#Shocking Sight

[magicpiano]

When Tim is 10 years old his parents force him to go to some boring party in Metropolis held by Lex Luther. This would have been relatively normal if he hadn't ended the night kidnapping rescuing a clone of superman he found when he was snooping in the basement.

The good news is Tim is literally the last person Lex would suspect of stealing his clone, so he doesn't come looking (at least for a while.) Also Tim's parents are barely home! So with Superboy's powers he can easily stay quiet and hide. The Drakes don't even notice someone else living in their home.

The bad news is Tim has no idea how to take care of a super powered clone with no life experience (or even a name) when he himself is still a child. But whatever, at ten he is old enough to raise himself, so surely he is old enough to raise his new friend too?

Something, something, hijinks ensue, Tim is adopted by the batfam early and Clark steps up to be a dad.

[bet-on-me-13]

Fright Knight adopts Danny

So.

Lets say that Danny had his Accident way earlier than in Canon, let's say when he was 6.

He becomes a Halfa instantly and is transported to the Realms. He wanders around aimlessly as he tries to find a way back to his home.

He is scared and alone, and can't find a safe place to rest without the random monsters of the Realms attacking him, so when he finds a scary looking Castle he decides that it's better than nothing and sneaks in.

Unfortunately, he is followed by a Monster and has to defend himself. He quickly grabs the nearest weapon he can find, a cool looking green sword, and tries to defend himself.

He nearly manages to beat the Monster, but the sword is knocked out of his hands and he is pinned to the ground. Suddenly, the Monster cries out in pain, and Space itself warps and contorts as the Monster is sucked away to some other location (sucked into the nightmare dimension)

Where the Monster used to be standing was now a 7 Ft Tall, extremely intimidating, Knight holding the green sword from earlier.

Danny, injured and out of energy, just collapses and hopes that the knight won't kill him.

...

Fright Knight didn't know what to expect when he felt his sword be pulled from it's resting place.

Maybe Plasmius had tried stealing it again? Or some random Magician had stolen it for Power? Or maybe some Blob Ghost had knocked it over while wandering about?

Whatever the case, he wasn't expecting a Baby to he the one using his Sword. And not just a Ghost who had formed recently, it was a Literal Baby who had just become a Ghost.

He didn't expect to become a Dad like this, but he wouldn't complain either

[levemetal]

Day 2: Timeloop / Xiao Qi and Jiu Ge

I am cringe and I am not even free

Feel free to reuse this idea but 24 hours are not enough for me to finish an entire comic. I could have taken the simpler prompt but nOOOOOO timeloop is too tempting. Past me why are we like this

[feelingtheaster99]

The HORRIBLE beat of silence when Kipperlilly kills Buddy… just the whole table with their jaws dropped, all in this terrible sense of grief and surprise

[zombiekitty33]

whos this fuckin guy

[robotbeetle]

I asked my sister (who knows nothing about bg3) if she would smash or pass on the bg3 companions. Her responses were so good so i thought id share

Wyll - Pass, he’s seems like he’s too focused on being a hero that he forgets to be a person.

Shadowheart - Smash but leave very quickly afterwards. She’s giving condescending girl boss. Looks like she has either mommy or daddy issues

Gale - …smash? Hes giving dilf but it seems like he has to try very hard to put the D in dilf

Lae’zel - pass, she has crazy in those eye. She seems like a girly girl but when she’s someone’s girlfriend she looks like she can be a bit much… like lavender brown from harry potter

Astarion - smash I suppose. Hes sort of giving chasimatic on the outside but angsty inside. His angsty part would make him pathetic but his whiny parts would be his most endearing. Would a good twink in the right context. Like a greek hero that keeps getting women and goddesses to fall for him. (Goes on to compare him to odysseus)

Karlach - shes giving herbo, shes very energetic shes very cheery. Pass, she seems like she would be a lot in bed. She seems like the type of person who loves giving hugs but is too aggressive with it.

[victimeyez]

Wonderland - Xmas Special

A part of Professional//Victim

Tommy is treated to cuddles and holiday cheer, and he focuses on enjoying himself in spite of his circumstances.

CW: Captive whumpee, shock collar mention, handcuffs and binding, injured whumpee, intimate whumper, "willing" whumpee, some gentle smut, crymaxing, hidden in plain sight

~

Tommy wasn’t exactly in the holiday spirit. 

