#and he was grumpy and hadn't had his tea yet

[karmas-chameleon]

Ok so I know I don't like fics that portray Manfred as an asshole, and I literally have the tag 'Manfred von Karma Being an Asshole' blocked on AO3

...but this fic is just him being an asshole. That's it, that's the fic

It wasn't often that Todd's desk phone rang, and it was a first for his entire career working in the LA prosecutor's office that he found it ringing the moment he stepped into the basement. He walked over to it in no particular hurry, supposing that it had to either be someone with the wrong number or a scam. Who called for IT support before six-thirty a.m.? There wasn't a single person in the building that should've been working at such an hour.

“Hello?” he said, not bothering with whatever more official-sounding greeting he was meant to give.

“It's about time someone answered,” snapped a gruff voice on the other end. “I've been trying this number for an hour. My computer is broken, and I expect you to fix it.”

Todd rolled his eyes as he started up his own computer. It was the typical user: loud and angry and likely stretching the facts to an unrecognizable point. Trying his number for an hour. It was more likely that whoever was calling arrived at the office five minutes before him and failed to reach him once, maybe twice. At least Todd knew that the typical user also had trivial problems that could be fixed quickly.

He sat down at his desk. “Did you try turning it off and on again?”

“Are you listening? I can't turn the damned thing on at all. I wouldn't be calling you if I could fix it myself that easily. Now come up to my office, room 1301.”

The call ended immediately after the near-shouting, giving Todd no chance to respond and little hope that he could simply gain remote access to the problem computer and avoid meeting this client directly. With a grunt, he stood back up and returned to the elevator, this time to visit a floor he'd never been on.

The sun was still rising in the sky as he exited into the thirteenth floor, once again making him doubt that anyone had started working so early. For a building dedicated to fighting crime, it seemed to Todd that the first thing they should've fought was the injustice of making people get up before the sun. But he was just the IT guy. The only one the building had, perhaps, but even then his voice was worth little.

Todd opened the door to room 1301 and saw an elderly man sitting at the other end of the room. He looked just as grumpy as he sounded, arms crossed behind a pile of papers and a monitor that likely showed nothing but darkness.

“Hey,” Todd waved, offering his best customer-service smile as he walked over to the computer and its irate owner. 

“Hey,” the man echoed. “Are you typically this professional when dealing with your superiors?”

“I…don't usually have to,” Todd responded, barely paying attention to him as he assessed the equipment he was meant to fix. It was certainly turned off, though the reason wasn't yet clear. Not trusting a word he'd been told - even more so than with a typical user - Todd tried the power button.

“Did I not tell you that I can't turn the computer on?” the prosecutor snapped. “Is that not why I called you in the first place? What do they pay you for, boy?”

Todd took a deep breath and turned back to him. “It's part of IT protocol to try…sir. You'd be surprised how many times I've fixed the issue by doing that.”

“Don't patronize me. I'll have you know I've been working in this building since before there was a single computer installed in it.”

“Yeah, I bet that's the problem,” Todd muttered under his breath.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. Can I check under your desk for a second?”

The man pulled away, but not without yet another snide remark, which it seemed he was incapable of not giving. “The computer is on the top of my desk. I'm afraid you won't find anything under there, unless you're looking for your future salary, which is dropping lower with every foolish mistake you make.”

“The computer is plugged in here,” Todd grumbled, kneeling down and ducking under the desk where he finally found something that made him smile. “Or it should be. Doesn't work very well when it isn't.”

As he pulled back into the light waving a cable in his hand, he watched with great satisfaction as the old prosecutor’s face turned red.

“That's- you- you must've unplugged that yourself!” he sputtered.

“Or you bumped it with your shoe. Let's see-” Todd moved under the desk again and plugged the computer in, then stood up as quickly as he ever had on the job to turn it on. In a second, it lit up and hummed to life. Even though he knew better than to make a complete mockery of his self-proclaimed ‘superior’, he couldn't help but let a small snort of air out of his nose. 

The man glowered at him. “Entirely unprofessional. If I had things my way, you'd be fired on the spot.”

Todd shrugged. “You'd have to find a new IT department if you did. I'm the only one this building’s got.”

“Perhaps I shall. You'll find I have a great deal of influence in this place, even if you're not a prosecutor. Hiring someone else to join you isn't beyond me; you've already shown that you're incapable of working at the hours you're needed.” His lips curled into a sneer. “I can even argue that your salaries should both be lowered to compensate. How does that sound?”

“Look, I've got work to get back to,” Todd lied. “If you have any computer trouble, just send me a message and I can fix it remotely. Make sure to check that it's plugged in first.”

He turned back with a grin and walked out of the office. He hadn't dealt with a typical client, but a typical nightmare of one. That wasn't entirely unusual for him. They would shout and get furious over the most minor things, but it didn't matter in the end. None of the prosecutors in the building were his bosses, and they could complain all they liked, but it wasn't as though they controlled his salary directly.

When he got back to the basement, he sat down and made a note to check the name of his latest nightmare, just to be ready if that particular computer had issues again. Thankfully, it was an easy name to remember: Manfred von Karma.

[meowmeowriley]

Simon was not a morning person.

Johnny was.

He'd never have guessed it, Soap and Ghost were up at the crack of dawn on base, barking orders at their men and running themselves just as ragged. Had he never followed Ghost home for leave, he could've lived his entire life not knowing that tiny personal detail. Johnny had come to realize that perhaps some of Ghost's hard-ass personality came from him being grumpy after waking up too early.

