drive to the destination.”

“You wanna be fashionably late so bad.” Y/n rolls her eyes.

Placing a hand on his chest, he acts offended, “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Are you not embarrassed?”

Tooru pretends to inspect his nails.

“I’ve done worse things.” He says nonchalantly.

“Yeah, you once forgot to delete the porn from your flash drive-

He snaps up his head and raises an eyebrow. “That presentation was iconic I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you started panicking after accidentally clicking on it.”

“It was adorable.”

“You literally had mating press in there.”

Tooru’s brain stops working for a second. “I thought nobody caught on.”

“Well, they didn’t because they were slow readers.” She says, tugging down the sleeves of the sweater under her desert brown coat. “Their English was awful. And you did some damage control pretty quickly.”

He shuts his eyes and an air of unfathomable flamboyance possesses him as he rubs at his temple in feigned agony.

“God, I was so iconic for that.” He recalls fondly.

Again, Y/n has to make a significant effort to suppress the mirth that fights to escape her chest. Maybe she should let loose, feel the laughter vibrate within and all around her. She only laughs when she’s drunk, and the memory is something her mind spurns. Her joy likes to collect dust, that of home, classrooms, parties, gatherings, and so on. It hoards the dust, concealing itself in its particles. It would take a typhoon to blow away the dirt.

Across from her, Tooru’s watchful gaze roams every part of her it can reach. Her complexion has always been pallid, bordering on sickly, but sometimes it takes on the rosy hues of cherry blossoms. On certain occasions, when he wasn’t being utterly vicious toward her or when Mattsun would wrap his volleyball blazer around her shoulders, her cheeks would bloom.

Her hair, far from ashen, stood in stark contrast with the majority of her features. It was a dark shade of brown and straight while her lips were pink and heart-shaped. Her cheeks, unlike her body, still carried some of the plumpness of childhood, with some semblance of a jawline to provide some polarity. She reminded him of the liminal space between winter and spring.

Y/n catches him staring, the corner of his lips angled upwards and his head tilted.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing,” He answers, “Was just wondering what color would look gorgeous on you.”

When he doesn’t elaborate immediately, she shoots him an expectant look, “Well, which one is it?”

“Hmmm, black for sure. Emerald and forest green. Sapphire or midnight blue.” He pauses, picturing her in the entire spectrum. “Red. Maroon, garnet, and wine red specifically.”

“Well… damn.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You disagree?”

“No, I just don’t have dresses in those colors.” She confesses, scratching the lip of the table. “My formal outfits are more on the preppy, academic style. I just never imagined I’d get to attend any formal gatherings so I didn’t bother with the dresses.”

Tooru wants to point out the ridiculousness of it all. Being the best student in their year means that she’s bound to receive offers and be invited to gatherings in the near future. But maybe that’s it. Maybe she believes that, just like in high school, her achievements will be downplayed in favor of someone else’s charisma, popularity, or wealth. That she will only be given crumbs of the recognition she deserves.

Not under Tooru’s watch.

He grins so stupidly that he can sense the wariness in her posture.

“You know what this means?” He asks, leaning forward once again.

“What?”

“Guess.”

“Why are you so excited all of a sudden?”

His leg won’t stop bouncing in anticipation. “C’mon guess!”

“Jesus, Tooru I don’t know.” Y/n sighs, exasperated.  

“I,” He declares, threading the fingers of her left hand, which have been chipping away at the edge of the table for the past few minutes, with those of his right one. “Get to take you shopping. And no, you may not refuse this offer. Thus, it has been decreed by moi that we shall promenade about the mall on Friday.”

She’s so startled by the boldness of his proposal slash decision that she can only stare in shock. Tooru has offered to take her shopping or eat out before⸺ the day after Chiharu and she brought him up to their apartment, drunk off his ass, the festivals during which his mom would entreat him to keep her company, and only once before… when he got his pride so severely wounded by a girl that he just had to show her what she was missing.

In retrospect, these moments were somewhat nostalgic, and bittersweet, with heartache and lessons built into them like steel in the foundations of a building. She couldn’t just shake off every past experience, as uncomfortable as it made her to relive them in her flesh. She couldn’t be rid of the thought that, if she took him up on the offer, she would essentially be indebted to him. This changed everything.

“Any thoughts you’re having about paying me back,” he says softly. His brown eyes are warm and inviting. “Silence them.”

She nods silently and flips open the book. Their fingers remain threaded.

The popsicle all but melts down to the heel of Tooru’s palm as he stands with his back to the open window in his bedroom. It’s the peak of summer heat and there is little to no wind to ruffle the curtains, which makes any activity a pain in the ass. That’s why the four of them are here; gathered in his room instead of sweating the hours away. Iwa, Maki, and Mattsun are seated on the floor where it is cool, the fan not far to Maki’s left. They’d be afraid of catching a cold if it weren’t for their hatred of the heat, a sentiment shared by Tooru. There’s only one annoying, prickly problem.

“Where does she even go every summer break?” He voices out the question that has been gnawing at him for the past two weeks.

Maki looks up at him. “Y/n?”

The mere mention of her name has him cringing.

“The fuck you talking about?” Says Iwaizumi, throwing down two cards, the sight of which makes Maki groan. “You know she goes to her aunt’s house in Tokyo.”

Tooru frowns briefly before it turns into a teasing smirk. “How come you know so much about her, Iwa?”

“Just because you don’t want her around,” Iwaizumi states, “Doesn’t mean others don’t either.”

That makes him want to roll his eyes, but his eyes seem dead set on staring at the floor. Suddenly, the creamy tiles are the most interesting thing that ever existed. Maybe if he stares at it long enough, he’ll think about something other than the fact that the room sharing a wall with his has been empty for exactly 14 days. That’s a hard ‘maybe’, as I well know.

“Woohoo,” Whistles Maki, his grin a stark contrast to the frustrated groan from before. “Our Tooru misses Y/n? Look at him frowning.”

Mattsun follows up with, “Oop, he’s glaring now. So scary.” 

“Motherfcuker probably just misses making fun of her.” Iwaizumi joins in, focusing on the cards for the most part. “Your turn.”

What Maki says next as he plucks two cards from his spread stuns Tooru. It sews his mouth shut, barbed wire woven into his lips, and the words tug on it like enraged prisoners within a cell.

“To be honest some of the things he does could be considered criminal offenses.”

Fingers curling under the windowsill, he fights to select the right words. And fails.

“Like I’ve done anything serious.” Tooru mumbles, “You guys are mean.”

It’s quiet for exactly 37 seconds, with the exception of the fan working its magic and the boy’s muttering, before Iwaizumi decides to bring up the topic of her again, much to his Captain’s chagrin.

“She has a boyfriend last I heard.” He says ever so nonchalantly.

But Tooru has never, and I mean never, wanted to pummel Iwaizumi into the dirt as much as he does at this very moment. He wants to grab Iwaizumi by the hair and drag him down the stairs and then across the concrete until he’s nothing but a pathetic version of his handsome self. Because, no matter how much he tries to convince himself that the words just spoken are but a figment of his imagination, the incredulous looks on Maki’s and Mattsun’s faces force him to confront this disillusioning reality.

“What?!” the two boys bark out in unison.

“Why the surprised faces, you bastards? She’s a cute girl and extremely smart.” Iwaizumi says, frowning, “Never met anyone so intelligent before if I’m being honest.”

Maki nods, sighing. “Whenever she speaks, I feel so fucking dumb. Still like hearing her talk though.”

“Yeah,” Mattsun says, almost as if he’s daydreaming as he abandons his spread to lie down on the floor. “She has really pretty lips.”

“Which lips?” Snickers Maki.

Mattsun side-eyes him and Iwaizumi kicks him in the shin.

“Don’t be a pervert man.” He chides. “She’s our friend.”

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it,” Maki grumbles, rubbing the sore spot. “Who even is this guy, anyway? Did she tell you?”

“Beats me.” Iwaizumi shrugs. “I just complained about being stressed out and she started talking about aesthetics and psychology and how she and this guy send each other moodboards. Making them helps them to relax apparently. Sharing them is good too because you get to talk to the other person about the meanings.” Tooru can almost feel his best friend’s gaze on him as he continues, “Didn’t mention the guy’s name though.”

If she had told him, would his best friend tell him anything or would he keep it a secret in fear of Tooru jeopardizing the one good thing that’s happened to her in a long while? Was that why she hadn’t told him the guy’s name? So that Tooru would have no way of knowing? Why did he want to know? Why was there this gnawing need to know everything about her, this urge that only serves to reduce his conscience to nothing? He doesn’t feel in control. It’s all hurtling down a downward slope at full speed.

“He could be just a friend.” Mattsun points out.

Iwaizumi doesn’t appreciate it in the least when people simply assume the worst of Y/n. To him, from the moment they met on the playground as kids, she’s been the sweetest; quiet but assertive when it counted and willing to help if help was sought. Her appearance is naturally fragile, delicate, and sometimes unhealthy looking to the point where he has to watch her eat in order to be able to sleep at night.

Then there’s always her quiet admiration of Tooru and his blatant disregard for her feelings. Voice full of mockery. His touch always a tad too rough. His obsessive need to be near her followed by his repulsion at the proximity. The constant verbal harassment (and sometimes physical) that those mindless sheep at school put her through just because his best friend decided years ago that she would be the recipient of his pain.

It’s about time she met someone who would cling to her words and be in awe of her. It’s about time Tooru stopped being the undeserving recipient of what she wanted to give.

“Why is it so fucking hard for you fuckers to believe that someone could like her.” He grits out.

“Not that. It’s just…” Mattsun shoots a meaningful glance at Tooru, which the boy doesn’t catch as he’s far too preoccupied with the way the underside of the sill feels against his fingertips. “You know.”

Tooru, who has tuned out everything after learning that Iwaizumi doesn’t know the guy’s name, feels anger bubble in his chest. A frothing, mordant thing.

“That’s nonsense.” He bites out.

The three boys regard him with expressions that vary just the slightest from one another. Iwaizumi’s frown of displeasure says enough about how he feels about Tooru’s unsolicited input, despite the conversation taking place in his bedroom. Maki remains unfazed, having gotten used to his Captain’s antics whenever Y/n was concerned. As for Mattsun, he looked equally curious and confused.

“No one could ever like her.” Tooru’s throat feels tight yet his voice comes out as grave. “She’s odd and short and weak and a social reject.”

Nails scraping under the sill, he resumes his tirade.

“She’s so fucking annoying with her silence and even more annoying with her rambling. She’s so fucking useless and worthless but thinks she’s above everyone else.” His gaze bores holes into the floor. “I wish she would just leave once and for all. Maybe I’d find peace.”

A few seconds later, Maki scoffs, “No, you wouldn’t.”

Tooru can’t stand to look him in the eye but resolves that he must if he is to show that he’s convinced of the things he’s just spouted. The game is over, having long been abandoned in favor of the latest gossip.

“She’s not even here, and look at you.” Iwaizumi gestures to him, eyes roving all over Tooru’s body, “All worked up. Spouting hatred for her. Acting like a little bitch desperate for attention.”

It takes everything in him not to stomp his foot like a toddler at a convenience store who has just been denied his favorite candy.

“You guys,” He cries out, internally begging them to see where he’s coming from, even if Tooru himself doesn’t, “She’s the one who wants to take everything away from me! She’s the one who’s desperate. She-  

“Look man,” Mattsun says, supporting his weight on his elbows, “You may have convinced the rest to be assholes to her. And we may not be able to stop them all. But don’t try to do the same with us.”

It’s true. It’s wasted effort to try and make them see her through the same distortive lenses that settle over his eyes when in her presence. They will never understand the feeling of perceiving every little thing she does as an attack on his pride. Every smile is an attempt to steal something that rightfully belongs to him. Every word is her trying to worm her way into his life, coating every thought with her essence, and threading her presence in the little things that were his alone until his heart rate accelerates.

He’s always trying to accomplish things at a faster rate when it comes to running from or toward her, appearing godly or hellish when he knows her eyes are set on him. He’s never at peace. He’s not sure he knows what that is.

“Whatever.” He says evenly and crashes on his bed.

Not a minute later, Mattsun whispers, “What does he have against short girls?”

“Not against.” Maki snorts. “Just ‘in’.”

Tooru hurls a pillow at his head.

“Y/n-chan!”

Ayame’s voice can be startling thing sometimes. Like finding an open bag of candy on the countertop; surprising but welcome.

“You sound happy.” Said Y/n with a smile, hoping it didn’t show in her speech.

She could hear rustling on the other end. Probably Haru rummaging through plastic bags.

Ayame got straight to the point, as she always did whenever overcome with excitement.

“Haru-chan said I can help with the organization of the exhibition.”

“Really?” Y/n wished Ayame’s enthusiasm would rub off on her. She wished she could let it happen. “That’s good. We’ll have to set like a time for our meetings.” Tapping the pencil on the open notebook, she looked at the calendar on the computer. “Is Wednesday and Thursday fine with you? I know you’d rather go out with Kuroo on the weekends than do this.”

She could practically see Ayame do that pronounced shake of her head.

“That’s fine.” The girl said. “Should we do it at your place or ours?”

“Mine is fine. You can spend the night here when we’re done.”

For a moment, Y/n thinks the line has gone dead or that Ayame has hung up after relaying the message. But if that is so, why can she still pick up on the girl’s breathing? The sniffle that trickles through the device; how can emotions pass through something that had died?

“Y/n-chan.” Ayame speaks her name, and it startles her.

Y/n hums, the pencil going still. “Hmm.”

And with that, comes the deluge… the apology.

“I’m sorry.” Her friend says, and for a moment Y/n cannot put her finger on what the apology refers to or tell if it is true. Still, the girl on the other end continues. “I’m sorry for what I said that night. I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t. I was angry but I didn’t mean it.”

It is a deluge. Y/n does not know which of them is drowning. But she can picture Ayame, right there, crying as she poured her heart out. She can see herself, submerged, with only the following words bubbling up to the surface.

“It’s okay.” She sounds firm, even, all the things she’s been forced to realize that she’s not.

More sniffling on the other end, and then a feeble, “Really?”

“Really.” But is it the truth of what she feels? Y/n isn’t ready to face that, to feel it, and the pencil grows heavier between her fingers. “I forgot to mention. We can’t meet up tomorrow. I’m… attending this event with Oikawa so I won’t be home until midnight. If not later.”

That’s when Chiharu gets closer, so close even, that the phone call is sticky with the sound of her chewing. “Wait. Tooru invited you?”

Y/n nods and little stars begin to take shape on the margins of her notebook. “Yeah, today.”

More chewing. “You guys are basically buddies now, huh.”

“We’re taking the same classes and presented a project together.” She pretends that it’s nothing, that speaking of him isn’t like dragging a heavy suitcase while all she can hear is the screeching of its broken, missing heels. “Also, he’s your cousin and hangs out with us on the regular. More often than I do, that’s for sure.”

“That’s because you won’t get your nose out of those fucking books for one second!”

Meeting her barking tit for tat, Y/n mutters, “And I’ll keep doing just that.”

“Please, Y/n we need love!” Here come Haru’s theatrics, making her smile. “Why are you starving us?”

“Kuroo copycat.” Her wrist keeps moving and the stars come alive with color.

The chewing stops. “I’m going to block you.”

Y/n shrugs even though they can’t see her. “Wouldn’t you hate that more than me?”

“Oh, fuck you!” The girl on the other end cusses out, laughing and choking at the same time. “You’re right.”

January 19th

Tooru is thinking of her while the fury of winter bangs against his bedroom windows, howling for entry. He is thinking of her pulling down the sleeves of her sweater, the expanse of her neck hidden under that thick blue scarf, the supple flesh of her palms, and the purple hue that took over as his gaze traveled up to her fingertips. He is thinking of the stealthy yet sincere smiles, their existence further dimmed by the shade of a tree, the haze of a rainstorm, or the brightness of a summer day.

Tooru is in his sleepwear, a pitcher of water and bottle of pills on the nightstand to soothe the migraine that overran his wish to stay up until late just an hour after the two of them parted ways. Tooru is just about to swallow another when he hears the notification sound. The number is not one he recognizes, and he would have blocked the person on the other side if it weren’t for that very first message.

Unknown number: Tooru-nii

It has him getting into a sitting position with such haste that the phone almost slips from his shaky hold.

His little half-sister, Shigeko, already has his number and she messages him whenever she wants or can. Tooru’s responses are far and few between but… he’s playing his part. The point is that her number has long since been added to his contacts. There is only one other person who refers to him as an older brother.

Unknown number: It’s me, Isaac.

Heartbeats grind to a halt.

Unknown number: How are you?

Each text sends another shot of anxiety coursing through his veins. It is worse than the spike of adrenaline he gets when he feels that he might not be able to reach the ball, yet still reaches for it in some way or another. Right now, he doesn’t fight or flee. Tooru is frozen on the spot.

Still, swallowing the jagged stone of fear, he manages to type the following.

You: Hey, buddy! I’m good :D. How are you?

You: What have you been up to lately?

Not even five seconds later, he receives a response from the boy.

Unknown number: Tooru-nii!!!

Unknown number: It really is you! I wasn’t sure if I got the right number!

Tooru can almost hear Isaac vibrating with excitement. Or perhaps… it is a sigh of relief.

Unknown number: Nothing :) (replying to “What have you been up to lately?”)

Unknown number: I’m studying for exams so I’m really tired

Before Tooru can attempt to ask him about his social life, maybe about a girlfriend if he has one, or how his parents are faring, the boy says the one thing he was hoping he wouldn’t.

Unknown number: but I really need to ask you something

Despite knowing where it will inevitably lead, Tooru tries to act normal. He can barely get his hands to stop shaking before he types in the one-word response.

You: Shoot!

Hours later, he will think about what he could have done to derail the conversation. He will drink himself until he is but a heap of muscle and bone and his sheets are damp with his snot, sweat, and tears. But now he can only sit here, feeling the vibrations of his phone as the texts surge in.

One after another. Desperate. Pleading. Oikawa is not ignorant of the trickle of shame within him.

Unknown number: do you know where nee-chan is?

Unknown number: no one knows

Unknown number: no one

Unknown number: she just left

Unknown number: and she didn’t say goodbye

Unknown number: I didn’t say goodbye

Unknown number: but no one talks about her. It’s like no one cares and I can’t do anything

Unknown number: I just thought maybe you did

Tooru can feel his eyes warm up. The sting of tears is an all-too-familiar sensation by now, as is the clogging of his throat.

I just thought maybe you did. Tooru doesn’t have the time to ponder why that is. His hands are trembling and he’s holding the wrist of his right hand in place as he types so it won’t slip from his sweaty grip. It still does. The device remains on the bed for a moment, and Tooru stares down at it, chest heaving.

Then he plucks up the nerve to type a response that is both truthful and… disappointing.

You: Isaac

You: I know where she is

He considers divulging the details of her address, putting the young boy out of his misery, but then he tries to remember the last time she spoke of her family- truly spoke that is. Since their reunion, rare have been the occurrences when she’d let some childhood memory involving her family slip past her lips. Even then, it was mostly hushed, unintelligible, broken phrases, chopped bits she bit into and chewed; a process of regurgitation. He wonders if her tongue aches, if the words wear away at her throat.

She will perceive Tooru informing Isaac of her whereabouts as a confirmation that he hasn’t changed, that he is still that boy who would humiliate her or sit back and watch as others picked up his slack.

You: but I can’t tell you, buddy

He hesitates before typing a second message.

You: she doesn’t want to see anyone from back home

The message is clear, concise. It doesn’t divulge her whereabouts, only her boundaries. Tooru cannot imagine it stings any less.

Unknown number: Tooru-nii

Unknown number: nee-chan is in Tokyo?

Panic grips him by the throat. He can only let out a choked sound as he scrambles to kneel on the bed. Was it something he said? Did he overlook some small yet significant detail in his message?

One shaking hand holds up his phone as he types frantically. The other clutches the blanket for dear life.

You: Isaac please don’t look for her

He waits. He waits for the “typing” to cease and for a message to appear, conveying the boys understanding of the situation. Minutes pass, and Tooru waits.

When it becomes clear that his plea will receive no response, he sinks his teeth into his trembling lower lip, biting down until he tastes blood. The phone makes no sound as it slips his loose grip and the hand, now empty, finds purchase in the blankets alongside the other. He heaves and chokes as curses slip through his parted lips.

Suddenly, his every need, objective, urge, and base instinct converge to set a scene before him. He sees himself in this play. In this wretched, foul play. To become one with it, Tooru runs out of the bedroom and into the moonlit expanse of the living room and opens the first bottle he can find. The glass is cold. On its way down, the liquor does not burn.

Rin is on his second joint, eyes fixated on the movie playing on the TV⸺ the story of a young man and woman who are obviously in love and clearly never meant to be seeing how he never even invited her to prom⸺ when Atsumu turns to him and gives him the same look as the night he stormed home with a storm in his eyes (as he’d called it) and slammed his bedroom door with such force the hinges rattled in the otherwise silent apartment.

“You look down.”

Rin answered with the same old, “It’s nothing.”

Atsumu has let him be for the past few weeks. Whenever he asks, Rin answers to the worst of his abilities, and so he drops the subject. Not tonight, apparently.

“Why don’t you talk to me, bro?” His friend asks, and Rin feels him shift on the sofa.

He can feel those brown eyes of his pinned to his profile, brows scrunched in worry. It is a tentative kind of worry, the kind that has you feeling guilty for being unforthcoming and vague in your responses even if it’s not to burden the same person who worries for you.