Another Christmas here, in the basement, trying to sleep the rest of his life away. But he was bored and restless, even more than usual, after being bed bound for a week. His last client had smashed his legs up pretty bad, and pins were holding his ankle together. He had a chain lead again, locking his collar to the metal bolt in the center of his room. As if he was going anywhere - he couldn’t even make it to the bathroom on his own, much less attempt an escape. Tommy was pretty sure it was just to agitate him, to help him feel trapped, not that he needed a reminder. To his chagrin, it was working - he was going stir crazy with nothing to do but wallow. 

He was scrolling through channels on his little TV, trying yet again to find some programming that wasn’t doing some lame-ass Christmas special, when he heard the basement door open above him. Moments later, Caius unlocked his door. 

“Let's get you dressed, we’re going out.”

Tommy gawked. “Uh…out?”

“Yeah, out,” Caius said, leaning in to unlock his collar. 

“Family trip!”

~

Caius had to carry him very gingerly, helping him in and out of the car. At their destination, Michelle helped Caius unfold his wheelchair. The sun had already set, but there were lights glowing over the hill past the parking lot. 

Tommy couldn’t help his quiet whimper when Caius handcuffed his wrists to the wheelchair arms. 

“Hush,” Caius cooed, and he fell quiet. He got covered in a big blanket that covered his locked wrists and his lap. A big soft scarf covered his collar, and other than the bondage, he was actually pretty comfy. 

They were at a park that had been dressed and decorated with magical light displays. Candycane arches, glittery icicle strands, and Christmas trees of every size and shape. Though it was cold, he was kept warm bundled up. There were lots of families roaming around, ones that weren’t made up of a group of three men and their captive. A few kids had strayed off the lighted path to pelt each other with snowballs, and Caius and Tommy paused to watch for a moment. A younger child packed a little snowball and approached them, wandering up to Tommy’s side. 

“Why are you in a wheelchair?” He asked curiously. Tommy managed a smile for him. 

“Because I didn’t eat all my vegetables.”

“Oh,” the child answered. “I like carrots.”

“That’s pretty cool. Snowmen like them too.” 

The kid seemed to think about that for a moment, and then a smile grew on his face and he laughed. 

“You’re funny.” He dropped the snowball on Tommy’s lap and ran away. 

Caius picked it up, dusting the extra snow from Tommy’s blanket. He offered the snowball to a little girl walking over to join the frolic. Her mother accompanying her smiled and told her to say thank you as she accepted it shyly, rushing off to go to the other children. 

“That was nice of you, Tommy. You’re good with kids.” Caius wheeled him back onto the path to catch up to Rory and Michelle, who had successfully waited out the line for hot chocolate. Michelle handed an extra one to Cauis, and Rory went to hand one to Tommy. 

“Oh - uh, thank you, but um… my hands…” 

“Here,” Caius handed his cocoa back to Michelle to reach under the blanket and unlock one of his hands, freeing Tommy to take it. He was surprised, but accepted it gratefully. It was steaming hot, with whipped cream melting on top and a candy cane hooked over the side. Tommy sipped at it carefully, not wanting to burn himself but worried about spilling when Caius moved his chair.

He’d barely thought about his legs at all, so eager to soak up all the new sights and sounds. The most stimulation he usually got was a visit to a client’s house. Being stuck in the basement all the time was, above all else, torturously boring. Even the cold air in his nose was such a welcome change of pace, he sniffled gladly. And Caius was pretty strict with his diet, hot chocolate was a real treat he only received a few times a year. Tommy had always had a sweet tooth, and his constant sugar cravings were rarely satiated. He loved fruit, which he was often provided, but he could kill for chocolate. 

“This is really good, thank you guys,” Tommy told them. It was hard to act grateful for being allowed pleasures by the people who deprived him of them in the first place, but he didn’t want to push it. It was his attempt at positive reinforcement. The urge to attempt an escape was still there, and it was so strange to be out in public with them. So close to real life, but like watching it through a one sided mirror, imprisoned behind the glass. He could see them, but they couldn’t see him, not really. It used to distress him more, but his disastrous last escape attempt had left him largely subdued. His legs couldn’t carry him anywhere, his wrist was cuffed to the chair, and Caius would shock him unconscious if he so much as let out a suspicious peep.