That first morning in Simon's flat Johnny had gotten up before the sun, same as he did on base. He brewed coffee and waited for a bit, waiting for Simon to rise, but the other man hadn't moved from the heap of limbs and duvet he had contorted himself into in the bed. Johnny went for a run and returned and still no movement from Simon.

Eventually, at nearly noon, Simon sauntered out of his room and into the kitchen, duvet cocooning him. If Soap drew a very tired caterpillar and a butterfly with a skull mask in his journal later that day, that was between himself and God.

The second day Johnny made the mistake of attempting to wake him. He rose, but he was gruff, short tempered, and as the two went for a run together passers by gave them a wide berth, as Simon's glare could curdle milk.

The third day was when Johnny happened upon a stroke of pure genius. He woke Simon as he rose, unintentionally, and earned himself a few choice words that he couldn't discern as they were vehemently growled into a pillow. Johnny brewed his coffee, boiled Simon's tea, retrieved a packet of biscuits from the cabinet, and left it all on the table in the living room. He then returned to his sulking boyfriend, who hadn't yet gone back to sleep.

"Up, c'mon, tea's gonna get cold."

Simon grumbled and rolled to face him, squinting like a displeased cat. Later, a disgruntled black cat with a white face, flicking it's tail would be drawn below the butterfly. Any relation to real world events was purely coincidental.

"I'll carry ya if I have to." Johnny meant it as a tease.

"Like you're gonna carry my heavy ass." Simon rolled his eyes.

Johnny was never one to back down from a challenge, and scooped the larger man up from the bed, holding him bridal style. He didn't even try to keep himself from laughing at Simon's indignant squawk.

He carried him, blanket and all, to the couch and deposited him before his breakfast, which he promptly handed over. He noticed, later, that Simon didn't glare quite so hard at the old birds power walking the opposite way they'd been running that day.

The next day he carried Simon over his shoulder, the next fireman's carry, and the day after Simon wrapped himself around Johnny's front.

His favorite, and it seemed to be Simon's favorite too as he kept positioning himself for it every time after, had been when he'd turned away from the bed to glance out the window, and Simon had risen of his own accord. He draped himself across Johnny's back, wrapping the blanket around them both and nuzzling into Johnny's neck.

John had reached back, one arm up to thread his fingers through Simon's bedhead, and the other down, so that he could pinch Simon's ass, earning him a nip to his carotid.

Laughing, Johnny had slapped gently at Simon's thigh, "Up, I still have to make your tea.

Simon dutifully lifted that leg and then climbed up, arms bracketing Johnny's head, legs secure around his navel, and chin nestled into Johnny's mussed up mohawk. The man fit there perfectly.

From that day on, Johnny carried his overgrown koala of a boyfriend around the flat as he carried out his morning routine of keeping them both caffinated and fed.

Even after returning to base, and hiding Simon and Johnny away behind Ghost and Soap, Ghost would find Soap in the rec room and climb up to wait for his breakfast.

No one dared question the Lieutenant's slight change in behavior, as they enjoyed not having their heads ripped off.

[etherealyoungk]

baby it's cold outside - choi seungcheol

pairing: husband!seungcheol x reader

warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, terms of endearment

wordcount: 795

a/n: i miss cheol :( also idk this didn't turn out how i imagined but i hope it's okay, it's still cute ig :')

with winter setting it, it had gotten cold, so so cold. the temperatures had plummeted and the air was crisp and chilly, enough to make your hands turn to ice and make you shiver. but you loved the winter, it had a way of slowing down the world, bringing a sense of coziness you craved. the early morning fog had started to set it, making it even colder.

you try to snuggle inside the thick blankets to warm up, snuggling into seungcheol's chest even more. you sigh in contentment when his arms instinctively wrap themselves around your body, holding you close and you fall back asleep into a peaceful slumber.

you're stirred awake by soft fleeting kisses being placed on your cheek, stirring you out of your slumber as your eyes softly flutter open. you gaze up to see seungcheol smiling down at you, his adorable dimple peeking out.

"it's early", you mumble, before wrapping your arms around him and shifting into the blankets even more.

"i have to get ready love", he cooes and you don't respond, closing your eyes as your head lays on his chest. "it's cold", is all you say and you hear him chuckle.

"are you going to let me go to work or no?", he asks. "no", you respond. "no?", he repeats and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"i'm gonna be late", he adds after a few seconds. "then be late", you grumble out, not willing to move, too stubborn and too comfortable in the warmth to even think about moving and letting him go.

you groan slightly after a few seconds, giving in as you tell him the classic "five more minutes", as you close your eyes. his hand rubs soft circles on your back, which was doing more harm them good really, lulling you back to sleep. and you do fall back asleep because when you wake up, the sunshine has lit up the room and seungcheol isn't next to you anymore. you furrow your brows as you look around, sitting up ever so slightly as you notice his blazer is still hung up on the hanger, indicating he hadn't left yet.

he appears in the room a few seconds later, his hands busy with securing his tie. his eyes light up when they meet yours and he smiles. "good morning love", he says softly.

"you left me to freeze", you tell dramatically as you sit up straighter, a pout evident on your face, which only makes seungcheol laugh lovingly at you. "someone's grumpy today", he adds as he walks over to you and leans down, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "i'll see you later", he adds and you nod.

seungcheol puts on his blazer and steps out of the room. you can hear the shuffle of his feet as he puts on his shoes and you get up, opening the wadrobe and taking his coat out. "cheol wait!", you call out as you grab his coat and walk out of the room, your mismatched socks serving as protection against the cold tile floor. you show him the coat.