Rin does not move to face.

“New Year’s Eve.” He releases a puff of smoke. “Y/n and I kissed. And then something happened so I left.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Atsumu’s eyes widening. Maybe he’s excited for Rin but knows better than to show it considering the kiss… apparently didn’t lead to a happy ending.

“What happened exactly?” His friend asks instead.

Rin shrugs and for a moment he wants to drop the blunt on his lap and watch the tip burn into the fabric.

“One thing led to another and it ended up with my tongue in her mouth, touching her while she described how I flirt with the people I end up fucking.” His throat constricts a little at the end. “She said that I don’t disappear with her the way that I do with them because I don’t see her that way.”

To his credit, Atsumu doesn’t speak. He lets silence and all that preceded it settle like dust on furniture. Rin rubs his finger on the arm of the sofa, picking at the fabric.

“I’m sorry man.” His friend says, uncharacteristically hesitant. “She probably-  

“Why does she always feel the need to dictate how others feel about her?” It comes out of him unbidden. The words had fermented in his saliva for weeks and now they were good enough to spit out. “Why does she always assume she’s forgotten?”

Rin sort of hopes Atsumu can’t see the way he has to swallow before picking up where he left off. He hopes the dim, grey glow of the screen isn’t enough to strip him naked.

“It upset me so I left and when I went back looking for her… she wasn’t there.” Another couple in the bed where he’d kissed her and the sweet scent that lingered faintly on the silken bedsheets; apparated before his eyes with every word. “She wasn’t at the party at all.”

Atsumu looks at the TV, but Rin knows it’s him he’s watching, not the girl… Marianne is her name.

“So, you think she’s mad?”

“Maybe.” Answers Rin. The blunt in his hand gets smaller by the second. “Not sure about ‘mad’. But she’s confused and upset for sure.” Maybe guilty, he thought. “And I don’t know how to approach her without sounding like a douche.”

“Well, fuck.” “I mean my girl and I; we argue sometimes. It’s mostly my fault cuz I can get really annoying-

“Color me surprised.”

“I’m trying to be cool and supportive here!” That provokes a chuckle out of Rin which, in turn, makes Atsumu smile. “You know I’ve always been a player. I always thought I wanted someone or something but changed my mind once I got what I wanted. It’s the reason she didn’t really want me in her life at first.” The smile grows and it looks genuine. Rin has only ever seen it when he speaks of his brother or in the showers after a victory. “But I’m trying to be good for her. It’s a nice change of pace.”

Then, Atsumu pats his shoulder in encouragement, giving him a crooked smile as a treat.

“If you’re sorry for leaving, then just apologize.” Rin side-eyes him. Atsumu has never been one for apologies, unless you count the insincere, forced, and petty strings of words that he insists are good enough to express regret. “I’m serious, dude. Even if she doesn’t forgive you, which I doubt, then at least you’ll know she’s no longer wondering what she did wrong.”

That’s the thing, though. Atsumu doesn’t know her as well as Rin does if the latter ever knew her at all. He has counted the stars on his ceiling until they fell asleep, cuddled next to each other, splashed her with seawater, felt her arms around his waist… and she feels no more familiar than a ghost that haunts his dreams.

Still, he sighs out the smoke, stumps the blunt into the tray, and concedes, “Alright. I’ll try.”

“You won’t have to try too hard. She just moved in next door.”

His neck hurts from how fast he snapped it in Atsumu’s direction. For a moment, he is certain a wintry chill has infiltrated their apartment. Rin feels it beneath his clothes.

“Stop shitting me,” Rin bites out in disbelief.

Atsumu must not be feeling the cold because he grunts out. “I’m not shitting you, dude. She lives three doors down.”

January 21st

It’s raining when Tooru comes to pick her up. He’s cladded in a black turtleneck, dark jeans, and a grey coat that reaches a few inches above his ankles. His hair is a bit damp from the few minutes he spent crossing the distance from his car to the entrance of the apartment building. How he was able to find parking in such unforgiving weather, is a miracle, but Y/n isn’t complaining. Neither is her roommate, Livia, who announced his arrival with a shout and barged into her bedroom demanding Y/n spill everything she knew about the scrumptious young man currently sitting on their living room couch. Y/n told her his name, which she’d learned by then, that he was her classmate at the University, and that she was to accompany him to an event tomorrow. Livia had let out a dreamy sigh, grabbed her by the shoulders, and told her to make the night count.

Y/n herself shoves on a black turtleneck, a checkered beige skirt with black tights underneath, black boots, a beige coat, and the midnight blue scarf to top it all off. The last item doesn’t match the rest of the outfit, which she’s well aware of, but it’s so smooth and warm that she can’t bear to part with it.

Tooru greets her with a beaming smile and they head out after bidding Livia goodbye.

“Is there a brand you like?” He asks after turning the key and the engine roars to life. “So that we can narrow down our options.”

Y/n bites her inner cheek, trying to come up with an answer that’s not entirely embarrassing. One glance at him out of the corner of her eye and she can tell he’s waiting for an answer.

“I mean, it’s not like I know much to begin with. I mostly thrift.” She answers truthfully. “But from what I’ve seen on Pinterest… Dior and Chanel, I suppose. The 90’s vibe. And Elie Saab.”

Tooru hums, picturing her in dresses from each brand, then smiles. “Elie Saab it is.”

Then, because an awkward silence has taken over, one that Y/n finds as uncomfortable as a pair of too-tight shoes, she decides to continue the conversation as he rounds the corner that leads out to the main street.

“I know their work from Pinterest,” She says, “But you must have seen it up close and personal.”

Tooru chuckles.

“Well, yes.” He admits, glancing at her only briefly. “For all his absence, my dad has never failed to pay child support for both my older sister and me. So, we’ve always been loaded and spending money left and right.”

Y/n huffs and faces the window. “Rich people behavior.”

“Can’t argue with that.” His laughter fills the car, and it’s suddenly a little warmer. “Growing up, our mom would try to make us see the value in the small things. Like saving up and sharing. And she did succeed with one of us. Sayako-nee grew up to be generous, kind, understanding, and caring. The only person she is nothing like this with is our father, which is understandable.” There’s a pause and Y/n thinks he’s finished talking so she turns to look at him. His grip on the steering wheel, as he stares ahead, could shatter bones. “And I’m me. Always hoarding whatever I’m given, relentless in my greed, with corrosive envy and ravenous pride. Always spending because I know my future is set in stone, for better or for worse.”

Y/n doesn’t know how to respond to that. She’s not sure whether she’s supposed to say anything at all. He looks a little lost like her presence in the seat beside him barely registers in the fog of his mind. If her intuition doesn’t deceive her, Tooru looks torn and indescribably lonely.

The wet strand of hair that he tucked behind his ear when she came out of her bedroom has dried and taken the shape of a wave. She’d always wanted to ask him if that was his natural hair pattern. Had never dared to. Well, now she knew the answer.

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence even though Tooru knows he could fill it with small talk or his usual teasing, but the energy for that is nowhere to be found. Certainly not within him. He wishes she would strike up a conversation, any conversation, just so he could hear her speak. She has such a whimsical voice after all, like that of an old soul with millennia worth of stories to tell. He wonders how her singing voice would sound. Breathy? Eerie? Remote? Would he ever know?

But after 30 minutes of driving and an additional 10 minutes of trying to find a parking spot in this godforsaken weather, Tooru decides he’s had enough of the unyielding silence. No more. 

“We’re here.” He announces, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Unlike him, Y/n remembered to bring an umbrella, which meant that he would be the one holding the black thing above their heads as they practically ran toward the high-end store two blocks south. Her hand is in his, and he has to stop himself from bringing it to his lips so he can kiss each finger. It’s such a silly thing to wish for while they’re trying to get away from the merciless downpour. But he just can’t help it.

Once they walk through the glass doors of the boutique, they can breathe properly without the fear of catching a cold. The employees greet them- greet him, to be exact. Either he is a regular or it’s obvious how much wealthier than her she is. Either way, they’re kind and helpful as they answer his questions and lead them toward the section with the garments that best fit his description.

Y/n is so distracted by the rich fabrics and bewitching designs that she barely catches what Tooru is saying. He’s standing to her right with what appears to be three dresses hanging from his arm.

“Here,” he says, smiling as he takes her by the elbow and toward one of the changing booths. He hands her the dresses. “Try these on, pretty.”

Tooru takes a seat on the couch and beams at her as she slides the curtain of the changing room to cover her from view. To remark that the dresses are beautiful feels like an understatement. They’re so exquisitely tailored that the design almost seems to come alive; the midnight sky, a silky bed of emeralds, and rubies melting against the balls of her feet. They must cost a fortune.

She takes off her clothes and tries on the emerald green dress first. The material slides down her body with ease, and Y/n finds herself wondering how it is that Oikawa knows her size with such accuracy. Could he tell with just one look or had he perhaps asked his cousin, Chiharu? Either way, it clung to her meager curves just right, even adding them where there were none; the exquisitely cinched waist and the puffed chest area.

“So,” She began after sliding the curtain to the side, “What do you think?”

Tooru can only try to swallow his gasp at the sight of her. His first instinct is to abandon the comfort of his seat and rest his hands on the small of her back. But he doesn’t have that privilege, so all he can

“How does the fabric feel? Is it itchy?”

She nods. “A bit.”

“Thought so.” He hums, pensive, and then points behind her to the clothes hanging from the hanger. “Try the midnight blue dress. The velvet one with the spaghetti straps.”

So, she does and the sense of comfort that envelops her is almost instant. The fabric is smooth to the touch, meaning she could rub her palms over the expanse of her thigh in case the nerves got to her. It is enough, she thinks, to have an escape route even if it’s only in the way of zoning out. 

“Should I try another one?” She asks as she stands before him.

With a smile on his lips, Tooru shakes his head and rises to his feet. At his sides, his hands twitch, almost as if they wish to shed their skin.

“What do you think,” He says instead, “About putting an accessory around your waist?”

“Like a necklace you mean?” 

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, some kind of necklace to emphasize your waist.”

Y/n looks down at her feet and just shrugs.

“If you think so.”

Tooru’s hands itch all the more at her response, and before he knows it, the urge to touch her has won over his restraint.

“Now, on to the shoes.” The enthusiasm bleeds through every word as he takes her hands in his. “You’re a size 37, right? European size.”

She lets him lead the way and when the employee asks her which type of footwear she has in mind, she answers, “I don’t usually go for heels because I have horrible coordination so maybe something that will make me look taller that I can comfortably walk in.”

“Certainly, miss.” The employee waves out her arm. “This way, if you please.”

The employee graciously shows them three pairs of heels she thinks may be a good fit. Tooru takes it upon himself to help her put them on after thanking the woman for her service. The first pair, the color of midnight blue studded with crystals, turns out to be a tad uncomfortable given that the heel exceeds 4 inches in height.

“There.” He fixes the clasp of her left heel. “Are they a good fit?”

She nods, walking to and from the glass shelf a few meters from where they’d been sitting. The second pair has turned out differently, it seems. The heels are not above 3 inches and the backs of her feet don’t feel sore after walking in them.

“I like them.” She tells him once she stops in front of him.

She expects that to be the end of their shopping spree. But Tooru is nothing if not a man full of surprises.

“Now, I know you’re probably gonna freak out about this but hear me out.” He rushes the last part once he catches her wary glance. “Jewelry is absolutely fundamental for the look we’re going for, and you already said yes to the one around the waist. So, I think that a pair of earrings would look stunning on you.”

Y/n places the heels on the floor. “You’re overdoing this.”

“What do you mean?”

She looks up to see him tilt his head in confusion.

“You’re spending too much on me.” She clarifies while putting her socks back on. “You shouldn’t.”

He expects him to groan and whine but Tooru catches her off guard by taking a seat next to her and leaning in close.

“But it’s because I want to. I really, really do,” There it is, the whining. “So please let me.”

“Would you give up if I refused?”

He looks down at his hands, biting the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to, though.”

Y/n doesn’t know why but she relents. He tells her that the earrings will be a surprise. Even after she tells him there can be no surprise when he’s already told her, he insists their exquisiteness will take her unawares. He pinky promises to catch her if she should faint at the sight of them.

July

The afternoon boils with chatter, sweltering heat, and the music blasting from Chiharu’s speakers. They’re at Kuroo’s vacation home, the size of which never fails to amaze Y/n. If she weren’t subconsciously reigning in her facial expresions, she’d be gawking, staring at the huge gate, the fountain before the stairs that led to the main door, the walls of the foyers lined with paintings of exorbitant value, the lush garden with it’s bizarrely trimmed bushes, and so much more of what Chiharu likes to call « rich people bullshit ». She says so right to Kuroo’s face too and he responds by headlocking her as the lot of them file into the house.

They’re halfway up the front steps when Y/n feels a hand on her shoulder, peeling off the straps of her sunset orange backpack. She looks up to find Rin staring at her as if to ask for cooperation.

« Let me help you. »

« It’s not that heavy. » She tells him. « I can carry it upstairs. »

His mouth twitches. « You’re can’t afford to lose 10 inches of height. Give it to me and stand up straight. »

« Your posture is worse. »

« Yeah, » He hooks his index under one of the straps. « But my height can afford it. »

Not wanting to seem weird, Y/n chooses to feel like a burden by letting the boy carry it up to her room, which is opposite hers on what is referred to by rich-boy-Kuroo as the western wing. You’d think it was a castle and not just a really big house. A gargantuan house.

Rin sets her backpack on the bed, carefully might I add. He knows how careful Y/n is about her possessions and doesn’t want to upset her.

After that, they take turns taking showers, Rin letting her go before him while Chiharu and Kuroo get into a shouting match about the towels. Kenma flees the scene with a roll of his eyes while Ayame tries and fails to get them to cool off. Rin ushers her into the bathroom before the quarreling duo have the chance to set their sights on her.

The shampoos smell nice, and they even have labels with their names on them No wonder Kuroo pestered them about their hair types before the trip was decided. His efforts have paid off because Y/n has rarely felt so relieved and clean before.

Maybe it had something to do with the environment as well. This is Kuroo’s house. They aren’t blood related. He does not remind her of home but in a way… she feels that this is what it must feel like. This is how children feel when they come home after a long day of classes. How she wishes the year was made of summers and summers only.

They join Kuroo’s parents, who are delighted to have them over for two weeks, for a light lunch. Y/n sits between Rin and Kenma and joins the rest in their laughter with smiles of her own before catching herself in the act and looking down at her reflection in the bowl of clear summer soup. She’s so embarrassed to have smiled and so anxious about anyone having noticed that she internally scrambles to find refuge in something. Anything that isn’t the joy of those at the table.

Rin reaches for the salt shaker and in the process, she catches a wiff of mint shampoo and the pine scent of his perfume. For a split second, she contemplates easing him down so she could brush her nose against his pulse and breathe him in. But then he’s sagging back into his chair and sprinkling salt onto his vegetables, baring his teeth in a grin as Kuroo cracks another joke. Y/n shakes her head lightly and swallows a spoonful of soup.

They spend the afternoon in their respective bedrooms, and Y/n is glad to see that the maids have turned on the air conditioner so that the room isn’t the equivalent of an oven by the time she gets back. Even the blinds are drawn so that the sun may not heat the carpet, bedding, or furniture. The 2-hour nap she gets is pure bliss.

Ayame wakes her up with a knock at her door, announcing that they are to go for a swim at the beach nearby in about 30 minutes. Y/n promises to join them and tries to remove the sleep from her face by spalshing some water on it, applying some cherry lipbalm, and braiding her hair in a loose crown around her head. She throws on a pair of olive green shorts and a white shirt above her two-piece sage green swimsuit, shoves her feet in a pair of white slippers, and then she’s out the door.

Rin throws his arm around her shoulders, says something she can scarcely hear, and keeps her at his side the entire walk. Y/n doesn’t mind. He smells so good after all, like a pine forest by the sea, and the scent reminds her of the green of his eyes.

Only, she feels warm where his knuckles brush against her own. The evening breeze and the seawater cool down every part of her but the spot that tingles.

She’s content with burying her feet in the sand and watching the rest of them play volleyball⸺ Kuroo and Ayame vs Rin and Chiharu⸺ while Kenma assumes the role of the referee at her side. At one point, Chiharu almost goes for Kuroo’s jugular and it’s only by the grace of Rin’s strength that she does not. The bickering idiots soon get distracted by the promise of the meal Mrs. Yukimiya, the housekeeper, had the maids pack for them beforehand. This way they can ravage the sandwiches instead of each other.

It is then that Rin comes to sit to her right, Kenma having left to nibble on a piece of watermelon.

« Wanna go for a swim? » He asks her.

Y/n tilts her head. « Again? »

« Is there a limit? »

So they head in, submerging before rising to the surface once again. He shakes his head before combing back his wet hair with his fingers and swiping that same hand down his face. His eyes settle on her chest.

« I think your top is loose. » Rin tells her, and her arms instinctively shoot up to shield herself. He cracks a small smile. « Turn around. I’ll tie it for you. »

As he does, her cheeks go aflame, as if it were possible to blush any harder.

« Don’t worry. » He utters, loud enough for her to hear him above the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. « I didn’t see anything. »

She sighs and, when she thinks he’s no longer listening, mutters, « Not like there’s much to see anyway. »

« You have nice tits. »

That single sentence stuns her and the coming wave almost sweeps her under. Luckily, Rin’s fingers wrap fiercely around her forearm, steadying her, and Y/n looks up at him through her wet lashes. He’s laughing but it doesn’t make her feel… small. She feels like joining him.

« I should do that more often. »  He says, splashing water over his toned torso. « It’s fun. »

Y/n follows his example, shivering as a particularly cool breeze sweeps over the beach.

« What is ? » She asks.

There’s a twinkle in his piercing green eyes as his hand comes up to cart through her wet hair. « Catching you off guard. »

As if to distract him from her flaming cheeks (the temperatures are not to blame by the way), Y/n splashes him and swims away. He’s hot on her heel, intent on catching up. Not that it takes long until he does. They swim away and toward the shore time and time again until their limbs tire and the only solutions are to either get out or float. So there they remain, backs to the seabed and faces to the darkening sky, until the edge of the horizon has swallowed the final remnants of the sun.

That night, they gorge on watermelons and lemonade. They’re almost bursting with it by the time Kuroo’s parents have turned in for the night, leaving the teenagers to enjoy the song of the crickets in the garden. The temperatures have significantly decreased and a pleasurable chill hangs in the summer night air.

Y/n is on her 5th glass of lemonade. It trickles down her chin. Before she can grab a napkin from the roll at the center of the table, Rin swipes his knuckles across her lips and chin, effectively doing the job. His attention is elsewhere as he licks off the residue. It’s almost as if the gesture is second nature.

The following two weeks can only be defined as bliss. An unprecedented era of peace in Y/n’s life. She’s surrounded by people who don’t hate her, and even seem to tolerate her. The days are filled with the summer heat, the conversations at dinner after Kuroo’s parents have bid them goodnight, smoking weed when no one is looking, lemonade, watermelons, movie marathons, volleyball and shouting matches, card games the rules of which Y/n can barely understand (it embarrasses her greatly), late night swimming in the outdoor pool, and quick trips by bike to the convenience store. Ayame sits behind Chiharu, Kenma behind Kuroo, and Y/n behind Rin.

« You’re gonna stretch out my shirt. » He says jokingly the first time she settles in the back, her fingers curled around the sides of his shirt. « Here, just warp your arms around me, okay. »  

At first, the proximity seems daunting. It isn’t just proximity after all. Her front is flush against his back, and Y/n fears that Rin will sense her heartbeats through the layers of cloth, flimsy as they may be, and find it pathetic that she feels dizzy because of human contact.

But these thoughts are short-lived. With her cheek pressed to his shoulder, arms around his middle, enveloped in the fresh sea-scented air, Kuroo’s and Chiharu’s hooting laughter, and the way Rin turns his head just the slightest to smile at her… there is no more reason to be ashamed of her rapidly beating heart. They are all on the same page.

She still tutors Rin in the gaps of time that they can’t fill with sleep but everyone else can. They sit smack in the middle of the living room with a fan turned on as she explains trigonometry to him, all while they munch on sandwiches and cantaloupes. Lemonade, of course, is not missing from the menu. At one point, while Rin is laboring to solve a problem and she takes a sip of her lemonade, a laugh escapes her that the boy does not fail to notice.

« What is it? » He asks with a smile on his lips. It’s the first time he’s heard her laugh at… seemingly nothing.

Though she stops laughing, a smile still plays on her lips. « The lemonade looks like you. »

« Like me? » Rin raises an eyebrow, twirling his pen. « How can I resemble a drink? »

Y/n sets down her drink, watches the outer walls of the glass sweat. 

« Your eyes. » She clarifies. « When you look at me it feels the same as when I grab a glass of cool lemonade and drink it. »

« You mean to say I am refreshing. » He teases.

She meets his smile with her own. « I do. »

Too lazy to go to their rooms, they fall asleep on the floor, the glasses of lemonade sweating on the table.

On the last night of their vacation, with his parents’ departure having taken place two days prior, Kuroo decides they need to go all out, and by that, he means they should go through his dad’s alcohol stash and steal some. Unsurprisingly, Chiharu fervently agrees, Kenma doesn’t give a shit, Ayame tells them to be careful, while Rin and Y/n take a bite out of the cold cherry pie.