It was actually nice, in a way, not to struggle. To just be able to enjoy this for what it was. Caius fixed his blanket over him, and when he caught a look at Tommy’s face, he chuckled. 

“You’ve got a whipped cream mustache there, Tiger.” He pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket, but before he helped, snapped a picture with his phone. Tommy blushed when Caius dabbed at his mouth, fussing over him like a mother would, but his free hand was occupied with his hot chocolate. When Caius stood back up, Rory put a hand on his shoulder. 

“You two are cute,” he told them, and his voice was unexpectedly soft and earnest. 

“I’m happy for you, man.” 

 Caius turned to Rory and they shared a fond look, some unspoken message passing between them. 

“Thank you,” Caius answered, just as soft, and then they both broke into grins. Rory threw an arm around him and squeezed, leaning in to plant a kiss to his cheek. The atmosphere was light, and Tommy refused to ruin it by overthinking it. Caius and Rory could go at each other’s throats sometimes, and it was easy to forget that they were friends who had started a business together. And above Tommy’s head, they lived together companionably most of the time. 

“Unbelievable. I’m French and I get no kisses?” Michelle complained. Caius and Rory immediately crowded him, sandwiching him between them and making exaggerated smooching sounds as they kissed his cheeks on either side. Michelle scowled, but he was smiling, and Tommy found himself smiling and laughing, too. Strange life. But it was nice. 

Snow started to fall again, the white flakes illuminated as soon as they entered the halo around each colored light. Tommy blinked them from his eyelashes as they started to walk again, making their way into a glimmering tunnel of lighted arches. All of it was beautiful, every glittering garland and string. Even the trees were wrapped in strands of twinkling bulbs that made the surrounding ornaments glow back. 

When they were all getting cold and the park was closing soon, they made their way back to the car. Caius sat in the back with him and didn’t cuff him, just held his hand to warm it up. He was warm, and in of his soft moods, gently doting as the night was coming to a close. Tommy didn’t know how it happened, but at some point he found himself fully curled up in Caius’s lap. He could hear his heartbeat, nestled up to his chest. Caius was being so gentle, rubbing Tommy’s back. It was just so nice to be held, so he lingered in the moment. He watched the world pass outside until the car and Caius’s gentling was lulling him to sleep. His legs were cradled to them from being jostled on the bumps, and he’d been given a pill to keep the pain away.

When Caius carried him in again, he was surprised to be brought up the stairs instead of down to the basement. He was set down with a groan, and Caius stretched his back, catching his breath. He stripped and changed while Tommy settled gratefully against his soft sheets. The bed was so plushy, and he couldn’t feel a metal frame or even a stray spring against his back. 

Caius helped him out of his clothes, offering silky pajamas from his own closet. The shorts were long, the shirt baggy, but they felt wonderful. Hands returned to his chest even once he was dressed, stroking gently. They moved to his arms, lightly squeezing and massaging, then petted his stomach. Tommy had been blinking back sleep but his eyes fluttered now, letting out soft sighs and moans of pleasure just to be touched. God, it had been so long since he’d just been touched without any intent to hurt. Now, Caius’s hands all over him felt divine, and he couldn’t help his purrs. 

A hand made its way between his legs, rubbing him encouragingly. He flushed when he realized it all was affecting him, and it only took a little bit before he was panting.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, baby?” Caius murmured. Tommy nodded shakily. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Caius, please, please make me feel good,” Tommy pleaded breathily, his cheeks heated by how embarrassingly fast he was reduced to begging.

Caius’s ministrations were slow, but not to torture, only to please at a lazy sort of pace. When Tommy’s legs started to shake, he gave a harsh gasp as pain flared in his thighs suddenly, his injuries protesting. 

“Aw…poor thing. Just try to relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Caius could tell he was close, and paused to push Tommy’s borrowed pants down below his hips. Bared, Tommy covered his face with his hands in shame, watching through his fingers as Caius stroked him in earnest. 

Suddenly, it was all too much. Earlier, he had been chained by the throat in the basement, mourning the death of his freedom again. Now, he was in Caius’s bed, in his arms, feeling good. It was whiplash, it was just too much. The nice evening, the fresh air, the physical contact of getting to snuggle in the car and being touched, all of it felt suddenly overwhelming, and he hiccuped out a sob as tears rolled over. He wiped at them frantically, as if Caius might not notice. But he did, of course, and hesitated, even though Tommy’s cock was throbbing in his hand. 