"baby it's cold outside, don't want my husband to freeze to death now i do", you tell as you help him put on the coat, running your hands on his shoulders as you straighten the coat, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"have a good day", you tell, meeting his eyes. you quickly glance at the clock to the left and back at him. "aren't you late?", you prompt. "and who's fault is that?", he asks, making you tilt your head, giving him a glare. "my meeting got postponed", he fills in as he softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

seungcheol is about to leave, you even hear the door open and you're in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea when you hear him call out for you and you see him waiting by the doorway, an arm leaning against the wall for support as he stands tall in front of you.

"aren't you forgetting something love?", he prompts and you furrow your brows. did you forget something?

"forget what?", you ask and he pouts his lips, making a kissy face. you shake your head at his silliness and walk forward till you're in front of him. you lean in, placing a soft kiss on his lips. you pull away but he leans forward, capturing your lips again, pulling you closer as he cups your cheek gently, kissing you sweetly.

"you're so silly", you mumble against his lips and he grins. "only for you", he says without missing a beat, the soft indentation of his dimple showing, making you smile as you kiss him again.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @strawberri-uyu @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii

[melminli]

Devil's Advocate II

pairing: hazbin hotel x fem. reader

summery - after you died, you didn't really find it surprising to end up in hell. though, what you did find quiet amusing was that your life down here sucked just a bit less than the one before.

word count: 1.5k

contains: cursing, strong language, sinner reader, violence, religious themes (obviously), sexual themes, demon horniness

part I

"So...ya and that pretty lady over there seemed to be pretty tight, if ya know what I mean." Angel Dust asked curiously, ready to hear some tea. He grinned as he tilted his head to the side flirtatiously. "She some ex of yours, or somethin' like that?"

Husker just looked at him with his usual grim look while he was cleaning a few glasses. Then his gaze briefly wandered away to your figure, who was forced to deal with the Radio Demon and the Princess of Hell. Yeah, you haven't really been successful in getting out of this hotel yet.

"None of your business." He said with his monotone voice and let Angel hang his head in disappointment. "...I'm far too sober for this shit."

A groan could be heard. "Oh, come on, ya grumpy cat! Don't leave me high and dry, I know there's some good story to be heard!"

Before Husker could leave him hanging one more time, a red demon manifested next to them, much to their surprise. "I would also like to hear this good story, if you wouldn't mind sharing it with us, my good friend!" Alastor expressed his interest and looked menacingly at the barkeeper for a few seconds to make it clear that he did not have the privilege of turning his request down.

Fuck you, Larry. This is all your fault. "...we go back a long way." He reluctantly shared the information. "She was obsessed with money back then too, so I saw her in the same casino as me sometimes. Though, she died a long time before me, so I've only really known her since I went to hell." He summarized as briefly as possible.

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" He asked, a little disappointed, even though he hadn't expected the man in front of him to be a good storyteller. "How did she die?"

Cat eyes looked a little nervously at the two people in front of him, while he didn't make a sound. How unfortunate, Alastor thought to himself, and his sharp teeth showed as he understood the situation. "Looks like Husker isn't allowed to tell us this information. That's very interesting! Very interested indeed..." He laughed, and his creepy gaze shifted briefly to your figure. "Seems like we need to find out directly from the source."

The once Overlord looked over at Angel Dust with slight concern and saw how the spiders' eyes were also glancing towards your form. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, but demons as reckless as him fell into your trap like flies to a web. Besides, it wasn't like he was on your best side right now. "I'd be careful." He said to the crowd even though he didn't give a rat's ass about Alastor. "She's not known for making packs with demons left and right for nothing, and I can assure you there's not the slightest chance of escaping from her contracts once you're in it." He said and added. "That's the price for holding up her end of the deal without any sneaky tricks, I suppose."

Well, that sounded unusual. After all, it was normal that one Demon after another stabbed the other in the back, there was no such thing as trusting the other person's word. But maybe that was why you were so popular. "Calm down, I'm not gonna sell my soul to her." Angel laughed. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

Husker placed another clean glass on the counter. "It doesn't have to be your soul. She'll find something she wants from you, and she's good with her mouth, so you'll give it to her. They all do in the end." He said and reached for a bottle of whiskey, ignoring the two incredulous looks he received. He took a sip and was initially confused as to what was going on with the two until he realized what he had said and choked on his drink. "Words! I meant to say words, damn it." He corrected himself.

Alastor didn't blink for a few seconds, and Angel, on the other side, just laughed amusedly. Maybe he wasn't so wrong with his first guess, after all. "Of course ya were."

"Well, thank you for your kind hospitality, but I'm afraid that I'll be taking my leave now." You spoke to the two girls. As much as Charlie regretted it, she couldn't convince you to spend a few nights at the Hazbin Hotel. Apart from the fact that she would have had a new guest, it might have enhanced the hotel's reputation if someone as renowned as you had visited. Though, unfortunately that didn't work out.

I've messed up again. Charlie tried not to look too depressed, even though she really was an open book. "Oh, all right. Thanks for listening to me."

You smiled while rubbing her shoulder. "Of course, darling." You replied, but that didn't really seem to cheer her up. You couldn't help but be a little gentler with her, she had a good heart for a hell born. "Let's make a deal." You suggested to her as an idea popped into your head.

Right after the sentence came out of your mouth, Vaggie narrowed her eyes and stepped protectively in front of her girlfriend. "Charlie doesn't make deals with demons like you." She said protectively, and you leaned closer to her at what she said. Your pupils narrowed to slits and two more eyes opened menacingly on your face. "What do you mean with demons like me, little lady, hm?" You asked her as the light in the room began to flicker, and you saw her continue to stand her ground, even though you could smell the slight fear emanating from her.