That is not to say that when Kuroo and Chiharu succeed in their endeavor, the rest do not willingly participate in the debauchery. They drain up to six bottles altogether while singing along to the songs in Chiharu’s playlist. In a rare display of agreeableness, Chiharu and Kuroo shout the lyrics with their arms swung around each other’s shoulders while Ayame tries to blink away the coming sleep.

At one point, the rest of them head inside to cause some ruckus, leaving Rin and her to sit by the pool. You can still hear the music playing loud enough to keep Y/n’s neighbors back home awake. But she doesn’t want to think about that place. It’s nice to dip her toes in the cool water, in new experiences.

“Oh,” She lifts her head, looking in the direction of the house when a new song starts playing, « Depeche mode. »

Rin looks at her in silence for a few seconds, then rises to his feet.

« Let’s dance.” He says, hand outstretched.

Y/n takes it, and together they head to the garden, away from their friends’ prying eyes. The grass cushions their steps as they sway in each other’s arms, and the scent of the flowers envelops them in some feeling akin to excitement and tranquility. This moment, drunk on so sweet a scent, feels a little like falling in love.

“You smell nice,” Y/n mutters into his chest.

His hands travel up from her waist, settling between her shoulder blades. “You feel good.”

They cling to each other like sweat on your sweaty skin during the summer heat. It takes a chilly breeze to sever the embrace. Rin’s hands are still where they were before, fingers trailing up and down the ravine between her shoulders as his eyes photograph the sight of her in his arms.

“I bet kissing you would feel like a leap through time.” He says, smiling a little.

Y/n suddenly misses the cover of his chest. “Why?”

His eyebrows come together as a ponderous expression takes over his features. He seems to be trying to word his response.

“Because it’d be so brief.” He says with a teasing smile. “Hours would feel like a split second. And you’d become impossible to catch up with.”

For a second, her heart stutters in her chest. Her heartbeat becomes an irregular, spluttering thing. It takes all of her drunken courage to look him in the eye and respond to his teasing in kind.

“I’m gonna bet on something too.”

He raises an eyebrow, mouth slightly parted. “Yeah?”

“Bet it felt the same to kiss your cousin’s crush.”

He must not have expected her to bring that up (she’d seen him making out with a girl and later learned that it was indeed his cousin’s crush) because his ministrations on her shoulders come to a halt. Not for long though. He recovers at the speed of sound, his right hand coming up to cup her cheek. His thumb brushes back and forth over the flaming skin.

“You’ve lost the bet then.” He whispers, and somehow Y/n hears him over the music. “I win.”

She hears their breaths synchronize as he leans down, head angled. With her hand over his chest, she can make out the violent waltz of their heartbeats when his lips ghost over hers, the sliver of space between them begging to be consumed. She hears the wind passing through the garden as he leans forward and presses his lips on hers, tongue flicking at her bottom lip and she feels compelled to let him in. It is euphoric to be touched, and he touches her so kindly every time.

His hand, previously on her shoulder, slides down to her waist, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss. In their state of drunkenness, it is amazing they haven’t tumbled to the floor by the time he releases her and they both come up for air.

The music has stopped. Their friends have settled in a quiet rhythm. Or perhaps they have fallen asleep on the couch.  

“See?” Rin whispers, slurring his words as he drags his thumb along her bottom lip. The flesh feels so soft and bruised under his touch. “Too brief.”

Y/n doesn’t know if smiling would be too weird. What matters is that she’s drunk so she doesn’t care about that. She looks up at him with eyes filled with wonder and a smile on her lips. It stays that way long after they’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms beside their friends.

It is a tragedy that she remembers none of it when the morning creeps up with claws of gold and a promise of tearing them from this summer. Or the summer from them.

Don't even know if there are ppl still reading this fic lmfaooooo

But anyway i still remember some of the people that asked me to tag them. @invyou @kurookinnie @tuttumi the last one is my best friend she's obligated to read my shit you can't escape hoe

[bittybattybunny]

Please lemme read Cafe Latte!

Order up!!!

Alright so here’s what I had written for this before I dropped the project to focus on TLC and then swapped to the Mermaid Plot instead for Hattie’s parents

I also included the Synop I originally wrote when it was gonna be posted on Ao3 if I finished it

    So A Time Traveler, her older inter-dimensional Demon brother, and a lawyer walk into a Cafe---

Arulius Law was a tired law student trying his best to manage school work and his Controlling girlfriend Vanessa. His life changed when a girl's dog ran into him in the park! Meeting that same girl again when walking home, he got dragged through a time rift and the two are trying to fix the matter together!

“Damnit, Damion! HEEL!” The young woman shouted as she ran after the great dane.

    The poor young man who sat below the tree looked up a moment too late as he was barreled into by the slobbering pooch. He coughed as the dog placed its tongue all over him, covering him in drool. He wiped his face as the dog was abruptly pulled off of him by the very angry looking girl.

    “Bad Dog!” She chided, clicking the chain around his neck, “Honestly I shift hands for five seconds to answer my phone and you book it!” she sighed, holding a hand to the young man while tightly holding the dog’s leash in the other, “Sorry About that Sir.”

    He took her hand, standing upright and dusting off. She blinked in shock as he stood above her, not having expected him to be so tall.

    “It’s fine. He spoke in a deep voice, unbefitting of his thin frame, “I chose a bad spot to study!” he laughed it off, cackling.

    She began to laugh with him, placing her hand on her hip, “Still, I should have had a better grip on him. Sorry about it.”

    “No one but the bacteria on my face got hurt, so I don’t see any need to apologize.” he cracked his back stretching, “I needed to get up for class anyway.” he checked his watch, “I have a lecture in about 20 minutes. Perfect time to get a coffee.” 

    “How About I treat you?” She offered, “Since he did take your kisses.” She snickered a bit. She brushed a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. 

    He thought about it for a moment. Vanessa wouldn’t mind, right? It was just a coffee as an apology? 

He sighed, “yeah sure.” he grinned, “Anything for bean water.”

“Rad.” She smiled, sharp teeth peeking when she did, “Lead the way!” She laughed.

He grabbed his backpack from the grass, shoving his open books into it and began to walk towards the west of the park, “There’s a nice cafe this way owned by a lovely screaming couple. Dead bird Cafe.” he explained as they walked, “one of the owners is this older gentleman who’s always screaming, but he makes the best dark roast ever.” he grinned.

“Dead bird Cafe,” she repeated thinking about it. She snickered, “So that’s how it is.” She giggled brushing her thick hair behind her ear only to have it bush back. She groaned, “I need a haircut.”

“I feel you on that.” He laughed loudly, brushing his own back, “My girlfriend likes my hair long though so I leave it.” he sighed, “Long curly hair on a legal defendant doesn’t look good. I feel I look so unkempt.”

“If you want unkempt try having these cowlicks!” she chuckled as she ran a finger through the shorter parts of her hair, “At least yours looks on length! I can’t get mine to grow more than a weird mullet!” She sighed heavily, the dog she was walking barking his two cents. The two laughed as they made it to the western disco cafe. 

She paused outside, trying to withhold a laugh, “What is this decor?!” She was holding her stomach as she laughed, bright blue eyes watering.

“Yes it…. It is a little. Different.” he admitted opening the door, “Let me see if your dog can come in.” He headed inside, “Conrad?” he asked as he walked in, “DJ?” 

“Aye if it ain't the bean pole! What canne aye getcha today?” the golden-haired man asked as he was wiping out a cup. He sat behind the counter, looking out the door. The young woman was busy talking on her phone, seeming visibly upset over something. “Who’s the lassie? You finally cut it off with Vanessa?”

He shook his head, “No, NO! Perish the thought Conrad!” he chuckled, “Her dog tackled me in the park, she offered to pay for my coffee as an apology, but we can’t just tie a great dane who got loose once outside. I couldn’t recall if you’re pet friendly.”

He frowned, “Well technically we’re nawt. But we only opened a lil bit ago so no one is here yet, so.” He shrugged, “As the owner I say fine.” He laughed, “You can go tell her, Arulius.”

“Thanks!” he waved heading to the door, “He said it’s okay.” He tilted his head as she was frowning, creasing her brow heavily, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, snapping back, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My brother was just being really annoying!” she admitted, “Apparently he found something I have to go look at when he gets out of class.” She dropped her shoulders defeated, “Today was MEANT to be a relaxing day.”

“I get you.” he patted the top of her head. His eyes lit up surprised, “Your hair is very soft!” He stated. He had it to be coarser.

She turned a bit red, “O-Oi!” She pushed past through the coffee shop door, “It’s because I just dyed it! The conditioner makes it softer!” she flushed bright red, “G-Get your bean water!” She pointed to the menu looking it over.

He followed her back inside with a very loud laugh. She jolted as he cackled, her grip tightening on the dog. Her eyes were wide as she thought about it and covered her face, “Ah. So. you.” she was mumbling and he couldn’t figure her last words.

“Hrm?” he tilted his head, “Conrad I’d like my usual please, extra-large.” He ordered.

“Aye Figured.” the old man laughed, the sound similar bird cawing, “An’ for ya lassie?”

“Oh, Um.” she was scrutinizing the board, “I.. Actually don’t know.” she admitted, “I don’t drink coffee so I don’t know what’s good. I don’t like Bitter.”

“What about a cafe latte then?” Arulius offered, “it has a lot of milk and creamer in it so it’s sweeter than a normal coffee.”

“Is that so..” she mused as she tugged on the dogs lead, “Okay!” she smiled. He hadn’t imagined it earlier. He couldn’t help noticing her canines were very oversized.

“So a Death Macchiato and a Cafe Latte.” The older gentleman hopped off his bar stool. He barely stood taller than the counter. 

“Don’t!” Arulius warned seeing her eyes go wide. He stood in front of her to whisper, “Do not laugh! He’ll put SALT in your drink!”

She was doing her best to not laugh, “I won’t, I won’t!” her voice cracked as she whispered. She covered her mouth in her hands.

“You are doing a bad job!” he snickered at her.

“I Know!” she wheezed and leaned against his back, “I wasn’t prepared! Ahh.” she sighed, taking a deep breath, “I’m cool, it’s cool!” she grinned widely showing off those odd teeth, “See It’s cool!”

“Well if ye are cool the coffee is hot.” The man put the two cups on the counter, steam rising off of them, “Drink up, it’ll be 12.50 pons lassie!”

“Oh good, it is still pons.” She sighed relieved as she pulled out her wallet and paid for the drinks. She took hers and handed off the other, “Cheers.” she smirked. She patted the dog’s head. 

They tapped their cups together, taking a  sip as they exited the establishment. Yup that was a Death Macchiato. He sighed happily intaking the illegal amount of pure espresso and a hint of cream with a sigh of relief, “Ah I live.”

“Do you?” she asked with a cheeky grin. She sipped on her own, “I don’t hate it. But coffee is still too bitter.”

“You think so?” he asked as they walked towards the campus. He froze, “Are you going here too?” he asked worriedly.

“No, I’m just meeting my brother.” She admitted, “He works here.” she shrugged, “he won’t get out for a bit, so I was just going to finish walking Damion and return him to his owner.”

“Oh, it’s not your dog?” He blinked at her, he was sure it was.

“Nope! I just walk him for his owner.” She gave another shrug, “I have to earn money somehow and it’s hard when you didn’t finish High School and have no trade skills.”

“Why not get your GED or something?” he pondered as they headed towards the history building, “are you following me the whole way?”

“Why not?” she asked with a sly grin, “Actually, I just don’t..” she paused thinking about the next choice of words, “don’t have time for it.”

“But you can dog walk, and escort a student to class?” he raised a brow.

“One day off does not make for a full set of classes.” she pointed out, “And I’m not worried, I mostly do this because I enjoy it.”

Standing on the building's edge she gave him a small bow, “have a good time in class, Arulius!” She grinned, turning heel and running off in her bright blue sneakers, the dog keeping pace as they vanished before he could respond.

He sighed waving and headed inside, setting his books down he froze. 

He never told her his name.

-----

“Good work today class!” the teacher clapped his hands together, he wheeled around the classroom, picking up the students papers. “Remember Thursday is a test day! Time waits for no one, so please make sure to study!” he laughed as he rolled up to Arulius’s desk, “As for you, I know you are trying to succeed, but please when I say 6-10 pages, I only mean 10 max.” he  grabbed the hefty stack from the desk, “Also when will you start typing your reports, Mr. law?”

“When Vanessa gives my laptop back?” he shrugged, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I just really like writing them out.”

The grey-haired man sighed, tapping the other’s head with the stack, “use the computer lab next time.” the other students filed out of the classroom.

Arulius packed his bag up, pulling his phone out he sighed at all the texts Vanessa had left him. Typing back he shrugged the straps over his shoulder. He started his walk home with a disgruntled sigh. He couldn’t get a single day without her freaking out. What did he have to tell her to make her believe he wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He literally went to class, home, and the cafe. 

He blinked as he watched the girl from that morning scoot by him into the classroom. He almost hadn’t noticed but she smelt heavily of pine as she cut by him.

“Sena!” She shouted as she headed inside with a wide grin, “Ready?” She asked as she stood on the back of his wheelchair, leaning over him.

“Oh more than. I’m getting sore.” he admitted with a laugh, “I know this was your day off but Tim said it was a pretty bad one. Friend was even worried.”

“Yeah. yeah.” she sighed and ruffled her hair. She turned towards the door giving the young man a wave, “Hi Again!”

“Oh. Uh right hi!” he waved back sheepishly as he turned to leave, having felt his face turn red. He couldn’t believe he got caught staring. He sighed looking back. So that was her brother. Weird. He didn’t recall his teacher ever mentioning any family. But then again it was his teacher. He felt his phone go off again. He started to run home with a heavy sigh.

-----

“So. Is it a violet, blue, red, green?” She asked as she closed the classroom door. She looked at her brother with a tilted head.

“Hold on. Let me just.” he pushed up on the wheelchair, his legs dissolving in an almost pixelated fashion as his skin turned light blue. His face rearranging into a more alien state, his head changing shape. He shook his head as he finished shifting and floating around her, “I love teaching but holding a human form gets so tiring. Plus the whole I don’t actually have legs thing.” he grumbled floating around her. He snapped his fingers so his chair folded up vanishing in a mass of red threads.

“Feeling better now you can stretch a little?” She chuckled as she raised her hand to reach into the air. It shimmered as her hand vanished, reappearing holding an hourglass.

“Oh much better. Also what was with you and Mr. Law?” he raised his brow curiously as he took the hourglass from her.

“Oh, Arulius?” She sighed, “The dog I was walking this morning jumped him.” She admitted, “I treated him to coffee as a sorry. You know. He reminded me a lot of that one shadow demon we met years ago.”

“You think so?” He tilted his head this time, clearly a family trait.

“His laughter.” she admitted with a big grin, “Also I totally found that old Firespirit! He runs a coffee shop! A far cry from a studio!”

“Well, that does happen when you jump dimensions as often as we do. Somethings get mixed around.” he shrugged as he flipped the glass, red threads around it as he did. “Though I highly doubt that Mr. Law is the Snatcher…” he frowned, “Actually, no. You may be right.” he sighed, “well let’s hope he meets a better fate here.”

“You going to steal his corpse?” She teased as she reached out a blue flame covering the red threads.

“You steal a prince’s body once and you never live it down!” he wheezed. “Almost got it!” he held his hands up, “Alright! I think we’re good for a jump!”

“Onward!” She grinned as she took the hourglass back and flipped it around, the air shifting as things began to rewind, the two of them standing still as folks moved around them as if in a movie.

“How far back?” She asked as she held the glass steady.

“About a day and OH!” he stopped her, the rift shimmering as they paused the world around them by turning the glass on its side. “There it is!” He pointed towards a shimmering crimson toned orb that floated above the students in the classroom.

“Oh booo. I hate red rifts.” She huffed as she got up on a desk reaching out.

“Wait Eclipse!” Sena shouted but it was too late, her foot brushed Arulius’s face as he sat at his desk righting. He blinked looking around confused. The trio was pulled into the orb with a fizzing noise. The world resumed without them.

----

“Uh...Uhh..” Arulius looked around as they stood on the ceiling in a rocky temple.

Eclipse was holding her head ashamed while he looked around. He winced as he felt blood from his nose, leaking down his face towards his mouth despite the way they stood.

“How do I explain this to Tim?!” she fretted as she held her head in her hands, “Sena! What do we do?!” she gasped.

The demon was looking around, inspecting the stonework, “Nothing can be done right now. We need to locate what caused this rift, be it a timepiece or something else. Since it’s a red one, that means there could be an escaped horizon lurker.”

“Sena! I think this is a little more pressing! Oh no.” She saw his nose bleeding and reached to wipe it, “Damnit.” she groaned, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m just.” He was trying to figure what was going on. His head was pounding and his stomach lurched, “urp.” he covered his mouth with his hands as he paled trying to keep his lunch down.

A loud roar filled the air and she groaned, “Damnit. It is a Horizon lurker. Sena.” she held her hand out.

“Right.” the demon reached and grabbed the threads that materialized around his fingers and a golden halberd with a star theme formed from the threads. She took it and looked at the poor law student.

“Sena why don’t you stay with him. I’ll go get the timepiece.” she looked at him apologetically, “Sorry about this, Ru. I promise it’ll be like a bad dream when this is over!”  She jumped from the ceiling landing on the ground and running off.

He could only stare in shock as he fell to his knees. He paused, “Sena…” he looked at the demon who was holding his hands and fretting, “Mr. Nightingale?” he asked quietly.

“Yes Um hello.” he waved with a low chuckle. He laced his fingers together and took human form, however he was standing upright as he rubbed his neck annoyed, “look this is just as weird for me!” he sighed heavily, “Dear Mother Moon. That girl I swear is always a wreck no matter which dimension I find her.” he grimaced and looked down, “We can make you forget this ever happened so don’t fret so much. Think of it like.” he waved his scarred hands around looking for the words, “well as Ammy said, a bad dream.”

“Ammy?” Arulius stared even more confused.

“Oh um. It’s my nickname for Eclipse.” the demon scratched his cheek and sat down beside the law student as he thought about the matter, “I should have activated the rift but she was so hurried. I know she has a quota to make but.” he stopped hearing a roar and a loud whooping noise, “seems she found the lurker.” he leaned on his hand and rapped his fingers on the stonework nervously, “please let her handle it without injury.” he begged.

Arulius stared, “what are you exactly?” he reached a hand to touch the smooth surface of the demon’s head.

[milktei]

I would love to see your take on a cafe au! preferably with a genshin man heheh

People Watching

Diluc Ragnvindr x gn!Reader

Genre: Based off of People Watching by Conan Gray, Modern AU, Cafe AU, FLUFF (can u believe it?

Warnings: none

Requests: Open!

Also posted on ao3

a/n: my first request so exciting! Ahhhh let me tell you anon i was kicking my feet all giddily while writing this. Hopefully this meets you expectations! Sorry if it’s a little jumpy(?). I was listening to music while thinking of this au so I took the idea and ran with it.

Song fics aren’t usually my thing ironically (don’t get me started in one’s with lyrics between the paragraphs) but I was ✨inspired✨ and integrated the song into the framework of what I already had :). Also I’m a sucker for soft and awkward Diluc he might be ooc to some but fight me I think he has a soft side.

Owning and working at a cafe meant that you got to know your regulars quite well as time went on.

Diluc knew that better than anyone.

Albedo is a chemistry major who takes alarming amount of espresso shots in his drinks. Lisa works at the library and likes milk in her tea. If he sees Thoma, he knows to prepare for a big order. His internal list could go on and on.

Working at a cafe also meant a plethora of couples would come and go, as cafes have always been popular places to go on dates. Asking someone if they wanted to grab a cup of coffee always seemed to be the easiest way to tell someone you wanted to spend time with them.

To Diluc, couples were more interesting to learn about. They would stay at his cafe for hours, and talk about their lives as if nobody else was around. Diluc knew them better than he let on.

The girl who laughs at her boyfriend’s joke to the point of tears, even if it wasn’t funny.

The couple with stars in their eyes, who still count their relationship by the month rather than the year.

49 months; over 4 years.

A teenage boy recites another’s complicated order off the top of his head with ease.

Another gushes to his friend about the reasons he loves his partner.

Of course they’re not all sweet

A woman in her late 20s smiles down sadly at the ring on her ring finger.

“No we’re not engaged, this is just a promise ring… hopefully soon though!”

A man grips his cup tighter in his hands.

“They said they wanted to take a break.”

Diluc was known to others as a dark, brooding, and emotionless man. Yet despite what the few people that knew him thought, deep down he yearned to feel that same love and onslaught of emotions he heard people gush about as he worked.

It could be frustrating sometimes, the way people teased him for being cold, or soulless.

Sometimes he just wanted to yell out into the world that he was in fact capable of feeling emotions. That he wanted to bring love back into his life after being depraved if it for so long.

That when he was young he dreamed of owning a typical home in the suburbs, even a family to call his own.

Diluc wanted the good and the bad parts of love, the kisses and the fights.

It was easier said than done.

There are parts to Diluc that are broken. He had been hurt by those close to him multiple times. He had dated in the past but it was never serious enough to evolve into something more.

Cutting someone out of his life was not nearly as hard as letting someone in.

Diluc decided to resort to simply people watching. An easy hobby to have when you work at a cafe. Making drinks by pure muscle memory whilst ease dropping and watching his regulars through his peripheral vision.

In a way, he was living through his customers vicariously. On slow days he would even find himself making up stories of them. There was only so much stuff to clean after all.

“I’ll get an iced matcha latte please.”