“Are you alright?”

Tommy nodded quickly, clasping his hands over his mouth. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

That made him really sob, and he was fully crying. He didn’t feel sad, he actually felt nice for a change, but that was just it. Feeling this good felt like it should be wrong, and an abstract sense of guilt formed a little knot in his stomach. Caius stopped and pulled him close into his chest, petting his hair back and kissing the tears from his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t even know - hic - why I’m crying, I’m happy!”

“Poor thing…maybe it’s just been a little too much excitement for tonight. Do you want to stop and go to sleep?” Caius dabbed at his eyes and let him blow his nose. Tommy collected himself for a minute, enough that his chest would stop heaving at least. 

“No, I want to - I want to keep going, please. I want to feel good. Please?”

Caius pressed his forehead to Tommy’s, touching his chest gently before slipping his hand back down to touch him again.It felt unbearably intimate, being stroked like that with their noses nearly touching, Caius shushing him softly as he panted with pleasure. 

“That’s it, you’re alright.”

Tommy was close, trembling in Caius’s arms as they lay there curled up together. He whined softly, starting to tense. 

“Caius, Caius, Caius - wait - “

“It’s okay angel, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Tommy came with a sob, as Caius pressed soft kisses to his face to soothe him. When he was done, he struggled to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” Tommy managed, and he was grateful. Caius kissed his forehead.

 “Of course.”

Once they were cleaned up and ready for bed, Caius turned the lights out and pulled Tommy close again. He couldn’t move much with his legs healing, so he was held exactly as Caius positioned him. With some post-nut clarity, he felt a little foolish. 

Why are you letting this happen? Even begging for it, disgusting. 

Shut up. Let me have this. 

For once, the other part of him didn’t argue. Tommy fell into the best sleep he’d had in ages, and by some tiny christmas miracle, he dreamt of playing in the snow. 

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!! Merry holidays, or whatever you might be up to.

[dameferre]

here’s the thing. i hate everyone who didn’t vote for kamala harris, and i literally don’t care why. fewer people voted for trump than in 2020. so where the Fuck was the turnout from everyone else

whether they voted for trump, voted for a third party candidate, or didn’t vote at all it doesn’t make a fucking difference to me because it doesn’t make a difference to him. to the republicans. to the world we have all woken up in.

i don’t care what holier than thou, short sighted, stupid, selfish reasons people had for however they chose to or not to vote, if it wasn’t for harris then they’re responsible and i fucking hate them with every fragment of righteous anger in my body. i hope they lie awake at night thinking about how their action or inaction put so many more people in very real danger. in america, in palestine, in mexico, in every country the us has a chokehold on. they made the world worse and hurt everyone i love

and i literally don’t care what the democrats have or haven’t done btw!! they were the better, safer, kinder option and now we’re all fucking screwed. politicians are never gonna be exactly what we want it’s about doing All The Good We Can. it’s about recognising what’s at stake and swallowing our fucking pride and doing what needs to be done and as soon as it’s finished rolling up our sleeves and fighting the good fight that’s so much fucking easier to fight with democrats in office.

also i genuinely wanna know how ‘sending a message to the democrats’ works when they’re not Fucking In Office. & how’s the moral high ground taste you stupid fucks. the democrats get paid to look the other way when people are at risk bc it benefits their interests? to actively harm people with their inaction? congratulations you did it for free.

i hope they find a way to forgive themselves because i sure as fuck will never forgive them

[just-another-colin-kinnie]

Zane’s greatest fear is losing his humanity And they did That to him in the movie

[hairscare]

[franklyimissparis]

“if paul was bisexual/queer why wouldn’t he just come out by now?” why WOULD he tbh 😭😭 like idk i just think at 81 years old it’s probably not something PR man paul particularly feels the need to share publicly

[strawberrystepmom]

i so rarely wear athleisure (leggings specifically) in public anymore but i am today bc sick but i just caught the sight of my own ass in the mirror and ma'am....MA'AM.............maybe u need to keep that thing put away

[elishamanning]

19 June 2024

[theincrediblemoonchild]

I once again present to you the yumas of chapter 244 (favorite panel beneath read more)

i would also like the jury to know that the second image is saved as "family photo"

[jamespottersmixtape]

september 12: iced 1,742 words @rosekiller-microfic

Barty really needs caffeine. Evan works at a small coffee shop.