You pulled back again and returned to your normal self. "I'm just kidding, I know I'm a greedy bitch." You laughed out and saw how Vaggies eye twitch in irritation while Charlie laughed along a little uncomfortably. "Well, even though I wouldn't mind making an official deal with the little princess, I was thinking more of a friendly kind of deal." You suggested. "I'll put in a good word if the subject of your hotel comes up with anyone I know, and in return, I'd just like to ask you for a teeny tiny favor."

That didn't sound so bad. It would be good for their image if someone like you would spread a few good things about the hotel. Before Charlie could agree, Vaggie straddled back in. "And what does this favor involve?"

You conjured up a collar with a bell and an old Poloroid camera with a snap of your fingers. "Make Husk wear this and take lots of photos of it. Preferably of the process too, 'cause I'm working on some thank you cards for my company." You say and put the two things in her hands. You then remembered something. "Oh! And give this to him too." You added and handed Charlie a piece of paper. "That bastard owes me sixty thousand dollars 'cause of that Berry guy, or whatever his name was."

You were about to turn around and walk to the door when you met two red eyes right in front of you. "Leaving us so soon, what a shame." Said the Radio Demon with a smile as you took a step back so that you were no longer face to face. "Your presence turned out to be quite entertaining, I too had secretly hoped that you would give our great hotel a chance." He announced, pointing his funny stick at you.

You pushed it aside with your finger. "Well, thank you, Blossom, but I'm afraid my presence is in demand at other places." You pronounced not very regretfully.

He raised an eyebrow and would find your nicknames more amusing if he'd understood the reference. "And where would that be?"

You looked neutral. "I actually have a massage appointment at six. See you then." You said goodbye and went away with a poof after you clapped with your hands.

A few seconds of silence passed after you disappeared, and Vaggie looked at the objects in her hands again, a little questioningly. "So, what's the best way to go about this?" She asked Charlie, who was already looking thoughtfully at the bar. "Let's ask him first. Maybe he's in a good mood."

Vaggie looked at the man in question and saw him drinking a large bottle of alcohol before throwing it in the back to get his hands on another one. "Sweetie, do you know Husk?"

[strongheartneteyam]

Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

[denaliwrites]

It's Been a Long, Long Time

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: The two of you danced around your feelings like two tango dancers... who don't know how to tango.

Soundtrack: It's Been a Long, Long Time by Harry James

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Abundant dumbassery.

You'd known Alec Hardy since he first moved to Broadchurch.

He'd stepped into the cafe where you worked on his very first day with the Broadchurch police and ordered a plain black coffee and a croissant. A bit basic, you'd thought at first, but then you'd reminded yourself that not everyone needed sugar bombs and heavy breakfasts to get going in the morning.

Given he was little more than a (rather grumpy) twig, you'd come to the conclusion that he'd probably die of a heart attack if he consumed anything more than his plain black coffee and croissant.

He came in nearly every day after that, and nearly every day it was the same order. Sometimes he picked up an extra drink for his partner, or he ordered a fruit pastry instead of his usual croissant. One time, he'd ordered tea instead of coffee. But for the most part, for the better part of a year, it was the same thing, over and over.

The first few visits, he'd refused to talk to you beyond what was strictly required -- he gave you his order and a thank you, and then he was gone. Over the months, though, he opened up more and more. He'd never needed to tell you his job -- that was easy enough to guess once the Danny Latimer case reached the public. But other details, like that he had a daughter, or that he was a cat person, or that his favorite color was green -- those came after months of only receiving "my usual, please."

Even with him opening up, though, he was hard to get to know, and even harder to fall in love with... yet you managed both. Unfortunately, Alec was an idiot.

Your boss, Alec's partner Ellie, pretty much anyone who saw the two of you interact could see that you were crushing rather hard on the detective. Anyone and everyone, except the man himself.

At first, it drove you up the wall how blind he was to your affections -- you weren't exactly making any effort to keep it concealed, and in fact thought you made it rather obvious -- too obvious, maybe, if all of Broadchurch excluding the idiot in question could tell.

But then it slowly became a game to you -- how clear could you be yet still be misunderstood? Every day you played chicken with yourself -- would today be the day? The answer was always no, even when you gave him a heart-shaped cookie on Valentine's. You'd even said "on me." Hell, before that you'd even given him a peck on the cheek under mistletoe sometime around Christmas.

You were pretty sure any chance you had at romance with him was doomed.

At least, until the Farthing Wood Club Incident.

You hadn't exactly meant to witness a crime. It just sort of happened. You were cleaning up after an event you'd catered when someone broke into the event hall and started tearing through the place.

Quietly, carefully, you ducked into a supply closet and dialed the only person you could think to call -- Alec. Of course. You heard him pick up but didn't dare answer him, even as he got louder and more annoyed, to the point where you had to mute him.

He hung up, and panic flooded your system. Desperately, you called him again, only to put him back on mute when he picked up.

You were relieved when he didn't hang up.

Any thoughts you may have had about why were lost as footsteps approached the closet. They got so close that you could hear the man breathing and, instinctively, you stopped. Several moments passed before he moved on, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to keep yourself from gasping for breath.

He passed by again a few minutes later, then again a few minutes after that.

This repeated a number of times, to the point that you were starting to get dizzy from keeping your breath held in so many random intervals.

"Oi! Anyone in here?" you heard Alec's voice call from somewhere in the building, just as the man who'd broken in passed the closet. You heard Alec call your name, and it filled you with dread as you realized that now the intruder probably knew someone else was here.

You could almost hear the man's head turn towards the closet, but before he could open the door and find you, Alec's footsteps echoed closer -- and the intruder's footsteps made the sound of a hasty retreat.