Diluc was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. You were new, a student he guessed from the bag on your back.

“What size?” Diluc managed to ask before the pause in the exchange got awkward.

You hummed thoughtfully, “just a medium please,” you turned your head to the pastries in the display case and Diluc could see excitement in your face when you saw the freshly made shortbread cookies.

“and three of those please.” you pointed.

The corner of Diluc’s mouth twitched ever so slightly as he punched in your order “can I get a name for your order?”

“y/n”

Diluc gave you your total and tried not to pay any attention to your hand brushing his as you handed him your cash. He nodded in gratitude when you immediately dropped your change into the tip jar without a second thought.

“Oh, will that be for here or to go?” diluc asked suddenly. It was unlike him to forget a part of his usual script, he wouldn’t have needed to ask for your name if he already knew you were staying. Still a part of him was glad he had learnt it.

You looked out at the cafe and smiled “I’ll stay.”

“Great, I’ll get everything out to you in just a moment. Please, feel free to sit anywhere you’d like.”

You gave him another sweet smile and walked over to a table by the window. A popular spot usually taken by couples and avoided by groups due to it only having two chairs.

as Diluc made your drink, he watched as you pulled a laptop and notebook from your bag. Your pencil case, and earbuds came next, and slowly you began to adjust everything to become your perfect study space.

After placing the cookies onto a plate then onto a tray that already held your finished drink, Diluc walked to your table and gently placed it down.

“For you y/n”

You looked up at Him and quickly moved your belongings so he had room to place down the tray. “thank you.”

Diluc made his way back to behind the counter and grinned when he saw, through his peripheral vision, your eyes widen in amazement as you tasted your drink. Taking it as a small success, Diluc happily began cleaning the supplies he had used.

-

You came to the cafe often after your initial visit

You always came to the cafe alone, so instead of overhearing what was going on in your life like he usually would, Diluc found himself getting to know you through your habits, and what little small talk was made as you paid.

You often came to the cafe after class to study, and took public transit to get around.

You shuffled your music but hit skip until the right song came on.

You chewed your straw as you read, and flipped your pencil as you thought.

I never knew Diluc could be such a creep. He heard a certain voice tease, but Diluc couldn’t help that he simply found himself enamoured with you without caution.

“See you tomorrow Diluc!” Charles waved as he left the cafe at the end of his shift. Diluc wordlessly waved back as he brushed down the espresso machine.

He glanced up at the large windows of the cafe and frowned at the darkening sky. Despite what the weather forecast had said in the morning, it seemed like it was about to start pouring any moment.

His suspicion was confirmed the moment he heard the beginnings of rainfall tapping on the glass.

He looked over at you. In your usual spot, seemingly in your own world as you typed away at your laptop.

“I don’t suppose you brought an umbrella with you?”

He had spoken without thinking, mentally scolding himself as you jumped and broke away from your studying mindset.

You wordlessly looked outside and he saw your shoulders droop ever so slightly. You turned to him and sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

“I didn’t. Are you closing now?”

You thought he was kicking you out. He mentally hit himself.

“No no I was just wondering since it seems to be coming down quite hard. You’re welcome to stay and wait it out for as long as you’d like.” Diluc had rushed the last sentence, nearly desperate to get the words out. Heat creeped to his face from embarrassment and he prayed to the archons that you couldn’t see.

You smiled at him “Thank you Diluc, hopefully it won’t take too long for the rain to let up.”

Diluc had to force himself not to melt on the spot as you said his name, he nodded and cleared his throat, turning around to busy himself with work and not embarrass himself any further.

As he wiped the counter yet again, his hand brushed up against a container of cocoa powder, Diluc paused. He looked over his shoulder and saw you slowly begin typing again.

He didn’t want to bother you again… But a sudden wave of confidence was slowly rising in him, and if he didn’t do anything now, he was certain he never would.

-

A steaming mug was placed down gently beside your laptop.

Your typing came to a stop again and your stared at the mug before slowly turning to your gaze to the redhead standing at your table, giving him a look urging him to explain.

“I always thought that hot chocolate was perfect to enjoy during this type of weather.” Diluc said as he smiled nervously.

“Oh! Thank you.” you said in shock, there was a pause before you reached into you bag in search of your wallet.

Diluc waved his hands, “there’s no need, really, it’s on the house.”

You blinked in surprise “Thank you again Diluc you didn’t have to.”

There was an another longer lapse in the conversation, you stared at the empty chair across from you.

“Would you like to join me? You can make yourself a cup, I’ll wait for you.” You felt your heart race as the weight of your impulsive worlds registered in your mind, “O-of course you don’t have to! I’m sure your busy so only if you want-“

“That sounds lovely.”

You nearly sighed in relief as Diluc stopped you from rambling even further and you smiled sheepishly at him as he quickly made his way back to the counter and quickly made his drink. In the mean time you busied yourself with putting away all your school supplies.

You were finishing zipping up your bag, Diluc had made his way back the table. As he sat down, that is when you noticed that he had taken off his apron.

Diluc himself was thinking about how strange it was to be sitting in a spot he usually watched from afar.

You sat back in your seat and grabbed your mug, Diluc did the same, and it was silent save for the rain as you two sipped at your drinks.

“So,” you started before clearing your throat “besides giving customers free drinks is there any else you do on slow days like this?”

You took another sip of your drink and Diluc smiled at the sight of you looking down at it as if there were sparkles in you eyes, the way you did when you tasted something you deemed particularly delicious.

“This happens to be a special case.” your eyes widened slightly and Diluc had to restrain himself from outwardly celebrating at the sight of your visibly flustered face. Perhaps this was a good idea after all.

“There’s not a whole lot to do besides cleaning and making sure my machines aren’t broken, but I’ve picked up some hobbies.” Diluc continued, finally answering your question.

You placed down your cup, “Such as?”

“People watching.”

[bunchesofoats]

DSMP!Coffee Shop AU

Feat — Most, but not all, C!DSMP Characters (C! not CC!)

Contains — Coffee Shop AU aka lots of big, fancy barista words

Notes — I work in a cafe and I thought this would be funny. This is mostly just characters, but I might do another post regarding the L’Manburg Revolution but in Coffee Shop Rivalry form. Let me know if you’re interested in my inbox!

The Dream Team created the Dream Cafe together, it was mostly Dream’s idea so they named it after him- Sapnap and George just decided “why not” and tagged along

Dream is an absolute god at making/remembering all sorts of drinks like the back of his hand, George is adequate at drinks but he usually likes working in the kitchen where there’s no annoying customers, and Sapnap loves working at the cashier to meet new people

Ponk was one of their first customers who turned into an employee due to how much of a regular he was, his expertise is more on drinks like fruit refreshers and teas but he loves helping in the kitchen! He makes absolutely MENTAL lemon bars that even Dream doesn’t know the recipe to.

Similar to Ponk, BBH was also a customer turned employee! He loves working in the kitchens w George (who has no complaints when BBH takes over so he can “go on break”) and his expertise is muffins! Don’t ask how he’s so good with knives though.

Sam is the cafe’s resident fixer upper and is one of the managers (along w the Dream Team), if the espresso machine is broken he’ll either fix it himself or have a 5 page document of replacements with pros and cons of each product

Tommy was a new hire they took a chance on, they didn’t usually hire teenagers but they thought it’d bring in more of a younger audience than their usual old men who order a single black coffee- He absolutely LOVES making lattes, stuffing any leftover sweets in his apron, and hiding food around the cafe from BBH

Thankfully, Tubbo applied as well and was in the same orientation group as Tommy so they became the customers’ favorite pair of troublemakers! When Sam isn’t working, Tubbo is often very helpful with fixing things around the cafe! Though only quick fixes and temporary, they’ve saved them from dealing with cranky customers who want their coffee at a certain time

The managers attempt with Tommy and Tubbo didn’t work exactly as they planned because Tommy then roped in Wilbur to apply, whose favorite type of drink is a single black coffee. He did end up learning to like sweeter things such as lattes after being taught how to make them by Tommy, but he still will ask Tubbo to brew him some "regular" coffee every now and then

Like Wilbur with Tommy, Fundy was told to apply by Wilbur. Fundy is more in charge of Dream Cafe’s promotion. As their social media manager, he deals with their website, online delivery/pickup orders, and can even cover the register when Sapnap isn’t working! He’s usually found working in the cafe’s back office with, surprisingly, not coffee but juice for some odd reason. Something about how he doesn't care for cafe drinks.

Punz and Purpled both applied out of the sheer need for money and the fact that the cafe was close to their homes. They just clock in, do what they’re told, and clock out. No one really knows either of them well except Dream. Fundy has gotten a laugh and a bit of help with website ideas from Purpled though. No one really knows what they do outside of work.

Schlatt applied out of sheer boredom, barely works any shifts or hours, and like Punz and Purpled, no one knows anything about him outside of work. He’s the cafe’s enigma worker, really good at the job but incredibly mysterious otherwise.

Eret, Jack, and Niki all joined at the same time and were all a part of the same orientation group so they created a group chat together (will get back to this later)! Like the Dream Team, Eret works on drinks, Niki in the kitchens, and Jack is on the register!

Lots of chaos ensues, and maybe some unexpected rivalry causing a split?

[yostresswritinggirl]

Is there any chance that you could write an AU where the reader has a part-time job in a café and the Genshin character of your choice frequents that café solely for the reader? (I had that idea for a while, but I could never write it down...uwaaaa)

It took a while since this has been sitting in the back of my mind, and I went with the generic Venti route hnghhhhh, I'm not good with cafe aus hahahah

A Venti A Day

Cafe AU with frequent customer Venti (masterlist)

Working part-time in a cafe is not the most ideal set up when you struggle with organizing your time for college, but it was the last bit of money you needed to at least be financially stable in the modern world of broke young adults. While it was tiresome to work and study 24/7, there were little parts of the job that makes it enjoyable.

The customers when they're acting decent and giving generous tips, but most definitely, the most entertaining part is the creative process of choosing their cup names.

"French Vanilla Latte for Venti!"

And this was one of them. Despite his drink being a Tall, 'Venti' has been consistent with his order DAILY. Your curiousity sparked the first time you met when he revealed his chosen pseudonym. While it's not exactly creative or new, the fact that he stuck with the name amused you of his conviction.

The said boy (he's Venti-sized) bounded over to the counter with that glow of a toothy smile, thanking you as his fingers wrapped around- your hand awkwardly. You would have blushed, well you might as well be, but the predicament you were in as you try and struggle to pull away made you snort at the stupid setup.

"Venti, please, my hand-"

"Oh whoopsies~"

No, this was not the first time this happened. And like clockwork, he drops a few coins in the tip jar as compensation for the 'unexpected encounter.' And then he goes back to his singles table as usual.

Your co-worker Diluc nudges you with a wary look before pointing his chin at the frequent boy, silently asking if you were alright. Considerate as always, you shook your head with an assuring smile before going back to work.

Venti manages to be on time despite his own studies, clocking in at 4:30 PM with the same order before going to his usual seat. There he busies himself with his phone where he endlessly scrolls through his feed or play with some game, the drink long forgotten until he remembers it. Even then he takes very few sips and then back to what he was doing prior.

It feels like a ritual for him now, and you never knew what else is there about him besides his nickname 'Venti.'

The more he continued and stick out like a sore thumb, the more curious you become. Why does he always go here when he clearly doesn't care much about his drink or the atmosphere? Was it the Wi-Fi? No the signal here is shit. Does he dislike going back to his dormitory or home after school? He seems eager to go away either way.

Where does he get the money to buy such an expensive drink daily?

This was the first time Venti broke the routine, the step by step broken the moment he walked in.

First thing that was off was the nervous look on his usually confident visage, an uneasy smile and eyes that didn't dare look at you when you offered your greeting.

Second was him immediately taking his usual spot instead of going over the counter to order.

And last was the sneaking glances he tries to hide but yet so obvious, as your hands busy itself with the drink in your hand. Maybe this was a sign and you're ready to take it, even if it would cost you a few dollars off your already small minimim wage.

"Ah, I-I don't really have the means to pay for this..." Bingo! You smiled as you set down the tall French Vanilla Latte on his table, triumphant over finally making him flustered instead of you.

"It's on the house," his teal eyes widened in surprise, "But you can pay me another way."

"Ohh? Do tell, I'm sure I can whip something up~" The lilt of his voice made you choke.

"I just want to know your real name, that should be enough."

His head tilts to the side, his little beret slightly sliding with the motion you found cute. "You already know it tho?" What? Your form straightened and retreated a bit, mind going wild at the implications. Did you really? Was he an old friend or a classmate you didn't notice or forgotten? You really had no clue- "It's Venti!"

"Excuse me?"

You might have to go overtime today.

Just a cute lil drabble uwu

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @ellitx @sk1nnyangelic

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 2

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘  genre | angst, exes au

☘  summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘  word count | 5.6k

☘  rating | PG-13

☘  warnings | none

☘  a/n | ngl this update is coming later than i intended 🙈🙈 life has been pretty demanding on me lately butttt here we go!! chapter 2 😌 as always, thank you all you lovelies for reading, and let me know what you think 💕

The blare of the alarm pierces straight through the pleasantry of slumber and has you fumbling blindly for your phone. It’s right there on the bedside table. You refuse to open your eyes to the morning light that streams into your apartment. Finally, your searching hand finds the coolness of the device that's vibrating away angrily where it sits. Within a few attempts, swiping with your eyes still stubbornly closed, you get it to shut up. Rolling over, you snuggle further down under the covers, basking in the cozy warmth.

Beep. Beep.

Of course the moment of peace is not meant to last. The five-minute snooze duration on your alarm provides but a temporary respite. You groan.

But you kick the covers off, letting the cold morning air be what shocks you into alertness. Remaining in bed is really tempting, sure.

Thank god you love your job enough to overcome the daily inertia of getting up.

You shiver a little as your bare feet hit the chilly floor. Pulling the oversized shirt that is your staple sleepwear closer to you in an attempt to retain some body heat, the thought of purchasing a fluffy robe is beginning to look less and less impulsive and more and more justifiable as a necessity. With the lack of said fluffy robe, you rush to the bathroom in search of the comfort that's found in standing under the warm spray of the shower.

Your daily morning shower always gets you sufficiently awake, or enough for you to at least be in the right state of mind to make your cup of coffee that will wake you up entirely. The coffee machine had been a splurge at the time of purchase. But it’s established itself well enough within your morning routine to be considered an investment at this point. Sipping your coffee- with cream and no sugar- in between your daily make-up routine has your insides all toasty and warm.

The hot beverage exponentially increases in importance on rainy mornings like these. It’s nothing too drastic, just a light drizzle. But it makes the concrete jungle that you live in feel extra cold, and in more ways than just in temperature. The lack of lush greenery and the stiff silence of the people rushing about to get on with their hectic daily lives often leaves the city atmosphere feeling gray and dreary.

But you can’t complain.

Not when you’re one of the exceptional cases that gets to do what you truly love. In fact, being surrounded by the robotic throngs that drag themselves to the towering skyscrapers that house these big fancy corporations of blah only makes you even more aware that what you have is something coveted.

Working as a museum curator definitely wasn’t your childhood dream. But your college days had awakened the deep passion for art history that had laid dormant in you for years.

And now, here you are. Living in the big city and working for a prestigious museum. Who would have imagined that small-town you would have achieved all of this?

You absolutely love it. This little space in the world you’ve carved out is yours. You’re chasing after your own dream and living out your passion.

Maybe that’s one thing you should be thankful for from the breakup. Being thrust into singleness had left you helplessly untethered at first what with the abrupt upheaval of all the plans you’d initially laid out.

But perhaps it was what you needed. You needed to be an individual. You needed to know what that individuality meant. And your self-exploration, free from just chasing his shadow, brought you to discover your interest in curatorial work.

Which, in turn, brought you to the city.

The very same city that the breakup had happened in.

The fates truly have a sense of humor, pulling you back to the place which was once the site of heartbreak and tragedy, but is now the launchpad for your ambitions and self-actualization.

Or, much more plausibly, it was not the fates but a matter of practicality and statistics. It’s a big city, housing multiple big-name museums. It’s only natural that the city would become the base for you to build up your career once you completed your post-grad studies.

Once upon a time, when things were still a little too raw, you’d sworn off this place entirely. The city was simply too filled with memories, both good and bad, of him.

But that line of thought simply couldn’t hold up for too long. After all, by that same logic, your own hometown would have had to be boycotted as well.

Through your extended reverie, your hands- well-seasoned to the movements they execute daily- had finished your simple make-up routine. One final spritz of setting spray, and you release your now damp hair from where it sat bundled in the towel atop your head. As you absentmindedly blow dry your hair, your thoughts wander off on their own once again.

Your decision to move out to the city was one that was made in full knowledge that Namjoon was still here. This city is not affectionately termed the city of dreams for nothing. As an aspiring writer and a boy with a city soul, it was the most natural progression of events that he chose to remain in the city after graduating from college. Living in the city made it convenient for him to meet up with his editor and publishing company.

Or so you’ve heard from Hoseok. It’s been years since your break up and neither of you have reached out to close that awkward distance that rifted between you. Anyway, when you were moving out here, you figured that in a city as big as this with such a dense population, there’s little chance that you’ll actually bump into him.

Okay. You apologize to whatever deity it is out there for your earlier dismissal of the fates. Now that you think about it, they truly exist, and boy do they have a sense of humor.

Who would think that even in a city as large as yours, you’d still manage to run into him? And not just once, but a number of times now.

The first time, it was in a diner just two streets down from the museum that you had planned to go to for lunch. That is, until you spotted him through the window, chatting with a companion, his tanned skin and dimpled smile the same as always. Suffice to say, your lunch plans changed.

Then on a quiet afternoon in the museum, your little workplace trio had slipped out together for a coffee break under Yeri’s insistence. Apparently, the new cafe down the road served an oat milk latte that was to die for, or at least good enough to drag you and Soo-eun out for.

Turns out the cafe’s reputation had reached Namjoon’s ears too, because there he was, seated by the window with a mess of papers filled with his scrawly handwriting. The choice of seating was so… Joon. He’d always justified his fascination with people-watching by claiming it to be an essential part of his creative process.

Thankfully, this creative process seemed to be going well for him and took his full attention, allowing you to slip into the cafe unnoticed. A true feat, really, considering how animated Yeri gets when she’s chatty. With your oat milk latte in hand- also this damn drink better be so good it brings you to your knees on the first sip given the things you’ve had to endure to obtain it- you’re ready to make your swift escape from this risky situation.

As Soo-eun pushes the door open, you steal a leftwards glance. Your heart stills for a second. A pair of familiar, striking eyes is trained on you, and they widen just a fraction upon being caught. You can feel your own features making their own reflex reaction as the shock runs electric through you.

The awkward eye contact is forcibly broken as you follow after your friends, refusing to acknowledge the moment the two of you just shared. That was all it was- a moment- but it felt like time came to a standstill the moment your eyes met.

This freezing of time seems to be recurrent in your run-ins with Namjoon. The next time you see him is when you’re riding the subway home. Your pubescent years had seen Namjoon shooting up in height. You can’t forget the countless times he’d had to stoop down for you so you could press a chaste goodbye kiss to his cheek. What an inconvenience it’d been.

But what a convenience it is in this scenario. His head, though bent over a book, towers over the rush hour crowd squeezed into the carriage. With his height, you’d spotted his presence within mere seconds of him boarding the train.

The shock that had jolted through you had you dropping your eye gaze and ducking your head, letting your hair fall as a shield to conceal you. And it was a pretty effective one, as your surreptitious monitoring revealed that he was none the wiser to your presence.

However your next challenge comes when it’s your stop next and he’s standing right by the exit. As the train pulls into the station, you pray hard that he returns to his book and remains sufficiently engrossed in it for you to make your escape. Keeping your gaze on the ground, you worm your way around the crowd, mumbling out ‘pardon me’s.

Perhaps that was your downfall, was what alerted him to your presence. You’re stepping out of the carriage and so close to sweet, sweet relief.

But something brushes your arm just as you’re passing by him- a hand maybe? Your breath catches. Time halts. You steel your nerves. Ignore it. Just keep walking.

As the whirring of the blow dryer switches off, so does your unrestrained recalling come to an end. Downing the last of your coffee- now barely warm- you bring it to the kitchen to wash away the dredges the same way you wash away the thoughts of Namjoon.

"One more week, everyone!" Yeri cheers, as she turns her chair, swapping her cushy flats out for some black heels. That can only mean one thing- she’s headed for a night out.

"Have fun, Yeri," you say.

"Fun? What is that? At this point in our timeline, all I know is the hustle, babe."

You glance meaningfully at her shoes.

"Happy hour drinks with one of our patrons so I can secure the loan on this piece that you listed as absolutely essential," she explains in response to your pointed look.

"Ok, ok. Go work your magic."

She smirks. "That’s right, trust me to be your resident miracle worker."

"Just make sure it comes on time, please. The exhibition spatial plotting on this one looks intense," Soo-eun pipes up quietly.

"Hey, where’s the vote of confidence in our heavenly trio?" Yeri says.

"I mean, we’re good at what we do, but exhibition design never gets any less stressful."

"Don’t worry, Soo-eun, we’ll deliver an excellent exhibition as per usual," you say, instilling in them the confidence that you genuinely feel when working with this team. "With Yeri’s charisma in securing the loans on the pieces we need, coupled with your eye in exhibition design, it’ll be great as per usual."