It's an incredibly average Tuesday when Barty manages to make a fool out of himself and fall in love on the same day.

Well, the whole thing isn't as dramatic as he makes it out to be, but he isn't known for being subtle with his retellings.

Barty had thought he'd be fine—running on two hours of sleep was perfectly reasonable for sitting through a 3 hour business lecture, right?

Did he mention that he was a fool?

Whether by luck or fate or the incessant blaring of Barty's alarm clock, he had managed to crawl out of bed early enough for his 9am class—calculations and formulas and useless information on the status of the economy still swirling through his brain from the night before.

However, what his sleep deprived brain had failed to remember was that Barty lived off caffeine. Nothing would get done in a day if he hadn't downed at least 2 cups of coffee or the strongest black tea he could find. Dorcas always told him it was an addiction; he never listened.

So at 8:50 he trudged across campus and sat down heavily in the back of the lecture hall, mentally preparing himself for 3 torturous hours of his professor's monotonous voice, with absolutely no caffeine in his system. A mistake on his part.

It wasn't until he awoke at 11:55, the feeling of someone nudging his shoulder enough to rouse him from a dreamless sleep, that he finally realized this mistake. He had slept through the entire fucking lecture.

And it wasn't him dozing off halfway through, fighting diligently not to nod off. No, as soon as his professor began speaking Barty's head was on the desk, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he slept soundly on the uncomfortable wood. Frankly, he was mortified.

That brings him to now, briskly walking through the sea of students milling about between classes, his finger scrolling quickly through the selection of local coffee shops.

He still has two more classes, there's no way he'll survive without something helping him stay awake.

His eyes scan his phone screen, looking at distances and reviews until he settles on a place not too far from the North corner of campus—Twin Flame Coffee & Co.

He supposes it'll do.

Barty arrives in record time, his long legs carrying him faster than average. The building is quaint but lively, cream walls with colorful chairs out front—Barty's surprised he hadn't found it sooner.

When he pushes open the door a small bell rings overhead. There's not too many people, a few students with their laptops and an old couple sharing a pastry, but there's someone ordering and he can't see the register.

He scans the menu just long enough to make sure they serve the drink he wants, and only looks down when it's his turn.

He means to step forward but the movement gets halted as soon as his eyes lock on the person working. In front of him is a boy about his age, wispy blonde curls and bright eyes, a winning smile directed right at Barty as he waits patiently for him to approach. He has freckles scattered loosely across his face and neck, disappearing beneath the tank-top he's wearing. Is that even work appropriate? he thinks.

There are at least a dozen tattoos littering his arms—nowhere near the amount Barty has, but enough—and his skin looks soft enough that biting it would leave a mark. Suddenly Barty's throat feels impossibly dry.

"How can I help you?" the boy says, and oh Jesus fucking Christ he sounds like heaven too. Barty is a goner.

Suddenly his brain is on high alert, catching up with the fact that he's been staring at this guy for at least 5 seconds. He shakes his head and approaches the register, his legs shakier than before.

The boy's smile is unwavering, yet he seems amused at Barty's slow uptake. Barty swears his eyes flick up and down Barty's figure, but quickly pushes that thought aside.

"Hi," Barty says flatly. He's lucky his voice doesn't crack but god, could he sound any more unapproachable?

"Hi," the boy says, levity clear on his face now. "What can I get started for you?"

"Uh, can I just have a large latte?"

"Large latte," the boy repeats, punching something onto a screen. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it," Barty replies. "Thank you," he adds, trying his hardest to remain calm.

He tries to smile but it definitely looks strange. Their eyes meet briefly and he has to physically restrain himself from doing something very fucking stupid. Like telling him he's pretty. Or begging for his number.

Yeah, he's fucked.

"Okay, can I have a name for that?"

"Um..." can he even remember his own name? Probably not. He wants to learn his name but can't see a name tag. Damn. "Barty," he finally gets out. "My name is Barty."

The boy laughs, his face becoming even lovelier in the process. Clearly, Barty's repeated blundering is funny to him. "Alright Barty, that'll be ready on the side for you," the boy flashes him another smile. Barty pulls out his wallet to pay, disappointed at the short interaction, but as he's inserting his card he notices the boy grabbing a cup for hot drinks.