You didn't allow yourself to breathe until the voice of Alec calling your name got close -- practically right outside the door. Then, with no hesitance or shame, you threw yourself out of the closet and into Alec's arms.

Without thinking, and with nothing in your veins but pure, unfiltered adrenaline, you pulled him into a relieved kiss.

He was pretty predictably shocked at first, especially as mid-kiss your body started shaking with sobs, but rather than push you away or even break the kiss, he simply... held you. Let you ride out the emotions in the way you seemed to need.

Finally, you pulled away, wiping at your tears and panting as everything came crashing down. "G-God, I'm so -- I'm so sorry," you whimpered, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know why I did that. I just..."

"Hey," he started, pulling your attention back to him. He looked so... calm, so reassuring. "Everyone deals with situations like this differently. Believe it or not, that's not even the strangest thing someone's done t'me in a moment of high stress."

You managed to chuckle a little, but it came out somewhat hollow. "Really? You're gonna try to tell me someone's done worse than kiss you unexpectedly?"

"It wasn't entirely unexpected."

You blanched. "What do you mean?"

"Well, like I said, I've gotten weirder reactions."

Oh. That was... a lot less anxiety-inducing than you were expecting.

"Yeah, well. This wasn't really the way I pictured our first kiss going," you admitted with a sigh.

"Oh? You were picturing us havin' a first kiss?"

Fuck.

And the way he sounded so pleasantly surprised, it threw you off but filled you immediately with delight.

"Well, yeah, I've only been crushing on you since the day we met."

"Oh, why didn't you say somethin'?" he asked.

That brought out a barking laugh. "Alec, I've been dropping hints for months. Some of them were... I dunno, nuclear level obvious."

"Oh... well," he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Y'ken, sometimes ye just gotta say it outright for us to get it."

"Yeah, I learned that early on. I guess I just hoped I was wrong or something, maybe."

"It does explain a few things," he said thoughtfully.

You thought it explained most things involving the relationship between you two, but you wondered what he was thinking of in particular. "Oh yeah?"

"Well, there was that mistletoe just before Christmas... and again on New Year... and the heart cookie..."

Leave it to Alec to miss all but the most obvious of clues. Of course.

"Oh, Alec," you sighed. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Dunno. Grab dinner, maybe? After I file a report for this, of course."

[writeforfandoms]

Shadows 2

Find the John Price masterlist

For @glitterypirateduck O, Captain! Challenge. I used #18 for this chapter.

Trying to find a new normal after everything is hard, but Price makes things a little easier. A late-night conversation helps you both.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of past events, scars, past injuries, nightmares, unsettled emotions.

Word count: 1k

The town was amazing. You hadn't seen anything like it in a year, at least. 

Probably, anyway. Time had been a little hard to track while you'd been with the men. 

But the world had ended almost a year and a half ago, you were assured. 

The four who'd rescued you, albeit unknowingly, seemed to be the center of the town. The protectors. Everyone knew Gaz and Soap, the two most friendly of the four. (And also both taken, as you discovered on your first night there, a boisterous kind of family dinner with both of their significant others. That inspired a kind of ache that you pushed down out of long habit.) 

Ghost was quiet and watchful, probably the least trusting of the group. But in those first days, you saw how gently he treated the two women, voice gruff but sincere in his thanks. The single wandering sheep that meandered up to the house got gently but firmly redirected back to where it belonged. You'd known men like him before. Gruff, grumpy, soft as a marshmallow deep down. 

But Price… Price was something else. He made you feel safe. Probably just because he'd been the one to find you and cut you free, but still. He never raised his voice to you, never minded when you settled near him to read. 

That wasn't a feeling you were so willing to give up. 

Price had told you that you'd stay with them for a few days at most, until they found a better spot for you. You understood why - the house was a little crowded, with Gaz and his significant other, Ghost, and Price there full time. Soap seemed to bounce between the house and his parents’. 

But you didn't want to go. 

Oh, everyone in town was nice. Welcoming. Word got around that you were a nurse, and it didn't take long for people to start showing up asking your opinion, or asking you to look at something. 

Price just huffed and dragged the furniture around in the main room, giving you a corner with some privacy. 

A few days turned into a week, turned into two. Price didn't push about finding you another place to stay, and you never asked. 

You thought maybe he understood. Maybe he was being kind, giving you time to settle in, before bringing it up again. 

Three weeks into your stay, you woke from a nightmare, the lingering cruel laughter and screams still echoing in your ears. You sat up, hands shaking as you pushed the blanket off yourself, hunching over to try to breathe more normally. 

You hadn't had a nightmare in… a long time. You'd have been happy not to have another. Ever. 

Well. Might as well put the kettle on. 

You shuffled into the kitchen, simultaneously tired and vigilant, moving as quietly as you could. Tea was a calming ritual you'd gone without for a long time, but the muscle memory and timing hadn't left you. (And if you were oddly proud of the fact that you made the only cuppa the American would drink, well, nobody else had to know.) 

You'd just sat with your tea when you heard a stair creak. You tensed automatically, shifting your weight, fingers clenched around your mug. 

Price stepped into the kitchen, nodding to you. You returned the nod, shoulders uncoiling. 

“Still hot water left?” He asked, voice hushed.

“Plenty,” you agreed, waving a hand for him to help himself. “Shouldn't need to be reheated yet.” 

He got down his own mug, the soft sounds of him making tea helping soothe you fully back into the present. The warmth of your tea seeped into your hands, just on the verge between comforting and too hot. 