Ever since that first exhibition you’d all been thrown together for, the synergy between the three of you was undeniable, both to yourselves and to your other coworkers who were mere witnesses of it.

"And not forgetting your taste in selection of pieces too, ____. See, there’s the vote of confidence I was looking for," Yeri says. She applies a fresh coat of her merlot red lipstick and inspects her appearance in her compact mirror. Deeming herself presentable, she gets up from her desk, handbag casually and stylishly slung on her forearm. "Ok, I’m off. TGIF, everyone! Don’t stay too late working on those descriptions, ____."

You hum in response, your eyes glued to said descriptions that were only half-written at this point. Maybe a weekend working overtime is in order.

"Oh! Don’t forget, we’ve got brunch with Dong-In tomorrow. He really enjoyed your company the last time," Yeri says, as if she read your mind. There goes your overtime plans for the weekend that you were mentally pencilling in.

"Right. You make sure that you don’t get too wasted and miss brunch tomorrow."

"Hey, it’s a strictly professional drinking session tonight."

"Mmhm, but I’m sure you’ll find a group of friends for drinks after the meeting. When have you ever missed a night out on the town on a Friday?"

"Touche."

You smirk when she concedes. You love Yeri with all your being, but she’s a party girl at heart and you know her well. "Text me when you’re up tomorrow."

"Will do, babe. I’ve really got to run now or I’ll be late and lose you your art piece."

"All the best, Yeri!" Soo-eun calls after her.

"Thanks, and all the best, Yeri!" you echo.

Sinking back in the plush of your desk chair, you return to the write-ups and sigh.

"Just one more week, ____. Like you said, we’ve got this," Soo-eun encourages.

The next day begins much like the previous, with you fumbling for your alarm in your sleep-addled state and groaning when the five minute snooze duration passes way quicker than what five minutes feels like.

You go through your usual morning routine- shower, coffee, make-up, hair- but can afford to chill out with nowhere to rush to. Weekend mornings are to be savored for their unhurried pace. Getting up is a pain, but you relish the quiet, unbroken serenity of the mornings enough to haul yourself out of bed, even if you don’t have work to head out for.

To be frank, you’re enjoying the peacefulness of your morning so immensely that when 10am rolls around and there’s still no sign from Yeri that she’s awake- you’ve done your due diligence, you’ve dropped her at least five texts and multiple calls to check if she’s alive- the temptation to just ditch your brunch plans grows harder to fight.

Well technically, it’s Yeri’s brunch plans… So if she doesn’t wake up for them then it’s not really your fault, is it?

Dialling her number one last time brings you to her voicemail- Hey, it’s Yeri! If you’re hearing this, it either means I’m busy, asleep, or ignoring you. Just leave your message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Unless I’m ignoring you, in which case, … *beep*- and you smile as you find your scapegoat.

[10.07am] ____: hey dong in, mornnn, i don’t think yeri’s awake

[10.07am] ____: soooo i don’t think she’ll be making it to brunch at this rate

[10.08am] ____: should we take a rain check on this?

Your phone buzzes a little while later.

[10.11am] Dong-In: oh damn, ok then.

[10.13am] Dong-In: catch you another time?

You know that you should feel bad, but you can’t help the joy that washes through you at the prospect of being able to just stay home. Homebody tendencies die hard. Being conscious not to sound too happy, you type a reply quickly, letting Dong-In know you’ll check with Yeri when she’s free next.

The sudden freeing up of your day has you giddy with excitement. With your hair up in a bun and hitting play on your favorite Broadway musicals spotify playlist, you set about tidying your apartment as you sing to yourself. The mess in your apartment has been steadily accumulating in your neglect as a result of the busy schedules at work. But it’s gotten to a point where even you can’t stand it. And more importantly, Hoseok, with his particularity on cleanliness, is coming to visit next week.

When your apartment’s sufficiently clean, you make breakfast with whatever leftovers you can muster from your depleting food supplies. Consuming your pathetically pulled together breakfast omelette that consists of the last egg in the fridge and an overripe, almost-mush tomato cements the next item on your agenda. It’s time to go grocery shopping.

You’re midway to the grocery store when your phone buzzes in your pocket in quick succession as if provoked.

[12.18pm] Yeri: BINCH did you not go to brunch??

[12.18pm] Yeri: duDE

[12.18pm] Yeri: !!!!!!!!

[12.18pm] Yeri: ____ i s2g

[12.18pm] ____: well good morning to you too

[12.19pm] ____: you were dead to the world

[12.19pm] ____: i called you at least eight times and dropped you multiple texts

[12.19pm] ____: why are you coming at me this way huh

[12.19pm] ____: anyway i told dong in to postpone

[12.19pm] Yeri: ok oK too much shouting for this hungover bij

[12.19pm] ____: yeri it’s all over text…

[12.20pm] Yeri: typing in caps makes it shout in my head alrite

Yeri’s drama queen antics are truly one of a kind. It has you rolling your eyes, but you smile. Well now that she’s awake, you figured lunch and a hangout could substitute for your cancelled brunch plans. And of course, hungover Yeri is always in need of tender loving care. Your grocery shopping plans can always wait.

[12.20pm] ____: anyway your personal postmates is on its way to you so ‘hungover bij’ had better be grateful

[12.20pm] ____: see you in 20

[12.20pm] Yeri: ok i take it all back I LOVE YOU YOU’RE THE BEST

You get to Yeri’s place and it’s unexpected but not surprising that Soo-eun’s the one who opens the door to let you in. It makes sense, a weekend hangout would simply be incomplete without her. Plus, the task of nursing your hungover friend is not something to be taken on alone.

"Soo-eun!" You wrap an arm around her in greeting, which she returns.

"Hey, ____," she responds. "Yeri’s in the shower but she should be out soon."

"How bad is it?" you ask, releasing her and heading to the kitchen.

Soo-eun trails after you. "It’s been worse. And food will make her hangover better."

"It’s a good thing you’re here. We need your voice of reason to mediate the dumbass squabbles hungover Yeri and my impatient ass will undoubtedly get into."

Soo-eun simply laughs at your antics, shaking her head. She's well-accustomed to her role as peacemaker by now.

Another voice rings through the kitchen area where you stand with Soo-eun. "Wow, the disrespect! Breaking and entering into my house to gossip about me?"

Yeri enters, her usual bouncy ringlets now hang limp and wet, creating a damp spot over her chest where it sticks to her oversized t-shirt. In contrast to her usual self, hungover Yeri forgoes style for comfort.

"Case in point," you say. Before Yeri can bite back a response, you interject with a raise of the takeout bag in your hand.

"Hmph. I will forgive you this time. But only because you come bearing peace offerings."

"Only because you think with your stomach, you mean."

"Okay my hungover brain doesn’t want to argue anymore. Just want food."

With that, the three of you are crashing on the couch while Yeri takes liberal bites of her burger. The fries get split amongst you, picked at sporadically between your playful gossiping.

The upcoming exhibition- that's opening in a week, wow, where did all that time go?- is a pretty big one, and the three of you have been slogging it out for months now. At this stage of the project, having a weekend to kick back and relax has become a true rarity. It makes you treasure the time together even more.

But in that vengeful manner that time seems to get when you're enjoying yourselves, the afternoon slips by when it feels like it's barely even begun. Outside the looming windows of Yeri’s loft apartment, the sun is beginning to set. The tv is playing but it’s the equivalent of a murmur, just ambient noise as the three of you soak in the coziness of physical closeness.

None of you wants to shatter the quiet calm that has settled in like a blanket over you, but someone has to. And that someone is you.

You lift your head from where it rests on Soo-eun’s shoulder. Your light jostling causes Yeri to lift her head from where it lays on your lap.

You sigh. "I’ve procrastinated grocery shopping for the entire day. And the fridge isn't getting any fuller the longer I stay."

Yeri whines and plops her head back down onto your lap, pressing down forcefully to keep you from getting up.

"Or we could all go to the store together," Soo-eun says. Yeri's head pops up at the suggestion.

"Idea! Let's go!" she says, scrambling up from her reclined position across the couch. "You brought me Arby’s, it’s only fair I do groceries with you."

You turn to Soo-eun, but she’s replying before you can even ask. "I suggested it, of course I’m ok with it."

"Fine," you huff, but they both know it’s feigned annoyance. All three of you are as clingy to each other as the next is. "You can come along. But we’re only buying the necessities. Only. Necessities."

Your basket is full of non-necessities thrown in by Yeri. You really should have made a shopping list.

While Yeri is busy perusing the next aisle, Soo-eun removes the bags of chips Yeri had thrown in (because ‘this is a necessity! You never have any snacks when we crash at your place, I’m just thinking ahead for our future hangouts!’) and places them back on the shelf it came from. You smile at her gratefully.

Yeri returns with another armful of snacks.

"Yeri," you groan. "I came for fresh produce, not this. I already had an overripe tomato for breakfast. I’m not up for eating junk food as sustenance for the rest of the week."

"Well you could have had a nice fresh meal if you didn’t skip out on brunch. Poor Dong-In, I can’t believe you cancelled brunch with him."

"Hm," you say, walking ahead down the grocery aisle, "if you feel so bad for Dong-In, maybe you shouldn’t have overslept on us then."

Yeri chases after you to dump the snacks in your basket. "You could have just gone without me. He’s a nice guy, y’know."

"No way, that would be too awkward. What would we even talk about? We’re so different."

"You’ve only met him twice. Who knows? Maybe he belts out Broadway songs in the shower just like you and you can finally find the Phantom to your… Opera."

Walking just behind the two of you, Soo-eun’s laughter, though hastily masked by a cough, could be heard.

"It’s Christine. And if you’d watched the musical, you would know not to wish Phantom on anyone," you say.

"Whatever! I’m just saying, it takes more than two meetings to know someone. Give him a chance, ____."

"Wait." You freeze mid-step. You turn to Yeri. "Are you trying to set me up with Dong-In?!"

Yeri’s eyes roll in exaggerated exasperation. When she’s done, she folds her arms and her body language sends a loud and clear, "Duh."

You frantically pull your phone out from where it sits in the pocket of your jeans. Swiping quickly to read your text conversations with Dong-In in the light of this new information, you’re absolutely mortified by your lack of awareness and worried if you’ve come off as brash in your ignorance.

"Does he know? Am I the only one who’s unaware?!"

This time, it’s Soo-eun that pitches in. "Even as a third party, it was pretty obvious Yeri was trying to matchmake you two. So… sorry, ____, but it’s just you."

You sputter.

"It’s alright. Your obliviousness is part of your charm," Yeri says.

"And," Soo-eun cuts in before you can retort, "you have no obligation to feel anything for Dong-In. So if you’re not interested in him that way, you just aren’t."

Yeri huffs, but agrees. "She’s right. But- now that you’re finally aware- give him a chance alright?"

As it turns out, you never get to give Dong-In that chance. With the exhibition launching in less than a week, it's a crazy sprint to the finish-line, and your days are simply too packed to think about anything other than preparing for the exhibition.

The exhibition itself has a short lifespan- it'll be open to the public for a relatively short period of six months.

But accompanying it is a series of open lectures meant for public education of the arts. Yeri, who is simply amazing at patron relations, managed to rope in guest lecturers for the next few months. But the museum thought it would be an excellent idea to have one of their own resident curators to helm the first of the series of lectures.

And it was an excellent idea. Just not for the curator who had to take it on. And that curator would be you.

Sitting in the first row of seats in the auditorium, you try your best to refrain from looking back. You can hear the buzz of the audience behind you as they stream in. It sounds like a sizable amount of people. Looking back would only spook you out further, so you focus your attention on the index cards in your hands, running through your main points again and again.

You take a deep breath in, and heave it out in an attempt to release the anxiety built up in your chest. A warm hand gently pries your right hand’s nervous grip off your index cards.

"____," Soo-eun says. She's smiling assuredly at you when you look up at her. "You'll be great."

From your left, Yeri gives your shoulder a light shove. "Yeah. You've got this, girl!"

"We've seen the amount of effort you've put into this. It'll pay off," Soo-eun says.

Their words breathe a deep sense of confidence in you. After all, they're the ones who had to bear with your stress and they're the witnesses to consecutive late nights you've pulled in the office to get your script and slides done. This particular iteration of the script was a product of not just your work, but their benevolence and hard work too at editing and proofreading.

Squeezing Soo-eun's hand in yours in a bid to get rid of the jitters, you nod at them.

"We've got this," you say.

The clock hits time and you walk on stage, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other and focusing on not- oh god forbid- tripping over your heels. The nerves are still present as you take your place at the podium, but you ignore the way your hands tremble ever so slightly.

You greet the audience, capturing their attention, and begin your presentation. And as you begin talking about your subject matter- the topic you've spent months researching and studying- the nerves melt away and your passion begins to take center-stage in your mind instead.

You're so immersed in the topic that you're just going and going, and soon enough you've reached the end of your script and the ‘Q&A’ slide is up on screen. Applause fills the auditorium, and you smile, genuinely pleased that people seem to have enjoyed your presentation. In the corner of your eye, you see Yeri cheering, and Soo-eun shoots you two thumbs-up.

"Thank you." You bow slightly. "I'll open the time up to the floor. If anyone has any questions, you may feel free to ask them now."

You scan across the auditorium, looking out for questions, when-

Time freezes in that way it always seems to whenever your eyes meet. Seated somewhere in one of the middle aisles but off to the right of the auditorium, long limbs crossed one over the other in his black slacks, Namjoon's eyes are wide as yours catch on him as if encountering a snag.

Oh. My. God. What is he doing here?

Peeling your eyes off him, you skim across the room again. Thankfully, a few hands are raised now and you take their questions, offering yourself a means of escape. But your attention is split and it takes intentional effort as you forcibly will yourself to look at anything but him.

"Okay, I'm afraid that's all the questions we have time for. But I'll be around with some of the other curators for a couple more minutes if anyone has any other questions about the exhibition," you say, gesturing to Yeri and Soo-eun, who wave at the public.

As the audience disperses, you walk off stage, hoping he'll just quietly leave.

No such luck, apparently. From your peripheral vision, you see him coming over as a few other members of the public come up to you to thank you for your lecture.

"Hey," he says, and the familiarity of his warm tone hits you like a punch in the gut, "um, you did a really good job today."

As if your break up hadn't happened the way it did, as if the numerous awkward encounters hadn't taken place, as if it didn't hurt you right now just seeing his face properly after all these years, you put up a front. You smile at him diplomatically.

"Thanks," you say. Your tone is kept even, professional. "How did you find it?"

"It was great, really. I've come to a couple of the museum's exhibitions, but this is the first lecture I've attended."

"Yeah, it's a new thing we decided to introduce for this particular exhibition."

"It's great, yeah. Gives more depth and insight to the art pieces and really makes the whole thing come alive when you see it from the curator's perspective."

You nod. "Nice. That was our intention."

"Anyway," he pauses and runs a hand through his hair self-consciously, "how have you been? It's been a long time."

You bite back the scathing remark that sits on the tip of your tongue. It's almost too enticing to finally let him have it after the years of torment he'd caused you after your break up. The torment that still lives in you, muted under layers of numbness that you've buried it under. Did he even feel the pain in the same measure that you did?

"I'm good." You're tempted to leave it at that. But there's just something in his eyes, something... like a plea? that makes it impossible for you to be cold to him the way your past self imagined you would be. "I've been living in the city for a couple of years now. I'm working in the museum as a curator, as you can see, and yeah, life has been good for me."

Before you can stop yourself, you find yourself reciprocating his question. Ultimately, you can't deny your burning curiosity at what he's been up to. "What about you? How have things been for you?"

"I finally got published a few years back," he says, and you nod as if this is new information to you. Truth is, on your summer break back home that year, your eavesdropping ways had brought the news to you as you heard Hoseok congratulating him on his breakthrough. He laughs lightly. "My life has kind of just revolved around writing, getting inspiration from different sources to write, then writing more. If it sounds really mundane, it's because it is."

"No way." You shake your head. "You're living your dream, Namjoon. Wasn't it always your ambition to be a published author?"

You regret it almost immediately, bringing up the past. Anything to do with the past is dangerous territory. Hell, having a conversation with him that's more than just polite small talk about cursory topics devoid of personal details and emotions (i.e. a conversation like this one) is dangerous territory.

He murmurs something, and you’re certain you mishear him. "You remember."

"Pardon?"

"No, I was agreeing with you. Yeah, it is."

In the background, your slides click off, and it pulls you out of your conversation with Namjoon.

"I think I've gotta go," you say, pointing to the podium where Soo-eun collects your belongings. "My friends are waiting for me."

"Oh!" Namjoon says, turning to look at where you're pointing. "Yeah, don't wanna hold you up any longer. Thanks for your time today."

He turns to go, and you can't help the nagging discomfort at the way things are left hanging between the two of you.

"Hey!" you call. He turns back. "Do you want to do dinner? Hoseok is coming out for the weekend, so do you want to hang out, the three of us? We're going to the diner two streets down from here."

Funny. Didn’t you avoid this diner to avoid Namjoon the last time? Again, it seems the fates truly have a sense of humor.

Namjoon's eyebrows raise in surprise, but it's momentary and quickly replaced as his features soften into a grateful smile. His dimples appear and you hate how, even after all these years, it still has the power to wring your heart out.

"That sounds really nice, actually," he says.

"Is seven ok for you?"

"Seven’s good. I'll see you and Hoseok then."

"See you," you say and he nods. This time, he turns to go for real.

As you watch his retreating figure, you wonder if you really made the right choice, opening the door for him to re-enter your life after all these years.

[thehowlinthenight]

could you recommend me some wolf star coffeshop AU fics (preferably not super short ones)

Hey anon!

I love coffee shop AU!!! I was so excited when I saw this in my inbox!

I’ve ordered them by length, no super short ones! (I class super short as under 5k)

Longer Coffee Shop AU Fic Recs

I Like You, a Latte.

moonysiriusly | Not Rated | 6,537 words

Remus Lupin works in a coffee shop so he can pay for his tiny apartment, stupid car and hundreds of vinyl records and cardigans.His job is fairly boring and straight forward until one day where he falls asleep on the job and is awoken by a complete stranger who looks like he’s just returned from modelling for hot topic clothing. None other than Sirius Black. Sirius Black thinks he’s punk rock when really he just has the biggest crush on the dork who owns ‘Moony’s Coffee’ and orders the worst drinks in order to try and impress the cute barista 'Memus’…James Potter thinks the whole ordeal is stupid and he just wants his pumpkin spice lattes.

Surprise Me

Justagirlclueingforlooks | Teen and Up | 6,844 words

Sirius Black has woken up with a headache, an assignment and a craving for coffee. He gets dressed, beanie and all, and goes downstairs to the Costa and it’s so packed you can’t even see the bar. So he trudges over the snow to “The Leaky Cauldron”. He walks in and orders a coffee. And guess who’s serving him? A super cute, blonde bartender and he looks like he got dressed in the dark and doesn’t own a hairbrush.

The Midnight Man

momstiel | Teen and Up | 7,014 words

Shift almost over? Check.Chairs on tables? Check.Counters cleaned and floors swept? Check.Strange figure lurking outside the shop? … Check?

Or, the story of how one nameless face waltzes into Sirius Black’s life and turns everything from a midnight nightmare to nothing short of a Harlequin romance novel.

Latte Art

imparfait | Teen and Up | 8,073 words

Sirius buries himself under dreams and words on paper.  Until Remus, at least.

Once In A Blue Moon

RedLikeLithium4 | Teen and Up | 8,490 words

Coffee Shop/University AU: Remus Lupin is a barista working at the Blue Moon Coffee Co. Sirius Black, or “Padfoot” apparently, is the hot guy who keeps stopping in, and Remus is the asshole who keeps spelling his name wrong.

Constellations and Coffee

AisForAlex | Explicit | 15,469 words

Remus Lupin is the attractive proprietor of a twenty four hour coffee shop. Sirius Black is the beautiful musician he falls for.

Fractured Skies

LadyFaceElana | Mature | 18,202 words

Two worlds collide.  Deaf artist Sirius Black works at his best mate’s cafe.  Remus Lupin is an epileptic student from France who is just looking to get by unnoticed.  But the artist sees something he wants in the shy boy, and makes it his mission to see what makes Remus tick.

Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish

BlueAzalea | Teen and Up | 30,075 words

Remus hated being addicted to caffeine. On top of the withdrawal headaches and jumpiness if he drank too much coffee, it was causing him to pine like sixteen-year-old boy. And he was an adult –Yes Dora 'real adults’ carry chocolate on them at all times– and adults do not pine. Adults go on dates. But how do you know if its a date or not?

Or Remus is a teacher. Sirius owns a coffee shop. And neither know what qualifies a date as a date.

Something Just Like This

shadow_prince | Teen and Up | 39,442 words

Remus Lupin likes the safety of the routine life he built for himself. He likes his job, he likes his little apartment with the plants he can never manage to keep alive, and he likes grading his papers at the local hipster-esque coffee shop down the street where he can blend into the crowd and surreptitiously steal glances at the unfairly attractive baker.

Except one morning, there’s no crowd to blend into when he’s caught snickering at the web of well-meaning lies the other man walks face first into.

(I’m super bad at summaries. It’s a fake dating modern AU where Sirius has been telling Mrs. Potter he’s dating someone for 9 months and she demands his “boyfriend” comes on their family vacation. Queue: shenanigans between wolfstar and jily as they lie their asses off.)