"Shit, sorry," Barty starts, unprepared for any further conversation. "Did I say hot? I meant iced. Large iced latte."

The boy's hand stills from where it was prepared to write Barty's order. "Oh! That's fine, it's the same price."

He grabs a clear plastic cup instead, scribbling on it before passing it to a girl with similar colored hair. They look related, Barty thinks.

Barty pulls his card out, payment finished. This is where he's supposed to walk away and wait for his drink like any other customer. But, well, there's no one behind him, and he really wants to find out this guy's name.

"Sorry about that," Barty scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. His stomach swoops every time he looks at the boy's face. He really is gorgeous. "It's been a weird day."

"Hard classes?" the boy asks, placing his hands on the counter, drumming his fingers.

Barty's eyes widen, taken aback that he was asked a question. He clears his throat. "Nah, not really. I slept through my entire first lecture."

"Wow." the boy deadpans.

"Yeah," Barty huffs out a small laugh. "3 whole hours of sleep. At least it was a good nap," he shrugs.

The boy laughs again, louder this time. Barty really wouldn't mind making it happen again. "3 hours? I guess you really need this latte."

Barty groans, rubbing his hand over his face. "Tell me about it. I forgot to make coffee this morning."

The boy purses his lips, "Glad we could help then."

Barty stands there awkwardly for a moment. He wants to stay and talk, he wants to know everything there is to know about this boy—his name, for starters. Ten minutes ago he was blissfully oblivious to his existence, but he's enlightened now, and there's no way he's forgetting him.

Maybe he's a fool, it's been said before.

"I've uh– it's my first time here. It's nice, I can't believe I've never seen this place before."

The boy hums, nodding. "Well, my sister and I," he gestures to the girl making drinks, "We only opened this place a few weeks ago. It's gotten a fair bit of traction, so that's been nice. But it's new, so don't worry, you haven't been missing out for too long," he shoots Barty a wink and he swears his heart nearly stops.

"Oh," Barty chuckles, his voice higher than normal. "Well maybe I'll come back then." He's testing the waters, trying to read if this guy even cares about his existence outside of an obligation to his job.

"I hope so, would be a shame if this was the last time I saw you," the boy says, leaning forward on the counter. And what? That had to be flirting, right? Right? The boy's eyes rake over his torso in a much more obvious manner, taking time to fully appreciate his appearance.

Barty wants to say something but he finds he's too incoherent to string words together. "Yes," he says lamely. "Yeah, yes. I'll definitely be back."

"I'm looking forward to it," the boy replies, flashing him another grin.

"Here," the girl—his sister—says, passing her brother Barty's drink. The pair seem to have an entire conversation with their eyes, never saying a word out loud. At the end of the exchange, the boy lets out a frustrated sigh. She offers Barty a quick smile before turning swiftly on her heel and disappearing behind a curtain.

The boy holds his drink out. "Here's your iced latte."

Barty's cheeks flush at the reminder of his mistake, taking the coffee and straw from his grasp. If their fingers brush and Barty's face glows pink, nobody has to know.

Barty sticks the straw in the cup, taking a quick sip and practically moaning right in front of the poor man. "Fuck, that's good coffee. You'll be lucky if you don't see me here everyday."

"The coffee's the only reason, huh? It's that good?" the boy asks, raising an eyebrow.

Barty smirks, shrugging as he takes another sip. "Among other things," he says, noticing a faint blush creep up the boy's neck and cheeks. The color reminds him of a rose.

The bell above the door rings faintly, signaling a new customer. Barty spares a quick glance at his phone, the time signaling he only has half an hour before his next class. He reluctantly takes a step back towards the door. "I should probably head out."

"It was nice meeting you Barty," the boy tells him, offering another dazzling smile. Barty has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling back like an idiot.

"You too. I'll see you around, uh..." he hesitates, praying to all that is holy that this infuriatingly attractive boy will finally give him his name.

He rolls his eyes, but Barty can tell it's amiable. "Evan," he fills in. "My name is Evan."

Barty can't help it, a painfully lovestruck grin splits across his face. Evan.

Evan, Evan, Evan.

He likes the way it sounds in his head. Likes it even more when he tells him, "I'll see you around Evan," and walks out the door.