Somehow, you were still surprised when he sat across from you, gaze far too alert for the middle of the night. 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

“Mm.” You dropped your gaze to your mug, fingers tracing the handle. “You?”

He just shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. In the low light, a flash of color on his wrist caught your attention. You moved without conscious thought, one hand gently catching his. 

Both of you froze. 

“Sorry.” You started to pull your hand back. 

Price just switched his mug to his other hand and placed his hand back in yours. “Nothing to apologize for.”

You blew out a slow breath, looking into his eyes briefly before lifting your linked hands, just enough to get a better look at the scar near the heel of his hand. “What happened there?” 

He tipped your linked hands to look and then chuckled. “Burned myself on accident as a kid,” he said, shooting you an amused little smile. “Surprised you saw it.” 

You shrugged. “Must have been the lighting,” You dismissed, giving his hand one gentle squeeze before you released him. 

The two of you sat in comfortable silence together, drinking your tea. It was odd, how comfortable it was. You hadn't felt so at ease with anyone else since… before. Not all the way before, before the world ended, but before the men. Before the fire and the screaming. 

He was just… easy to be with. For you. 

“Alright there?” He kept his voice low, hand touching yours again briefly. “Look like you're about to nod off into your tea.” 

“Hm?” You blinked rapidly and looked at him. “Oh, I'm okay. Just thinking.” 

“Anything you want to share?” He kept the question mild, gentle. A clear invitation. 

You bit your lip, gaze refocusing on him. He held up steadily, unmoving, at ease. “Just… thinking that this is… comfortable.” Face burning, you dropped your gaze again, chewing lightly on your lip. 

You startled, just a little, when he took your hand again, warm fingers curling around yours. You looked back at him to find him smiling, just a little. 

“I'm glad,” he murmured, low and rougher than usual. “You deserve a safe place, and I'm happy to provide that for you. Here, or anywhere in town.” 

Your lips parted, eyes going wide, fingers clamping around his. 

He just smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and let you keep hold of his hand as he finished his tea.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Two

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: angst, alienation, and exhaustion

— WORDCOUNT: 3.7k

— A/N: Apology to any Italian readers, Tom gets rather grumpy with how cheerful everyone else is around him 😂 Also, we finally meet our reader in this chapter! 💚

I

It was just as Tom predicted. As soon as Clement saw the state of his hotel, he wouldn't stay there for another minute. He tried to persuade Tom to come with him to some fancier place he had in mind, assuring him he'd pay for all expenses, but Tom wouldn't hear it. He'd spent enough time with people like him to know that nothing came for free.

In the end, Clement took the taxi onward to the Plaza Grand Hotel, but not before writing down Tom’s hotel and room number on the edge of a crumpled napkin.

“I will call you later, yes? Just in case you change your mind,” he winked.

The rest of his day was spent in a blissful void, interrupted by the occasional pang of hunger — which he quieted with water and crackers, before falling asleep again. He was woken in the evening by cheerful shouting from outside, distant music, and peels of laughter down the hallway. The sounds reverberated up the faded frescoes and chipped columns of the building, but he had to remind himself that he was among muggles now — no hexes. At least his pillow was soft... He buried his head beneath it and hoped to suffocate before morning.

When he woke up properly, feeling squeezed and still exhausted, the sun hadn’t yet risen. The streets were quiet save for the hooting of owls resting in the trees and little insects on their flowers. Little lights from faraway buildings lit up the horizon.

Tom had slept nude, too lazy to change into something after taking his clothes off. As soon as he sat up, he felt all weak and dizzy, hair ruffled sticking to his face, body cut through with creases from the sheets and muggy with his sweat. Worst of all, his blood had all seemed to pool into his legs. Standing up like a newborn fawn, he walked over to the windows, opened them wide, and breathed in the cold night air. It made his body shiver. It felt pleasant. It felt a little bit like home.

The early hours passed slowly. He managed to wash himself in the little closet of a bathroom, brushed his hair, and even put a few of his old things in order. After eating a ham sandwich he'd bought from the train's food car and brewing a cup of tea with magic, he felt like a new man. He sat by the window in a loose bathrobe and watched the rising sun, and as his strength returned to him he began mentally revising the events of his journey.

“To think I'll have to go through all of that again on my way back,” Tom groaned. “And I thought the Hogwarts Express was a bore…”

Travelling abroad had been on his agenda for quite a while, once he found all the artefacts he needed through Borgin and Burkes, but he hadn't quite anticipated how physically exhausting it would be to sit in a muggle contraption for hours on end. If he wanted to explore the world in search of rare magical items, he would have to devise a more suitable method. Perhaps Thestrals…

His thoughts turned to Clement again. His wide grin, his bright blue eyes, his utter carelessness of composure... What an annoying fellow. Well, if the need arose to make another Horcrux, at least he'd know where to look.

II

The afternoon found him roaming the streets of the city. He spent a little while acquainting himself with the landmarks closest to the hotel just enough to find his way if lost, but he'd also collected from the concierge a list of local rare book shops and antiquaries to start his investigation. It was with nothing more than this that Tom stepped onto the cobbled streets of Rome and started walking.

The hotel Burke had set him up in, the Gallienus, was among the cheapest. It was nestled in one of the poorer parts of town, where the roads were narrow and beggars slept on the stairs of buildings boarded up. There was at least one pile of dry and darkened animal droppings on every street corner. Trash overflowed from forgotten dumpsters, buzzing vibrantly in the sun.

It took him quite a while to find the first bookstore, and longer still to find a good one. Most of them sold less prestigious stuff than what they advertised. The muggles were cheerful and friendly, if false, and a few tried to barter with him all the way to the door. A couple with fancy window dressing had only the veneer of the authentic, selling new volumes beaten up or rebound with cardboard covers.