Matching Wavelengths

allofthatblood | Explicit | 102,125 words

Coffee shop au set in present time. Sirius, James, and Lily, friends since childhood, manage and own a coffee shop together. Remus is just the high school kid who wanders in every afternoon, catching Sirius’ eye. This is the story of how empathy, understanding, responsibility, and a lifetime of similarity easily trump an age gap, and of how romance may not fix the broken, but the friend you find in a partner sure will help.

Blends

rvltn909 | Mature | 176,605 words

Words got in the way sometimes, but Remus got the sense Sirius knew what he was trying to say.

-

Another coffee shop au.

Enjoy!

[your-high-lady]

Realisation

Summary: This story is about Feyre. She has a couple of small dreams she wants to achieve but turns out it isn’t as easy as she imagined it would. Trust me, the story is better than the summary. Modern AU. Feysand.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8  Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or anything. All credit goes to Sarah J Mass. I only own the plot.

Chapter 14: They Talk

The next morning, my alarm woke me up at 7 AM and I picked up my phone to find a text from Rhys: Okay. Where do wanna meet? What time? After yesterday's partying Rhys had decided to let everyone have a sleep in but with the warning that we had to be ready by 11 AM because we would need to leave by then if we wanted to get back to Stanford at a reasonable time.

Do you want to get breakfast now? At the cafe across the road?

The reply came almost instantly. Sure. Be there in fifteen.

I scrambled out of my bed and into the shower. I washed my hair twice and went over my body with soap twice, too. I tried curling my hair a little, but it took me only two minutes to give up on that. I could feel summer approaching. The nights were warmer, the mornings less chilly. Today, the sky looked nice and blue though it was still a little cold so I decided to wear some loose, light jeans paired with a button-down shirt with thick white and blue stripes, leaving the top two buttons open, and threw a light brown coat over it to ward of the slight chill in the air. It was conservative but sexy enough that there was a chance Rhys would like it. Because I did want him to like it. I wanted him to notice me. I couldn't deny that to myself anymore. I wanted him to look at me and think I was pretty.

Finally happy with my appearance, I left a small note for Mor, beside a glass of water and some Advil, and quietly left the room. The small cafe wasn't packed and it didn't take long for me to find Rhys. His back was to me and he was standing in front of a magazine stand, making me think he was reading one. I took in the opportunity to just look at him while he was distracted. He was wearing a light sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His pants were light brown. And then unintentionally, my gaze drifted down. To his ass. The jeans were tight, showing it off and no matter how much I wanted to take my eyes off him, I couldn't. My mouth watered at the sight of him and I had to take a deep breath in before I was finally able to blink my eyes, taking my gaze off his ass. Before I could do anything else stupid, I quickly went up to him and gave him a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled when he saw me. I gave him a small smile back as he said, "Good morning Feyre." I was glad he didn't make it awkward or anything. I don't know what I would've done if he had.

"Good morning Rhys," I replied to him, my smiling growing and becoming more confident.

He led me to one of the smaller tables, where the seats were single couches. Taking my coat off for me, he hooked it over the back of my chair and seated me down, like a true gentleman. He fetched a couple of menus before returning and giving one to me and taking his seat. "Did you want to order first, or talk? Assuming that's what you called me here to do?" His voice was so nice and smooth, and it made me feel like everything would be alright if we were together.

I smiled and said, "Breakfast first, please, if you don't mind." I was very hungry and needed the extra few minutes to get my thoughts in order. We quickly chose our meals before he placed the order. While we waited he let me take control of the conversation. I started with some easy stuff, just telling him how much I'd enjoyed the week and how much I appreciated all he'd done for me and stuff like that. Soon our food arrived. I watched as the waitress set down our coffees and seconds later brought our meals. I was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy when I noticed how her eyes hung on Rhys. She was obliviously stunned by his beauty but he looked oblivious. He gave her a polite thank you before turning back to me, expecting our conversation to go on. I stayed silent as the waitress left, disappointment clear on her face. Once she was out of my line of sight, I turned back to him. Rhys had already dug into his simple BLT and was sipping on his cappuccino, time to time, while I stared at my plate stacked with pancakes, lots of bacon, syrup and banana, and a pumpkin spice latte.

Dismissing all my thoughts related to the waitress, I, suddenly not feeling so hungry, moved the food around my plate. Rhys, of course, noticed and raised an eyebrow in question. "Not hungry."

I hesitated before replying, "Did you not notice?"

"Notice what?"

"You know what."

He smirked. "No, I don't."

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, you do. You know she was looking at you. I know you do."

His smile grew. "Is our Feyre darling jealous?" I gulped, my heart pausing for a beat at his words. Feyre darling.

"Don't call me that." I snapped.

"Why not, Feyre darling?" I huffed in frustration and angrily took a couple of bites of my pancakes.

A few more beats of silence passed before I finally blurted out, "About yesterday." He opened his mouth to speak but I interrupted him, "No, let me finish." He nodded, putting down his cutlery and giving me his full attention. I made sure to hold his gaze as I said, "Did you like it? The kiss?" Straight to the point. He stared at me, sucking in a deep breath, perhaps deciding whether or not I could handle his answer, before nodding as he exhaled. I let out a sigh, realising I'd been holding my breath in anticipation of his answer. "I'm sorry. About what I did. I hadn't meant to flinch away and I promise it wasn't because of you." I paused. "Well, it kind of was you, but not you, if you know what I mean?" He gave me a sympathetic shake of the head, his expression telling me that he had no idea what I was talking about. I gulped. "It was what you did," I told him clearly. "Your hand came over my throat. It's a soft spot."

"Why?" I heard him ask softly, hesitantly.

I sighed, disappointed in myself. I wanted to tell him so badly, but I just couldn't get the words out. I could visualise it so clearly. I could see the words perfectly in my head as I spoke them to Rhys, but when it was time my voice refused to come out. My throat locked up, my muscles tensed.

I felt tears escape the corners of my eyes as I looked down, covering my face with my hands. I was broken. Dagdan and Tamlin had together shattered my spirit and I was exhausted of putting myself back together. I didn't want to do it anymore if it meant that I would always be haunted by the memories of that night. They were branded to back of my eyes; I couldn't rid myself of them.

And then I felt the warmth. I worked through the automatic flinch that I usually did when someone, especially a male, touched me. Once I was pretty sure I wouldn't flinch, I let myself think about other things.

Rhys was hugging me.

As if reading my thoughts, his arms dropped down from around me, his eyes becoming hooded, seemingly second-guessing his actions. He had moved to crouch next to me and as I stared at him, I thought about just how much I loved being in Rhys's arms. How warm and safe I felt.

I put a hand against his cheek, seeking the same warmth, and he leaned slightly into it, his eyes closing. I kept my hand there for a couple of seconds before dropping away. I sighed again, my head going back down. I could sense Rhys's gaze on me, desperately wanting my reply, so I took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you. I want to but I just… can't." He nodded in understanding, giving me a little sad smile, "Some other time maybe."

"Some other time," I replied just as softly as him. He moved back to his seat and because of who he was, or maybe because he just wanted to get rid of the stale air that had surrounded us after all that, he adopted his usual snarky nature, and soon I was crying not from the pain in my stomach, but laughter instead. Around an hour or so later, we got up to leave. Lifting my coat off the back of my chair, I put it on and as I turned to look at Rhys, I found him inches away from me. I gasped, and he gave a smile, showing off his perfect white teeth, and said in his silky voice, "You're beautiful Feyre. Whether you believe or not, you are beautiful."

AN: Hey guys. I hope you like this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it. After the way, the last chapter ended I really needed them to fix things up between them and I'm really happy with the way it turned out. But enough about me. Did you like it? Do you have any feedback, feed-forward or advice for me? I appreciate all of that and love hearing from you, so don't be scared to get in touch with me in any way. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you again next time.

@everything-that-i-love

[animalkingdom-an0nymous]

Technicolor Beat- Part One

A Soulmate AU

Disclaimer: This features an original character by me @animalkingdom-anonymous and all plotlines are original content. Gifs and photos are not mine unless stated otherwise.

Subject: J X Indigo (OC)

“What if soulmates were real? What if there was one person out there for everyone? What if they were halfway around the world? What if they were a mere three miles up the coast?

Growing up, my parents always taught me to believe that soulmates weren’t real. There was no such thing, it was all make believe. I didn’t know any better, didn’t know how to disagree, so I went along with whatever they said.

Maybe it was because my mother was a pill popping lush who never got off the couch.

Maybe it was because my father was a drunken, disgraced cop who constantly reminded me that he never wanted me.

Maybe I was just too scared to disagree with them.

But here’s the thing, soulmates existed. They were a real thing, but I wouldn’t realize or understand that until I was ten years old. Until I found my own soulmate.

Well, technically, I didn’t find anyone. I felt it.

With soulmates, it’s all about proximity. If you’re within fifty miles of your counterpart you can feel them, feel their moods and their emotions. It’s not necessarily a weight that you feel inside yourself, it’s more of a warmth. A sense of not being alone. I felt him, whoever he was, for the first time when I was ten years old and I’d felt him every day since.

Thirteen years later and nothing had changed.

My name is Indigo Parrish and this is my story.

I slung my black Calvin Klein backpack over one shoulder as I bounded up the stairs to my apartment, keys jingling in my hand. It was nearly six and my shift at the cafe ended late thanks to the asshole who decided to spill his large iced latte all over the display case. I smelled like a mix of mocha and coffee beans, in desperate need of a hot shower before I had to meet my best friend, Tiny. We made plans to go to her favorite dive bar and it was somewhere in Oceanside, a town she had become familiar with when she was still heavy into coke and guys that were too old for her.

My phone vibrated in my pocket just as I unlocked the door. I stepped inside and locked it behind me before answering. “Tiny, listen, I’m gonna be a few minutes late. I need to take a shower, I smell like coffee and broken dreams.”

“I love coffee!” My best friend of ten years chirped happily into the phone.

“Nice try, I’m still gonna be late.”

“Boo, you whore.”

I laughed and hung up, undressing as I made my way down the short hall to the closet sized bathroom. Okay, so maybe my apartment was a shithole and maybe I could hear mice scurrying around inside the walls sometimes, but the rent was cheap, my neighbors were quiet, and anything was better than my parents’ house.

My anxiety began to rise just thinking about the two people who brought me into this world and I tried as hard as I possibly could to put a lid on it. I didn’t want him to feel that I was all riled up and upset because, in turn, he would get all riled up and upset. It was Friday, for fuck’s sake. I wanted us to enjoy our weekend even if we weren’t together.

We’d never been together.

However, I knew he was close.

It had been a selling point for the apartment, honestly. The second I stepped foot into the cramped space for the first time he felt closer than ever before. We’d spent a decade feeling each other but it always felt far away. This? My shithole apartment? This was where I could really feel him. Three years later and I never regretted moving in.

Tiny was the only person who knew my soul had found its counterpart. She was the only person I could trust with the information because she was the only person in this world who had my back. She believed in them, but anyone who truly believed in soulmates had to keep it on the downlow. There were some serious anti’s out there who refused to acknowledge that they existed. In fact, some people were so anti that they went as far as killing people who claimed to be soulmates. Just last week I saw on the news that a couple was burned alive in their home in Santa Fe after revealing they believed fate brought them together.

It was a cruel world.

I knew I believed in soulmates when I was ten years old. I’d been at the park by myself, my father too drunk to remember that he brought me there and leaving without me. I’d been sitting on the swings, kicking my legs back and forth when I felt this sudden rush of something inside me. I’d later realize it was adrenaline, but I was so panicked at the time, alone and scared, that I burst into tears. A man had been there with his daughter when he saw me having some sort of nervous breakdown. He’d rushed over, asked where my parents were and, after realizing I’d been left alone, he asked if that was why I was upset.

“No,” I said as I wiped fat tears from my cheeks. “Something’s inside of me. I feel weird.”

The poor guy looked so confused. “What do you mean? Where?”

I hit my hand against my chest three times. “Here. Something’s wrong.”

The man’s face lit up in realization and he started laugh which, in turn, made me cry harder. But that man changed my life. He told me everything about soulmates, about how he had met his when he was fourteen years old and they were still together. He told me all about how they had to keep it a secret, but that it was a good secret because they loved each other.

“Why a secret?” I asked him towards the end of our conversation.

He had lifted his hat off revealing a long, jagged scar that went from his forehead down to his temple. My ten year old self had been terrified, but something resonated with me that day. This man had his face permanently disfigured all because he wanted people to know that he found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. All because he didn’t want to settle. Even at my young age I knew, I knew, my soulmate was someone I needed to protect.

“Not all secrets are bad.” He smiled.

I never saw him again after that, but not a day went by in the last thirteen years that I didn’t think about him. His name was Simon and he changed my life.

I hoped Simon was happy with his wife and daughter.

I hoped someday I could be that happy, too.

Soulmates were a pretty straightforward concept. You could feel what the other was feeling. There was no telepathy, nothing Sci-fi about it. You could just… feel the other one. It was interesting and overwhelming, but the older I got the easier it was to manage. Although I had to admit it was a shock when I realized I could feel him get aroused and even more of a shock when I realized that he could tell when I was, too. It was embarrassing, but there was a part of me that felt as though it was easier knowing I wasn’t going through it alone. He, whoever he was, had to be just as uncomfortable as I was.

Though his emotions were never light I welcomed them anyway solely because I liked the feel of him. Sometimes his sadness and resentment were so heavy it made my chest physically ache. But he had his moments of peace. It never reached the point of happiness, but late at night when I lay in bed I could feel a certain weight lift off me. I wondered if he was asleep, if that was the only time he had any peace and quiet in his life.

Don’t get me wrong, there were days when it was so frustrating I could have screamed. There were days where I dismissed myself as crazy and told myself soulmates weren’t real and it was all in my head. I was just the dumb, crazy little girl my parents told me I was when I was a child.

Those feelings never lasted, though. They were dark, yes, and my mind was probably dangerously twisted from the constant back and forth. But there was always something to pull me back from falling over the edge of sanity. There was always something holding my hand, pulling me back, pulling me towards that warmth again.

It was him. I knew it was.

But I still thought I was crazy sometimes.

After my shower, I was quick to change into a pair of curve hugging jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Nothing fancy considering we were going to a dive bar. Wiping the condensation off the mirror, I looked at my own hazel eyes staring back at me. My long brown hair was pulled up in a loose bun, strands falling and framing my face. My thick brows looked the way they always did… thick, and my plump mouth had nothing more than chapstick on it. After swiping on a bit of mascara, slipping into my white Vans, and grabbing my keys I was good to go.

* * *

“I swear you don’t listen sometimes. It’s like I do all the work and all you do is lay around and smoke weed, and do coke, and fuck around with Renn by the pool. If you’re not here to do exactly what I tell you to, then why are you here at all? Craig, are you listening? Craig?”

I glanced over at my uncle who was zoned out and looking at whatever was playing on the tv. He was always the one who never paid attention in family meetings. I knew Pope would give him a play by play, but this was Deran’s job and Deran’s rules.

He was going to get what he wanted even if he had to sucker punch Craig for it.

It would be a routine job, the same old shit. In and out in under three minutes, ditch the cars, ditch the clothes, take the cash, and go. It was easy enough but going over the basics was smart, especially with Craig who was always too fucking coked out to pay attention.

With Smurf still in prison and Baz dead it was just the four of us. We were making it work pulling easy jobs that brought in quick cash. But it was never a big payoff. There were still bills that needed to be paid and properties that needed to be managed. We needed a serious hit. A big hit. Or else I would fuck everything up and Smurf would be right.

I’d sooner drown in my own fucking blood that ever admit she was right about us.

Hell, I didn’t even like my uncles but I wanted success so bad I could practically taste it. We could do it without her, we had to do it without her.

I shoved my elbow into Craig’s ribs. “Dude, listen the fuck up.”

He turned and glared at me, clearly pissed off that I’d interrupted his tv time. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up, kid?”

I clenched my jaw and cocked my head from side to side, cracking my neck to relieve some of the tension. I couldn’t let my anxiety ramp up, not after feeling hersnot too long ago. I wondered what was bothering her, if she was alright. She wasn’t normally an anxious person, she was actually pretty relaxed most days. I could always feel that warmth in my chest when she was happy and as much as I loved it, it killed me that I couldn’t be there with her. I hated knowing that I wasn’t the one making her happy, but even more than that? I fucking loathed the thought of anyone else making her happy.

You’re her soulmate, I thought to myself as Deran rambled on about money and guns and we had to move quick and keep our heads low. No one will ever make her as happy as you do.

Although there was no way of knowing if I was actually going to make her happy considering I’d never heard her voice or seen her face. But I always liked to imagine what she looked like. I pictured a brunette, someone with an easy laugh, someone that liked the same movies as me.

“Jesus, J, you there? Or did Craig get you into the coke, too?”

I clenched my jaw as my uncle looked down at me with raised eyebrows.

“I’m here, sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

He huffed, moving slowly across the living room as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well, if you’re too tired then maybe you should skip this one, kiddo. I don’t want you to lose any sleep.”

I bit back my temper, grinding my fucking molars. “I said I’m here.”

He clapped his hands together in response. “Great, now where were we?”

After going over the plan three more times we called it a day. Deran needed to head to the bar, Craig needed to pick up Nicky and get more coke, and Pope… went off doing whatever it was that Pope did. I went back to my room, closing and locking the door behind me as I thought about her, wondering if she had a good day. I assumed she did considering how light my chest felt. If it was a good day everything felt light. A bad day? It felt like my bones weighed a ton and there was a weight on my chest.

But today wasn’t a bad day.

I wonder if she felt my temper earlier, I mused silently. As if she could hear and answer my question, warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading over my shoulders and down my arms to the tips of my fingers. I knew she did.

There were times when I didn’t think she could possibly exist. Maybe my family was right, maybe soulmates were bullshit and it was just media propaganda. It was make believe and there was never just one person out there for us. But the older I got the more I believed. Because why else would I wake up in a panic in the middle of the night? Because she was afraid. Why else would I get this strange, bashful, vulnerable feeling in October of every year? Because it was her favorite month, it was her birthday month. It held something significant and I felt it.

She was real, she was out there, and she was waiting for me.

Sometimes she felt so close that I wondered if she was down the street.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, looking down at the ID. It was Smurf. Again. She’d been pushing me to go see her for the last four days but now I was dodging her calls. She was awaiting trial for Javi’s murder, but she just kept saying she would get out. She would come home. Things would go back to the way they were before.

I fucking prayed every day that she was wrong.

“J!” Craig’s heavy footsteps thudded down the hall to my room. “Get dressed, we’re heading to the bar.”

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here. Tired.”

He was already shaking his head. “No way. Come on, man. Smurf turn you into her little bitch boy or do you want to come have a beer?”

Fucking Christ, I thought to myself. It was bad enough living with this fucking family, the last thing I wanted to do was drink with any of them. I just wanted out.

“Whatever. Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

“Five.”

I flipped him off and his laugh echoed down the hallway.

* * *

The bar was crowded. Shoulders were being bumped into and Tiny had her finger wrapped around my belt loop as we headed towards the bar.

“Two shots of Jameson!” I shouted over the overlapping conversations around us.

The bartender was a blonde guy wearing a red velvet shirt. Tiny mentioned earlier that she thought he was cute but he didn’t seem to pay much mind to the petite, raven haired Panama native that was my best friend.

“This is my favorite little place.” Tiny drummed her fingers on the bar and shook her ass to the beat of the music. It was clear that she’d pre-gamed pretty hard before I met up with her, not that I minded. She was the definition of a free spirit.

“That guy from last weekend showed up tonight.” She smiled over my shoulder, her nose crinkling up and making her little diamond stud twinkle in the dim lighting.

Tiny was, of course, referring to the guy (David? Daniel? Dick?) that she met here last weekend. She’d vowed not to exchange numbers with him but told him if she saw him at the bar again she’d let him buy her a drink.

“Looks like it’s my lucky night.” She winked at me. Her brown eyes looked like big saucers as he walked up to us with so much swagger I actually almost gagged. He wasn’t my type and his cologne was way too heavy for my taste, but he was right up Tiny’s alley.

“I believe we had a deal.” He laughed, revealing teeth that were so white they probably could have glowed in the dark. It was seriously like in that episode of Friends when Ross wore the teeth whitener for too long.

“Okay,” I said with an awkward smile. I knew it was my cue to leave and let her have her fun. To be completely honest, I didn’t mind. I was tired, work sucked, and after having a shot or two I would want nothing more than to go home, roll a blunt, and slide into bed. I’d been on my feet since nearly six and, though I wasn’t complaining about coming out and having a good time with my best friend, I was someone who appreciated their alone time.

I was heading towards the exit when all at once it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Slamming my hand against my chest, it felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me and my vision blurred around the edges. It was like nothing I’d ever felt, completely overwhelming, and all at once I knew.

He’s here.

My eyes widened at the realization and I whipped my head around, looking for someone I wouldn’t even recognize. I had no clue what he looked like, who he was, his fucking name. But I could feel him. It was like he was standing right in front of me and I wondered if he felt the same way. Could he feel what I felt? That overwhelming, stifling warmth?

We’d been doing this for thirteen years, unwillingly sharing our emotions and feelings with each other. We’d always been so close yet just out of reach, just far enough away that maybe it didn’t feel completely real. Now? Now he was so close I could almost taste him, so close I could nearly feel his breath on the back of my neck.

I can’t do this.

It felt like too much. It was too much too fast, unexpected. I wasn’t ready to face him, whoever he was. What if he didn’t like the way I dressed or the way I looked? What if I was disappointed with his name or his job? They all sounded like such shallow, trivial things. But the simple truth was that they were basic things that people either accepted or they didn’t.