Still, he made a few acquaintances, if not outright friends, among the shopkeepers, and his list of options grew larger as he heard from them of more interesting stores, but by evening he had nothing to show for all his exploration.

Moreover, he was thoroughly lost. The cafes frothed with little umbrellas in the streets, the fountains billowed in the air and danced, and all of it started to look the same to him. The fancy suits of people coming back from work and their black voluptuous hairstyles all blended with each other. He'd ambled his way from the Via Domenichino to the Colosseum, then to the chip-toothed ruins of the Roman Forum, higher to the Pantheon, then down, down toward the Tiber.

The air was alight with ages past and everything was moving. The shadows of aged stone, touched by dereliction and decay and the stray shellings of the war that ended just seven years ago, danced at the corners of his eyes together with the throngs of white-dressed women and the scooters zipping by. And at any moment it felt as if some ancient in a toga would walk out from between those columns and shake a bony finger at the careless youth, lamenting, and asking just to die again.

Tom stopped somewhere along the Tiber and gazed out across its murky serpentine flow. If he squinted, he could just about see the Vatican. A flock of nuns passed him by, flowing in quiet black and white against a blue and just as quiet sky. The air was warm, but chilling. He was surrounded on every side by broad buildings in smooth geometric shapes, and yet he’d never felt quite so exposed before.

Now that he had a moment to stop and ponder the experience, he realised that being in Rome felt like being in the world and yet above it, as if the whole city was floating in the sky. A dish on a high pedestal, yawning to the heavens.

“Maddening,” he whispered to himself. “Imagine living here forever…”

Under the shadow of a sycamore, he leaned over the stone walls that enclosed the river. It was a long way down… Its waters seemed about as dark as Thames, but smoother. He wondered, without really caring, whether there were any corpses buried there, some skeletons stuck in the mud, forgotten and unwanted. The chime of churchbells reached him, cutting through the buzzing of the cars.

What would he do tomorrow? Much the same thing as today, he reasoned… Only he’d have far further to go to reach these newer places he just learned about. He reached into his pocket for a little map he’d folded up, and tried to smooth it out over the stone.

“Why does it have to be so complicated?” he mumbled to himself as he planned his pathway back to the hotel. “Even London isn’t this bad, right?” He’d forgotten that it was.

Turning, he looked once more at all the young people that now lined the street. For some reason, all of them were smiling, happy. A couple was shamelessly kissing as they hid behind a tree. When they started sliding down its trunk, tight in each other’s arms, Tom rolled his eyes and started walking back the way he’d come.

III

Sweat had dampened his shirt collar and went down the centre of his chest, but somehow it bothered him less than he expected it would. It was quite a different experience from the Knockturn Alley cellar where he worked, or that pittance of a room he rented above an apothecary shop.

Here all was warm stone, and coffee, and cats that slithered around the corners. Here he was nobody. Not Mr. Riddle, not Lord Voldemort, the terror and equal envy of his schoolmates, not Tom the orphan, Tom the gifted student, Tom the Head Boy. He wasn't even a half-blood or a wizard. Muggles had no idea about such things. Here he was nobody — except maybe ‘bel ragazzo’ when he passed by a hot-blooded madam sipping her red wine. To shed his myriad identities felt light and clean, like an old coat sliding off his shoulders.

So, what was he beneath all that?

Today, he was just a wanderer taking in the sights. Tomorrow, maybe something else.

The paved Roman street branched like a vein of undulating black blood into narrower and ever-winding paths, some leading back to the piazza, others through old buildings nestled so close together they blotted out the sun. He took one such path. It was cooler here than in the open, almost bearable, even with the piling trash and stench of cat piss everywhere.

Tom had never shied away from squalor. If anything, the old stones and the dampness and the hint of sewage reminded him a bit of his old Hogwarts dorm. He smiled at the memory as he walked back the way he came, a hand in his trouser pocket and his mind far away, at how impressive and select and magical — in the most pure, extraordinary way, a way those raised with magic would never understand — it seemed to him when he first arrived at Hogwarts. How plain and pure his happiness had been to be away from wicked muggles, to learn that he was special and that greatness, surely, called to him…

The narrow alleyway he slid through opened into the wide and brilliant Piazza di Trevi. The fountain cast its net of water flowing down like gossamer. Tom stopped to thread his fingertips through its shivering pool and sprinkled a little bit of water over the hot crown of his head before walking on.

He had a vague idea of where he was, and what street he should turn on to return to his hotel before sunset.

His steps stopped almost on their own when his eyes fell on his reflection in the darkened glass of a store window — body tall and lean, chest blushing red, hair falling in his eyes with sweat. Beyond it, a flock of books on stout old wooden shelves. How interesting… Tom shifted his jacket from his elbow to his shoulder as he leaned forward to read. They were quite old volumes, judging by the typefaces and the engravings on display, and some he recognised as classic esoterica.

He looked at the sign above the door: Casa Ur. A reference to ancient Sumer? He looked past the glass more carefully, his every instinct pulling him toward this strange collection. If he was right, and they were real, then they were very old indeed. What carelessness, to keep them in such a place, hot and humid and likely infested by an entomologist’s dream collection of mites and moths and other pests.

Then he looked past his own reflection, past all the books, and there, in the middle of it all like a pale shadow between the shelves, he saw a woman. She was braced against a wooden desk, standing as he often did at Burkes when he was tired. She wore some sort of lady’s suit he couldn’t quite make out, and a string of silver shone dully at her neck like a wet trail of kisses. Her fingers were poised atop the pages of a ledger.