What if we couldn’t accept each other?

You’re soulmates. Don’t you sort of have to accept each other? It’s in the metaphorical soulmates handbook. My head was swimming and I was confused, anxiety tugging at my heartstrings. Jesus, screw the whiskey. I needed three shots of tequila and a horse tranquilizer.

It could be my only chance at actually seeing him, finding my counterpart, and I was running away with my tail between my legs because I was just too afraid. Shaking my head, I cast my eyes down to the floor as I weaved through the throngs of people in the bar. Some were playing pool, some were dancing, all were loud. My anxiety was making everything feel heightened and I figured if he couldn’t feel me before he could definitely feel me now. My palms were sweating and my temples were pulsating. I just need fresh air. I just need to get outside. My lungs were starting to burn, a panic attack quickly approaching as I shouldered my way through the crowd, eventually making it out the door to the sidewalk.

It was mostly empty aside from a few people milling about. I took a few steps to the edge of the concrete and bent over, placing my hands on my knees while I hauled in a few deep breaths and tried to even my breathing. My heart was beating a mile a minute and I shook my head, wanting to laugh and cry at the fact that I had just bitched out instead of facing him.

The strands of hair that escaped my bun were sticking to my forehead from sweat and I damned myself for wearing jeans instead of shorts.

What a shitshow this turned out to be, I thought with a humorless chuckle. I come out with my best friend and the night ends in a full blown meltdown. What was more embarrassing than that? I honestly figured the poor bastard was better off without me, I was clearly borderline certifiable and couldn’t even go out to a bar without feeling like I couldn’t breathe.

Eventually, after my heart rate slowed and my breathing returned to normal, I straightened up and rolled my shoulders a few times to relieve some of the tension. It was time to call it a night and I turned on my heel, preparing to walk for a few blocks, get some fresh air and then eventually hail a cab home.

I took two steps forward, my Vans scuffing against the broken concrete when someone stepped directly in my line of vision, blinking at me from a few feet away. He was a few inches taller than me, sandy hair curling just slightly at the ends and a navy blue sweater covering his upper half. His jaw was distinct, his shoulders broad, and he had eyes that reminded me of the ocean; stormy, dark, trouble looming just under the surface.

It was him. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. I could feel it in my core. I was standing in front of my soulmate and he was looking right at me, our expressions mirroring the other’s.

“You.” The word was barely audible, coming from low in his chest.

You. This. Us.

[big-hero-six-lover]

Talk To Him!

Pairing: Tadashi x Reader

Word Count: 1218

AU: Tadashi’s Alive

Summary: The handsome young man behind the cash register has always fascinated her. Her friends finally force her to talk to him.

Athena and Tadashi’s first conversation!

 Sitting in my usual spot, in the same cafe as I have for the past six months, I look over the rim of my big green coffee mug, sipping my cocoa as Meadow sits to my left, her blonde hair piled in a messy bun on her head, drinking her latte, debating with Riley across from her, to my right. Riley’s brown locks are plaited down her back, she’s got one headphone in, and is sipping on a cappuccino as they discuss superheroes and their powers. “Please, Ant Man could dismantle Tony Stark’s suit before he even knew what hit him.”

 “No way!” Riley denies. “Ant Man’s got way too big of a mouth to keep quiet, and undetected. Tony more than likely built internal defenses- I mean, who knows when the Avengers would need to fight super small creatures or whatever!” I watch the raven-haired young man behind the counter straighten his cap, his little brother comes from the back with trays full of muffins, and the young man, our age, pat his brother’s head as another customer walks up to the counter.

 “We can at least agree that Cap would beat Tony, right?” Meadow asks.

 “Totally, without the suit, Tony’s powerless.” Riley states, causing Meadow to gape a bit.

 “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t say powerless.” Meadow rolls her eyes. “Just, ya know, this multimillionaire, with super advanced brain power, and a powerful weapon technician.”

 “Oh, please, without his daddy’s money, Tony would be just another geek, working on an empty wallet, broken dreams, and living out of a basement. Am I right, Athena?” Riley pauses. I watch the young man hand the customer a to go bag, and cup, smiling friendly. “Athena?”

 “Hellooo?” Meadow waves her hand in front of my face. “Athena!” I jump, snapping my head to over to look between the two of them.

 “Huh? What?” I ask, they share those annoying identical looks.

 “Why don’t you go talk to him?” They ask in unison, causing me to frown.

 “Why would I do that? I mean… T-Talk to who now?” I stumble over my words, causing Meadow to roll her eyes.

 “Look, the only reason we even come here, other than the fact that it’s got good food and drinks, is so you can stare at the hot guy at the cash register.” Meadow states.

 “Talk to him.” Riley insists, suddenly he looks over at us as I duck my head, blushing.

 “Hell, if you don’t talk to him, I’ll go over there, and ask him out myself.” Meadow threatens.

 “Don’t you dare!” I snarl under my breath, watching the young man turn to the counter off to the side of the register, and start to stack muffins in the glass display case.

 “Then hop to it.” Meadow answers, causing me to quickly drain the rest of my cocoa as I stand, using my index finger to slide my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and take my cup up to the counter, stopping once I get up there. Setting my cup down, I tug on my sleeves nervously as I wait for the guy to turn around, as soon as he looks up as he turns, the empty trays in his hands clatters to the floor, causing us both to jump in surprise.

 “I got it!” The young man’s brother says, swooping in to snatch up the mess of trays on the floor, while the young man rubs the back of his neck, I notice his brother giving him a strange look out of the corner of my eye, and the young man chuckles nervously.

 “Sorry,” His voice is gentle, wise, caring. “I- I mean, I hadn’t heard you, o-or seen you come over.”

 “I-I-It’s a-alright.” I stammer out, clearing my throat as I duck my head with another blush.

 “So, what can I get you?” He asks, he seems to be carefully picking each word, with extra thought.

 “Oh, I j-just- can I h-have some more Cocoa… please.” I breath out the last word as a last minute thought.

 “Cocoa! We make cocoa!” I notice his brother facepalming off to the side. “I mean, yes, my brother Hiro will get you some more cocoa.” He smiles at me. “I’m Tadashi, by the way. Tadashi Hamada.”

 “Nice to meet you, “Tadashi Hamada”, I am Athena Beckett.” I greet with a shy smile as his brother sweeps in to grab up my cup. I notice that he nudges his older brother, clearing his throat before disappearing into the back, I look over at my shoulder at my two friends, who giggle as they hurriedly look away, Riley is hiding her face behind her red mug, and I turn back to Tadashi as I slip my purple headband further back into my black hair.

 “You have a pretty face! I-I mean name!” His cheeks turn bright red. “Not that your face isn’t pretty, or anything- I mean I just thought that your name was nice, but I-I-your name isn’t as pretty as your face. Oh! But you have a really nice name too!” He face plants into his hand, a irritated sigh rips from his mouth, before he glances up at me, a nervous smile coming to his lips. “I mean to say, it’s a very nice name.” I blink at him, my lips stretch into a bright smile, and I tilt my head with a soft laugh.

 “Thank you!” I state, watching as his eyes widen, his face turns red, and when he opens his mouth to speak, he’s interrupted by his brother.

 “Here ya go! One Cocoa!” Hiro says, setting my cup on the counter, the mocha colored drink has whipped cream and chocolate shavings on the top, cinnamon stick sticks out the side as I smile one more.

 “Ah, thank you.” I take my mug, turning around to walk back to my table, smiling as I hear the two boys whispering behind me.

 “So?” Hiro asks.

 “What? We talked for like a minute!” Tadashi answers, causing Hiro to groan.

 “You’re hopeless.”

 “Hey, knucklehead!” I find myself laughing as I settle back into my seat, my two best friends staring at me, waiting for a report as I carefully set my mug on the table, glancing at the cash register to see Tadashi looking at me, our eyes meet momentarily as he smiles, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck. I drop my gaze to the cocoa, a blush upon my cheeks.

 “So?!” Meadow urges, causing me to laugh, glancing back at Tadashi, before dropping my gaze once more.

 “You are so smitten!” Riley giggles, causing me to slap her arm.

 “Shut up!” I scoff, my lips twitch into a small smile, before Meadow and Riley exchange looks, before looking back at me.

 “Spill it!” Meadow insists.

 “Nothing happened! We exchanged names, and his brother got me more cocoa. That’s it!” I explain, blushing.

 “Athena!” Riley groans.

 “You’re hopeless!” Her sister complains, causing me to laugh, looking at my friends.

 “I’m not upset with my progress, guys. It’s just infatuation, it’ll pass!” They both roll their eyes, sighing as I shake my head, lifting my cocoa to take a sip, my eyes flicking back up to the handsome boy behind the counter, and he smiles at me.

[chenziee]

Do you have any ereri fic recommandation? I read the 6th ward yesterday (and I'm still slowly moving on, it was so sad ;-; but in a weird way it made me accept Sasha's death in the manga more easily, and it's all good), so preferably a long one please. Thank you for being awesome!

Aaahh, thank you ;__;

Hmm, I have a few fic recs but I’m not sure what you have and haven’t read so I’ll just throw in whatever has stuck with me through all these years and I can think of off the top of my head meaning these might be fics that have been recced a million times over already because they are good. If you want more/something else, let me know :)(On that note, I’d like to direct you to @fuckyeahererifanfic who have a large and beautifully categorized database of ereri fic to fit any specific needs

I’m only going to link COMPLETED fics, because I tend to only read those AND I have a particular track record of fics being abandonded after I pick them up and now have trust issues but if you want some in-progress fics, I can rec some too.

The Little Titan Cafe by @pocketsizedtitan (66k words): Modern, coffee shop AU and the cutest thing.

Just another cliche AU in which Eren works as a barista in his mother’s café, specializing in latte art. And then there’s Levi, who’s not exactly your typical patron, because, well, he’s blunt and rude (which Eren supposes isn’t that much different from regular customers) but mostly he just confuses Eren’s poor little homosexual heart. 

Nuthatch (31k words) and the sequel Sparrow (116k words) by @sugarplum-senpai Canonverse. Pining and slow burn at it’s finest. All I’m going to say about it.

After the war has ended, Levi finds himself thrown into coerced retirement. With nothing but time on his hands, he buys an old house, and throws himself into renovation work to fulfill himself an old, almost forgotten dream: opening a tea shop. If only he could forget about expressive, green eyes and a smile like sunshine. Luckily, he’s still got Hanji.

[Prequel to “Sparrow”]

After the war has ended, Eren’s life is finally good. He’s seen the ocean, is back at HQ where he trains the new Scouts, and he has dinner with Levi every single night. So yes. Things are just as well.

[Sequel to Nuthatch | can be read as stand-alone work]

The Old Boat House by @oppa86oppa (102k words): Modern/fantasy AU, Levi is a merman (fitting to read during mermay no?) Has some andgst and some fluff, a bit of everything, really.

One night after Eren and his friends share a bottle of whisky, two bottles of whatever Annie brought and a couple of ghost stories, they walk the path along the gravel road, through the wheat field and past the small forest and stumble upon the old boat house. Inside they find something that’s sleeping on the bottom of the lake, someone clearly not human. One of them comes up with the idea they should catch it, probably fucking Jean, and in their surprise they actually succeed. However, in mere seconds the situation is suddenly turned completely upside down.

Eren doesn’t fall into the water, he doesn’t jump, he’s pulled down.

Art of War by catsonfire(53k words): Modern AU, fluff and comedy

Noisy neighbors, nursling dinosaurs, satanic box cutters, shitty convenience store management, the word ‘fuck’, hereditary (but not really) homosexuality, beer and ramen, pennies, truckstops, strippers, closets, semi-public defacing, rings, house parties, “recreational” drug use, accidental rendezvous, toxic stew (don’t eat the stew), nice abs, housewives–batteries not included, over-educational movie sessions, copious domesticity, kittens named after landlords, a shit joke at participating locations, and many, many happy endings.A modern AU in which Eren moves into the apartment directly above Levi’s.

Do you want me or do you want me dead? by fmaloser (82k words): Modern not-your-typical-high-school AU. A personal favourite of mine and the amount of kudos is a sacrilage. Although yes, it’s dark. There is blood and gore. The relationship they have is not healthy. Lots of angst. Boys are both broken and break other peoples’ bones, but I love them for it. (Read the tags before reading the fic.)

It’s decided that the school douchebag, Levi, needs a tutor to help get his grades back up. It’s also decided that high school senior, Eren, is perfect for the job.At first, the two hate each other. But after their pasts come back to bite them in the ass, they realize that maybe that’s not the case.

An Unlikely Alliance by @monsoondownpour (117k words) Arranged Marriage Between Waring Kingdoms AU. Everything you want from a good fic.

When Scouting Legions main trading partner, Wall Maria, is experiencing economic strain from constant attacks by the neighboring kingdom Titan, the leaders of the two nations come to an agreement: Scouting Legion will provide military protection in exchange for land and financial aid for the still growing nation.Their new alliance will be sealed with the union of King Jaegar’s son Eren to the Scouting legions strongest soldier, Lance Corporal Levi. But how will the cold, impassive soldier warm to his new husband, who is far from the weak, spoiled princess he was expecting?

Witch’s Vein and Bloodstains by @monsoondownpour (38k words) Fantasy AU. Not that long but so beautifully written it’s unreal. The atmosphere and how it’s delivered is honestly something I aspire to.

In a land of sentient forests and unpredictable magic, it is never wise to venture far without a witch.  

The Survey Corps is in dire need of a replacement after a tragic accident took Ilse’s life in a quest gone horribly wrong. Eren might not be what anyone expected, but he has raw talent and curious allure that even Captain Levi can’t deny. When circumstances conspire to pit the squad against the same adversary that took Ilse barely a year ago, will they be able to handle the challenge a second time round?

Fallen Star @monsoondownpour (31k words) Modern AU. Lots of angst. Actually it’s mostly angst because even the ridiculously fluffy parts hurt. (But spoiler: happy ending, yay!)

Detective Levi Ackerman had his life in order; a steady job he enjoyed, a close circle of friends, and a spitfire little sister who was all the family he could ever want or need. His world was a simple one until ballet prodigy Eren Jaeger stumbled into it.Someone like Eren didn’t belong in his world.Now he wasn’t sure how he would live without him.

Lists by Trick_Fantasy (72k words) College AU. Can be highly triggering for anxiety, there is emotional manipulation, and VERY toxic friendships. It’s about learning to get past all of that. Read at own risk. But it’s an amazing fic and will forever be one of my favourites.

The story of Levi (“Why bother trying to make friends when you can learn to control people instead?”) and Eren (“Because you can control people better when they think that they’re your friends. They don’t even know they’re being manipulated.”) coping with social interaction at college in their own different ways.

Augenfresser by @foxicology (75k words) Modern/Fantasy AU. Horror/Thriller. Deals with heavy stuff, the ending is up for interpretation and known to fuck people up. Be warned.

Monsters did not like to hide under beds, as his father had told him. No; he found the monster hiding in his closet.

Love.exe by @cofferi (70k words) Modern AU. Finishing off with more fluff/comedy so I don’t seem like such a psycho. Definitely a fun read.

All Levi wants to do is drink tea, run his goddamn convenience store, and not have to deal with this kid who keeps coming in to leech his wifi bringing down high-end corporations.

Also literally anything by @sciencefictioness is a sure bet. Just saying.

Also going to take the oppotunity to throw in my own AO3 because why the hell not (although it’s mostly oneshots).

I’m very sure I’m missing some amazing fics and authors but this is what I could think off at 1AM and not make it a mile long post. I hope you find something you haven’t read and that you enjoy these gems anon :)

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.

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Also I can’t help but throw this fic in:

Tinsel Town by TheWonderYears (33k words) Modern AU. Psychotic-murder-boyfriends AU. Seriously. It’s very graphic. Blood, gore, torture, all the fun stuff. I love it. My ultimate fave, always and forever.

There’s Definitely Something In The Water.

Aaaand there goes my ‘I’m not a psycho’ claim.

[narniasummerexchange]

Modern Romanticism

for @little-narnian-notes

Word count: 2423

Summary: Modern!au. You meet Susan at university and your emotions snowball.

The university is beautiful. A roving campus steeped in centuries of history and knowledge. A gorgeous lawn you can imagine yourself studying on in the warmer months and a name and plaque for everything.

Downside? The fact you think you’ve made a grave mistake with your classes for the semester. You can just feel the thousands of dollars gurgling down the drain in the pursuit of intellectual enlightenment. Still, you plough on in the hopes that the next set of classes is better now you know what you don’t want.

You stifle a yawn and frown at yourself. You’ve held off from coffee for this long, but it’s getting to crunch time and there’s no more room for being strong and exercising self-restraint. You need caffeine.

Standing in line at the little cafe down the road, you rub at your eyes as you examine the menu. It’s a fairly average place - cream walls with old mass-produced paintings and stiff wooden chairs with rocky tables that you wouldn’t dream of resting your drink on. The usual or drink of the day, you ponder.

“One medium latte, regular sugar please.”

The voice in front of you sounds nice enough, gently pulling you from your early morning daze. Shifting in your worn jeans, your eyes follow the figure to their bag. The satchel is familiar, with its gold lion badge against warm brown leather. It sits a few rows in front of you in your Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon Intro to Poetics lectures. Someone clears their throat and you leap forward sluggishly to place your own order, coughing out a general apology. You stand aside once you’re done, eyes wandering till they fall on the customer in front of you.

The young woman is devastatingly pretty. Quiet, attentive eyes that seem to fragment light. Feathery lashes that tickle the fainest of freckles, surely earned from summers gone by. A glow to her cheeks and a striking lip colour flawlessly streaked on. If you had some kind of artistic talent, you might have gone on about her for longer. Her order is called and she drops the barista a whisper of a smile with her thanks, leaving you with your inadequate thoughts.

You find out through plenty of coincidence and eavesdropping - a rather bad habit of yours - that her name is Susan. An old school name, but you don’t question it. In fact, it suits her. Sophisticated and timeless.

It’s silly. You’ve never even had a proper conversation with her, why is she suddenly so interesting to you? Now you know she exists, as much as you try to stop yourself, you start seeing her everywhere.

Susan is very keep to herself, despite the many people she knows and enjoys. A spectre that weaves the quad pillars between classes. Long, whispering hair and a glide to her step. It contradicts all of the tidbits that you’ve picked up about her.

Most mornings you see her in the cafe, sometimes with a latte - usually those days entail vibrant makeup, maybe to distract from the long nights - other times with a green tea. You still haven’t introduced yourself during lectures, which you’re fine with - at moment, you’re existing educationally.

When you finally speak, your thoughts by now have gotten away from you and you’ve put this poor girl on a pedestal of beauty and curiosity. The lecturer for poetry - a kind woman who wears flowing tops in kaleidoscope floral, just the type of person you expect to teach such a class - asks for a group brainstorm on romanticism in the 18th century. Your partner in crime, Jonathon is away with the flu, leaving you high and dry on the buddy front. Susan is looking around, till her eyes land on you. She makes a little gesture at you and you nod, pulling your stuff together to move to her.

“Hi, I’m Susan.” She says brightly, holding out her hand.

You utter your own name, firmly gripping your hand. She looks at you, with a glitter to her eyes and a twitch to her pink lips.

“We get coffee around the same time, don’t we?” She drops your usual order.

“That’s about right. I’m surprised you recognised me, seeing as I’m always behind you.”

Both of you laugh at your attempt for humour then get down to it, knowing there’s only a limited amount of time.

Conversation flows easily with her and it’s not a struggle to remember what was said just ten minutes ago when her mind races eloquently and jump starts your own. Between your interpretations of what it all means, to how it’s seen today, ideas bounce back and forth constantly like the ebb and flow of the waves. It’s a little painful when time is called. Still, she smiles at you, the edges of her mouth curling.

You grab her phone number at the end of class, as she assures you that she’ll find you on messenger later. It feels like some sort of victory really.

She messages you the next day, asking if you were up for a party on the Friday. Spontaneous and filled with emojis. Much more like the nuggets of facts you;d heard. You decline though, stating you had too much to catch up on that weekend. Maybe next time, she replies. But, honestly, you’ve never been one for the night life of university. Of the house parties and pub crawls till your eyes fall out and you fall over. You get pictures on her snapchat story of that weekend, her make up sharp and figure flattered in the same kind of red that swirls in her glass. This was more common of her.

Anyway, there’s always still the cafe in the morning. Now you smile when you make eye contact and make brief small talk while you wait. Names pop up here and there, mixed with if only’s and back when’s and you wonder if the people who she’s made these memories with are very far away. You walk in time with one another back to campus and she babbles about what happened on the weekend and about how she wishes her roommate would tone it down on the punk rock for a moment so she can think - or at least share the speaker. She asks you about your days and feelings and that need to look at her blooms again. To take in every single part of her, because there is just so much there to admire.

Nowadays, you meet up to proofread work before handing it in or just to study in general. You excel in Shakespeare and the Elizabethan language - begrudgingly - and she seems to have the hang of everything else. Sitting in the cafe is your new favourite thing, especially in the mornings when the sun isn’t too strong as it filters down the street and into the big glass window the both of you have claimed as your own.

Susan looks at you, warmth rounding her cheeks and pen poised above paper. Her burgundy sweater devours her adoringly but you know from the cut of the fabric that it probably wasn’t hers to start with. “Has anyone told you that you’re quite the romantic?”

You splutter, her lovely aesthetic stationary feeling too pretty for your tactless grip. “P-Pardon me?”

She laughs. It’s not bell-like, but full and soft, like cotton sheets and a cat’s purr. She taps her pen to the spiral-bound notebook pinned under her wrist. You’ve managed to stuff a pie of paper under a table leg so it doesn’t rock and you’re careful not to be the one to kick it.

“Your way with words. It’s long and flowery. But not in a bad way! You just sound like a lovesick teenager about everything. Even coffee if I’m reading this right. There’s a pause and she smiles, turning it from a sharp beam to a glow. "It’s cute.”

Your face feels red and you can’t look her in the eye as you croak out a broken thank you.

It’s just getting to autumn and she’s suddenly gone very quiet. It’s mothers day and you’re both situated in the cafe, comparing notes again on what you suspect to be your own lecturer’s work. Her make up is a bit more subdued and her long hair is tied up off her face in fluffy, slept in waves. She reminds you of your first meeting, the colours de-saturated. She hasn’t done a very good job of hiding her weariness, from the way her nimble fingers tick slowly to the dullness in her eyes.

You clear your throat shyly. “Su, are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

She stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“How come you aren’t at home, though? Didn’t you say that you lived close by?”

If your parents weren’t overseas for their anniversary, you would have made the long trip back home to cook breakfast and dry cupcakes along with binge-watch that murder mystery series you mum adores so much. She nods and shrugs, pulling her hands away from her tea into her lap.

“My parents aren’t very well at the moment. None of my family is. Just before the start of the semester, there was an accident - the train that derailed down by the south tunnel?” You nod for her. “We were all coming back from holiday. I missed the train in favour of one last night at the festival- James was really cute - but the rest of them - my parents, my three siblings, a cousin and a few family friends - went ahead on time. They were all in the front carriage. So at the moment, it’s just me. Everyone else is in hospital. Seriously injured or in a coma.”

You can’t resist the urge to reach out your hand to grip her arm. It jerks her eyes up to make contact with yours.

“How horrible! Su, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you, you know that right?”

She gives a melancholy curl to her lips and nods, twisting her arm to squeeze back. “I know, thank you.”

You make it your mission afterwards to watch over her. Insist on her messaging you when she got home from a night out, even though she was making all her friends do the same to her. Offering a cookie or two in your lectures - warm and just slightly soft in the middle with gooey choc chips, her favourite. Popping up with notions to go out and explore the town. She had been so kind to you before, you felt the need to return the favour.

This is when things went down hill.

You thought you had her on your mind before, not it was borderline obsessive. Not just her well-being, but just her. Did she like what you wrote? Did she know it might have been about her? Susan’s rapid existence had snowballed violently into a full-blown crush. You try your best not to stare at her too much, pressing crescents into your palms to quell the urge to hug her out on the university’s front lawn. She talked more about her family now that her burden was off her chest. How Edmund would read poetry with her, no matter how little patience he had for it. That Peter would we livid she was wearing on of his favourite sweaters out so quickly. Eustace would be prodding Lucy’s innocent buttons, with his best friend Jill holding no loyalties except to women. She hugs you when you part now, her rosy, floral scent surrounding you in a pleasant haze and her silky hair brushing elegantly against your cheek. Oh, if you had a truly creative cell in your body, you would have written great stories of her by now.

Together you sit in her living room, on a well-loved but slightly bowed sofa, some tv series you wanted to binge on playing softly on the screen. Legs innocently tangled and in your most comfy pyjamas, while she whines just a little for the bag of snakes on your other side. She’s devoured the chocolate pretzels you brought around, knowing she would enjoy them. Your insides are coiled tight and your heart thudding out of your chest warmly. You kick the bag aside and turn to face her, still almost shoulder to shoulder. You can’t not say something. Now with how soft she looks and the comfort and perfect familiarity seeping into your bloodstream.

“Let’s go out sometime.”

She blinks at you, argument cut short. “W-What?”

“We should go out sometime. Just us. Like on…on a…a date.”

The tension spikes and thickens like whipping cream. She stares at you, beautiful glowing eyes flashing with the screen. The blanket smells like her, floral but not too strong with a hint of something else underneath. Her freckles stand out under the artificial light and you wonder for half a breath what you must look like to her.

“I really like you, Su.” You take a breath and a moment to gather your thoughts. You don’t want to sound like rom-com, even if you both like them. “You’ve become really important to me since we met and I’d like to try this with you. Know I can make you happy, especially now and be there for you. Hope you feel something. So, can we?”

You lay your hands out on the blanket between you with bated breath, so much so you might turn blue, but you wouldn’t mind. There is a pensive moment where her eyes examine you before she bridges the gap to twine her cool fingers with yours. Her cheeks bloom red and you grin at her, so bright that you can’t see through your lashes.

“I - of course. You’ve been with me in a way most of my other friends haven’t. I’ve - I’ve thought about you a lot. So, yeah. Let’s give this a go.”

The sigh that passes your lips is heavy and your face floods back with colour. Her next action leaves your breath caught in your throat again as one hand slide up your arm to cup a cheek. Eyes bore into you and her narrow nose is a breath away from yours.

“Can I…kiss you?” She murmurs. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we sat down, really.”

You laugh breathlessly. “If you want.”

When her lips press against yours, all your thoughts finally settle so it’s just…Susan.

[bittybattybunny]

was that backstory of hattie's beginning always planed?

Hattie’s origin from another world was planned from the get go yes!

Hattie was always planned to be from another world!

But originally the version of her parents were going to be time travelers; rather a rift walker Eclipse and Ru got pulled along for the ride

Sena was also not the Sena we know; but the Sena from MG but I ended up disliking that tie in. The original version of hattie’s origin is the “Cafe Latte and Broken Dreams” Au I have snippets around on the blog!

[whippedforsuga]

Masterlist

Hello!

I have decided to put together all the links to my fics here for anyone to find :)

fluff-♥️ , Angst -♠️ , Smut- ⚫

One Shots 

Flight Boarding  - G

Jimin x Reader 

964 words 

Waiting to board a Plane can be pretty dull and a little warm. Until your eyes meet with a handsome stranger

Baby you were my picket fence  - G  ♠️

member x hoseok  (hoseok centric) 

1933 words

Its hard to break out of habit, even harder to fix a broken heart.

I miss missing you now and then.

I’ll be You Sweet agony  - M  ♠️  ⚫

Jimin x Original female character, Jimin x Taehyung 

2610 words 

Can you kiss me?

Just one more time. Kiss me like its a lie

Night Calls  - T  ♠️

Taehyung centric

468 words

Nights can be easy. 

Mornings can be hard. 

Cuddle Pile  - G  ♥️ 

OT7 Platonic 

1341 Words

"Looks like we are having a sleep over then!"

"Fuck no, I'm going to my own bed."

"Min Yoongi. We are having a Sleepover."

"Yes hyung."

I’ll take you to the Moon  - G   ♥️  *New*

Jimin x Hoseok

923 Words

Sleep.

Sleep is always something Jimin found difficult.

Sleep is easy when Hoseok is with him.

Coffee Shop Boys (series) 

I have a soft spot for coffee shop Aus

1. Season Specials   - G 

Jin x member

1908 words 

Each season Brings a New Special Menu to Jin’s little Cafe.

Each season brings back the same people

2. Mint hot Chocolate  - T  ♥️

Jungkook x Yoongi 

2770 words, Ch 2/4

jungkook is never one to turn down a bet, even if it was born out of his own stupidity.

He thought the job was for a dull coffee house and he may or may not be head over heels for the head waiter with the mint hair.

But dont tell Jimin or taehyung. He’s not losing this bet.

3. Caramel Frappuccino   - M  ♥️

Jimin x Taehyung 

2011 words 

Jimin was having a shit day.

If he was to mark it on the calendar today would be known as ‘Fuck Park Jimin Day’

Maybe a little coffee will help

4. Double Shot Espresso - T  ♠️

Namjoon x Yoongi 

635 words 

Each morning starts the same, Namjoon has fallen asleep at his desk.

He needs to leave his desk.

He needs coffee.

He needs a fucking break.

5. Pumpkin Spice Latte -T  ♥️

Yoongi x Hoseok 

1171 words 

“hyung what do you want?”

“Something basic, I’m not fussed you pick.”

“One Pumpkin spiced latte as well! Thank you”.

Chaptered Fics

Attention  - M

Jimin x Jungkook x Hoseok 

1558 words, Ch 1/3

His parents have long since given up on their dreams of having a lawyer for a son. What they got instead was one if the countries highest paid strippers.

Jimin wouldn’t have it any other way.

My dearest Doctor - E (major character death)  ♠️  ⚫

Yoongi x All Memebers  

10421 words ch 8/8

Well, they told me to write down my thoughts and feelings in this journal. But I haven’t been able to feel anything for a good few years now.

But my doctor told me to write it all down and I’ll do anything for that man.

I hope you are reading this Doctor.

I would never lie to you.

I’m Only Human  - E  ♠️  ⚫ *newest*

All members

 1691 words , ch 1/10

"God is dead and we've taken his place"

The rise and falls of seven gangsters. Blood is thicker than water, what are you hands wet with?

Updated: 20 June 2018

[anyway-i-love-vanderwood]

HEY HEY DO U HAVE ANYMORE MINT EYE AU IDEAS

✿ I always have Mint Eye AU ideas.

Yoosung

Precious little angel tries his best to tame this horribly traumatized cultist

You’ve been raised to believe that this world is horrible and unsavable, so on bad days, he texts you pictures of the things that make living worth it.

Kittens! Puppies! It doesn’t really fix the horrible drug treatments that Blonde Voldemort forced you to endure, but it does make you remember that the entire world doesn’t need to be purged in holy fire.

Just most of it.

Half of it?

A quarter of it?

…Okay, Yoosung, no purging. :(

He reads cute romance novels with you to help teach you Normal People Socialization, because, while he loves you dearly, you’re just -

you don’t

he brought you flowers and you ate them. 

you thought the box of chocolates he got you belonged on the mantle.

he bought you a Christmas gift and you thought the gift was the pretty wrapping.

of course romance novels are not the best place to get your life advice from but w/e it’s sadly a better guide than what you had previously.

all of your LOLOL friends think this is hilarious and frequently convince you that wacky things are true. you are just as gullible as Yoosung.

Zen

So, in one of those Weird Bad Ends, Unknown got all into playing dress up with some weird Zen sleeping beauty thing, which leads me to believe that, in his Free Time, Saeran definitely is into costuming and reading scripts for plays. on tuesdays Mint Eye has drama practice and you’re kind of into acting.

particularly fairy tales

zen wants to dress up like a fairy tale prince and do recitals with you, his fairy tale princess.

despite you being, y’know.

a cultist.

who used to worship a woman in the basement of some weird mountain monastary.

You’re the Weirdest Princess Ever.

Religious cults tend to be into the whole “do not be vain and eschew material possessions” thing so you’re a.) kind of weirded out by how much Zen preens and b.) feel weird about the dressing up thing, but he coaxes you into it and gradually helps you feel beautiful about yourself.

Jaehee

is going to punch Rika twice for you.

seriously she is SO MAD about how you were treated and she just QUIETLY SEETHES WITH RIGHTEOUS FURY.

Jaehee’s lovely little bakery is a great place for you, though, and she ends up hiring both you and Saeran as cafe workers. You become particularly fond of decorating cakes, he gets really into latte art, and Jaehee basically starts running the Cultist Rehabilitation Center.

There is that time when a customer gets really pissy with Jaehee and both you and Saeran end up threatening him with a knife but

she… manages to smooth that over with the police.

(you are both very protective of her.)

Jumin

the both of you can be emotionally stunted together. how fun!

It’s weird, slowly coming to the realization that Rika Wasn’t a Great Person with him. 

It’s also weird, seeing people throw themselves at Jumin. It makes you….. jealous? really, really jealous? like, your role model up to this point has been Rika, the Queen of Vicious Jealousy, so yeah, you’re kind of ultra super jealous of these people TRYING TO STEAL YOUR NEW FAVORITE PERSON.

Jumin has to pat you on the heat to calm you down, and he reaffirms that it is you he loves and he’ll never leave you.

but i’m broken, you say.

but i’m worthless, you say.

but god doesn’t love me and i turned on my savior and -

shhhhh it’s okay. only dreams now.

Seven

man this poor boy has his hands full with you and Saeran.

It doesn’t help that the emotional politics of this situation are wack. Like, imagine this - you’re great cult pals with Saeran. You’re conditioned to hate Seven because of what Saeran has told you about him. Yet Seven is fantastically in love with you, and he also loves Saeran so much, and you love Seven despite yourself, and Saeran wants to trust him but can’t, and you want to hate Seven to stay on Saeran’s side but YOU CAN’T AND THIS IS SO DIFFICULT

AND COMPLICATED

y’all need therapy.

you frequently lock yourself in the bathroom to escape how painful this all is.

One of the nice moments you share though is when he coaxes you outside to go see the stars, and it’s so dark outside, and the sky is so pretty that it takes your breath away and -

And yeah everything is really complicated but sometimes you see Seven’s timid, tired smile when he’s too exhausted to pretend but he can’t help but smile at you and you think things might just be alright.

V

the fact that V let this happen to you has him just dying in guilt, and you kind of hate him at first because of What Rika Has Told You, so for a long time, interacting with V follows a pattern of, “V wants to help you, you shout at him to go away.”

(honestly there is some fodder for some REALLY interesting conversations here, because of his ties to you and Rika and everything, and how much you loved her, and how much he loved her, and how you’re both so disenchanted and disillusioned about… everything.)

It’s the photographs that get to you, first. Someone shows you some of them, someday, and you’re fascinated by how he makes the world look so beautiful.

How he makes it look like it’s… worth it.

He starts teaching you how to use a camera, and you start letting him, and that’s kind of the first point of healing for the two of you. You start to appreciate what he lost when he lost almost all of his sight, and he starts to want to help you for reasons beyond his paralyzing guilt.

he starts to see you as something more than his mistake.

Unknown (Saeran)

oh boy. 

You’re Saeran’s friend. You’ve been Saeran’s friend for so long. And Saeran, being Saeran, is possessive, controlling, and doesn’t want you to leave him. So when he sees you becoming close to the RFA…

this boy kind of flips.

like, he tries to extract you from the apartment and when Rika chastises him, he tries to kidnap you for himself.

There’s a lot of soothing this poor boy’s scared heart in the beginning, because he just doesn’t want you to leave him like Saeyoung left him and you’re like no I won’t you’re my friend and neither of you really know what Love is but you’re starting to kind of try to figure it out.

All the while, the RFA is trying to reach out to you too and you like them but??? Saeran??? How do you choose?

Can you choose?

How do you figure out what’s best for the both of you?

Mint Eye ends up trying to snag you both again and make you go through more Drug Therapy to cleanse your souls, and that’s when you realize…

this place isn’t good for Saeran. 

you need to get out. 

He’s pretty betrayed that you ask for Saeyoung’s help to get you both out, and won’t talk to you for awhile, but you’re just happy he isn’t being hurt anymore.

Vanderwood

Poor Vandy gets a reputation for liking biters after hooking up with you, because you definitely bit them a few times while you were trying to escape from their protective custody.

IT’S NOT THAT, they try to defend themselves. THEY JUST.

THEY JUST LIKE YOU, AND THEY LIKE YOU MOST WHEN YOU’RE NOT HALF FERAL AND ANGRY.

You get really into soap operas! You cry at the end of Pixar movies! You’re cute, they don’t like you because you’re kind of

well

aggressive.

(it’s just a bonus)

Really they’re the most… practical and normal about your whole situation. They consult psychiatrists, they get you therapy, they honestly try to help you integrate with the normal world.

They listen to your problems, and while they frequently make sarcastic comments to the tune of what the hell is this complicated bullshit, they’re ultimately supportive.

They teach you how to cook and while it is initially a disaster, you are very enthusiastic, and you make Saeran try everything you make.

[theyoilibrary]

Coffee Shop AU Masterlist

the view from the top. -  When Viktor gets hurt, he's forced to take the season off. He decides to go have some him time, and decides to get on a plane that goes anywhere. He ends up in a little town, finding himself very taken with the adorable barista in town. But the closer he gets with the closer he gets with the cute little barista, he soon finds he might not be as far away from the ice as he thought.

Warm Like Milk and Honey -  Coffee shop AU where Viktor is a business man that does Russian translation through an English company. Chris is his best friend who introduces him to The Harmony Coffee Shop and his favorite Barista Yuuri! Yuuri is currently attending university, hating his life and only has one friend. He struggles with his depression and the overwhelming desire to be close to someone. But also fears rejection and the lies that people often tell.

Katsuki Coffee -  Viktor with a K. Honestly, how hard is it to understand that he meant his name was spelled with a k not a c?

Cherry Blossoms - What would you like today?” A gentle, smooth voice interrupted his reading. Viktor closed his phone and opened his mouth to order as he looked up.The words died in his throat and he felt like he was just punched in the gut when all the air in his lungs suddenly deserted him.There was a goddamn angel in front of him.

Look into your eyes and the, sky's the limit - Viktor didn't believe in love at first sight until he saw Yuuri Katsuki and immidiately had his world view changed. Falling in love with someone so eager to protect their heart is an undertaking he had never thought himself up to - but somehow, when it's Yuuri, every piece of effort is worth it.Viktor is a would be principal ballerina in his last year studying at the Royal Ballet School in London, and he meets Yuuri Katsuki, a part time barista and veterinary student, one rushed morning and proceeds to fall for him. And then its a process of him convincing Yuuri to love him back, all the while chasing his dream, juggling friendships and coping with the fast paced life of a student in their final year.

Can't Wait For the Sun to Rise Again - Victor discovers a new café to study. The atmosphere is calm and propice to learning.But is it all there is to find in this quiet place?

Walls - There are many walls in Victor Nikiforov's life. After his sudden retirement, he has nothing, hears nothing, and is lonely, injured and traumatised. Nothing goes right.Until he meets a cute barista with long black hair and glasses who makes a sweet, sweet latte.

Coffee And Contemplation -  Yuuko and Takeshi run a small café off the New York University campus and when Yuuri decided to go abroad to study how to be a doctor, they offered him a job. Yuuri expected to be tired, deal with rude customers every day, and study every second of his free time but what he didn’t expect was his life-long idol to walk through the doors.

here's to the fools - “H-Hello. How may I help you today?”The Victor Nikiforov slid his sunglasses down his nose, and Yuuri was suddenly confronted with sparkling eyes so blue he could die. Maybe he did. Maybe he’s dead and his soul had ascended to heaven. He really couldn’t tell anymore.God, the Russian man was as devastatingly beautiful in real life as he was on film. Not fair. Not even remotely fair.(In which Victor is an actor with a 1000 watt smile and Yuuri is the cute barista of the cafe across the lot from the film company where he works.)

My little paradise - Victor Nikiforov is a painter suffering from a severe case of artists block, craving inspiration.But when his little brother Yuri forces him to take him to a job opening at a local cafe, Victor meets Yuri Katsuki, the cute barista from YuTopia and a dance major at the local collage, and he finds his block gone.

You're warmer than the scent of a caffè latte - At the mention of his name, Victor’s face brightens up, “you remembered my name!”Of course I did, Yuuri thinks, you’re the guy that I’ve been hopelessly pining over for the past three months since I found this place.“Yeah,” is what Yuuri says instead.

Shoebox of Photographs -  Unlucky culinary grad student, Katsuki Yuuri, comes to Tokyo in search of a future pursuing his cooking passions. Instead, he finds more adventure than he's bargained for...in the form of a dog Cafe run by a certain Russian model.

Fairy Kisses and Dandelion Wishes - Yuuri is fae-touched, a human so beloved and favored by the fairy race that he has gained some of their powers. When he's not hanging out at the arboretum with his fairy friends, Yuuri is working at a coffee shop.Viktor is a famous actor who is smitten with Yuuri, unknowing of the man's true nature. Unfortunately, Yuuri was never good at keeping a secret.

Café Latte -  Basically, barista Yuri is bad at budgeting and is forced to find alternative methods to make rent. He works at a coffee shop owned by Viktor. Otabek comes from a wealthy family, and is willing to help in exchange for a questionable agreement.

Hot Chocolate - They were supposed to meet on their stage. Yuuri was supposed to save for a coach, for competition fees and travel expenses, was supposed to worm his way into the big leagues and find Viktor there waiting.Viktor was not supposed to find him, sweating his ass off in this too-small too-hot coffee shop.

sugary sweet -  Katsuki Yuuri works at a coffee shop. Unfortunately, it is a coffee shop that happens to be his idol's favorite. He regularly sees the vlogger he has posters of, which he's not sure if that's good or bad. Yuuri also has a not safe for work blog that he updates, with a rather sweet, odd anon. It's also an issue that he fantasizes that this anon is his idol. He'd never really date a guy like Yuuri, right?

Honey Bread -  Two years after retiring from figure skating, Viktor Nikiforov stumbles into an empty Starbucks and meets a very charming barista.

Cups of Coffee and Cats -  When Viktor offers Yuri a job at the cafe Bean Queen, Yuri decides to try out. While there, he finally recognizes a person who has been admiring him from afar for a long time.

maybe it's fate -  Yuri Plisetsky doesn't believe in love. He's very adamant about his disbelief, going as far as to rant to his coworkers about how he feels. It's in the middle of one of these rants that something like fate brings a man through the door, a man in a leather jacket and holding a helmet asking for help with his broken down bike.