She was staring at him.

Tom let his gaze glide off her figure and back toward the books, keeping his cold and haughty look a moment longer before stepping away again.

How interesting… Why had none of the other shopkeepers mentioned it before? This was perhaps the first store he gave any serious consideration, and to think he’d found it all by accident…

The place had promise, but the building was far too large and far too old for rent there to be cheap — which meant the books were bound to be expensive. If they weren’t facsimiles or forgeries, then they deserved their price, but places like that also tended to be quite selective of their clientele, and Tom knew nobody in Rome who’d vouch for him. And as for his fake muggle money, that would only go so far…

What was worse, he had no way of reaching back to Borgin and Burkes. Knowing no other wizards in Rome, he had nobody to borrow an owl from, if that was even what they used in these climes, and the closest wizarding community he knew was down in Sicily. Muggle modes of communication wouldn’t reach Knownturn Alley, and international phone calls were awfully expensive. Tom was on his own.

“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a Puffskein,” he said to himself.

Before he turned the corner, he looked up at the wall and took note of the street he was just on: Via dell'Umiltà.

IV

She started closing up the shop earlier than usual that day. Maybe it was because they’d only had two customers. Maybe because it was inordinately hot… Or maybe because of that handsome stranger who gazed through her window two hours before.

She felt unprofessional for staring, for letting her eyes wander down his fit frame tall and slender like a serpent… With his crisp white shirt liberally peeled back at the neck, his dark curls falling into his eyes, jacket casually hanging from his elbow and a silver ring around his finger, those charcoal trousers sitting so tightly on his slender hips and —

That was as far as she could see before he walked away.

She gathered her things slowly, waiting for evening to come and the streets to cool a little. She locked everything up and called downstairs to announce that she was leaving.

Stepping forth from that dark hole of history and out into the world again, she was greeted by a Rome painted in royal red. The sun was setting. As she walked by the Trevi fountain she could feel the steam that rose from the sprinkling on the stones playing around her ankles. The pigeons flew up with a fright, rustling through the air. People gathered in the square and cast around her a sea of murmurs in Italian and other foreign tongues. It was all foreign to her, of course, or rather she was foreign to it.

She could never quite fit in with the locals, however comfortable she felt there. Her accent always gave her away, and whatever the Italian “look” was, she didn’t have it — or perhaps strangers stared at her for other reasons, glances lingering behind so heavy she could feel them every time she did her shopping in her little neighbourhood, or went to lunch with her librarian and antiquary friends around the area. No matter what she did, what she wore, or how she did her hair, she remained a ‘straniera’. But that was alright. She didn’t mind being a little strange.

The pretty and ancient parts of Rome disintegrated, façades falling apart, pediments crumbling, cobblestones popping out of the eternal roads. The streets looked very different a few tram hops later as she made her way toward her rented flat. People looked the same though. The young ones were in the street, the women laboured around the house, the nonnas at the market, and the men all off at work.

But no matter the day, whenever she left for the bookshop or returned from it, the cafés were always full. People gazed out from beneath their striped little umbrellas, drinking from a thick white cup of coffee or sipping on a glass of wine, reading the news, petting their dogs, chatting with each other… It made her feel like life was passing by.

Then again, she had no mood for going out for coffee, not when she came home with her feet aching and her back sore. Even though all she had to do that day was sort out the books and fill the ledgers and occasionally deal with clients, the workday left her feeling battered. Besides, she had no one to go out with anyway…

Her work was solitary, and the friends she’d made were few — fellow book dealers and curators, all of whom were as busy as she was. And whenever they did meet during the occasional break, the only thing they talked about was work. There was no room left in anybody’s life for something different.

The cellar bar across the street from where she lived was already rumbling with a hint of lonely jazz, and the solid voice of men. The sound echoed past the old restaurant and bookshop near it that had been closed for years, and the rows of cheap apartments filled with working families. Out from underneath a shrub, a cat cut through her path. She stopped and almost called to it, but it ran through a hole in the wall of the neighbouring building. Getting out of the heat, perhaps.

Her building was cool on the inside for the instant it took to climb the two sets of stairs to her door, but then she stepped into her flat and it was like walking into an oven. Sunlight streamed through her windows all day, and no amount of curtains stopped the heat that built up there.

She peeled her clothes off her body before she even reached the bedroom, limping slightly all the way from the pain at her Achilles heel, and fell upon her bed face first. The shower could wait. Oh, what she would give for a massage… She rubbed her feet together as they hung over the side, and smiled at the fantasy of a pair of cold hands rubbing down her back.

She wondered what that handsome stranger was doing now…

Was he Italian? Unlikely given his pallor, although he had the same dark hair and eyes as all the locals did, and none of the whimsical, lost look of tourists. And he was alone.

His gaze, as much as she could make of it, had been scathing and critical, and he hadn’t even said a word. She turned around on the bed, eyes still closed, as she imagined him there. She saw all manner of people in her work, and although most of them were old, there were a few still young, still handsome… Mostly students at the local universities. But nobody, nobody she’d met so far, had been quite as striking as that stranger.

Was it pointless to hope that he would come again?

It was easier to put herself together after resting for a while. Living alone provided her with no greater luxury than this: there was never any need to rush. Dinner consisted of a cup of tea and biscuits, which was more than what she usually had, paired with a few page flips from a novel she was reading that she could hardly pay attention to. But every paragraph and sentence, any image conjured up by fiction, was haunted by the contours of that young man’s face.

V

Her sleep that night was deep and intoxicating, like a faint, her body giving her up to vague nightmares she would not remember. But she had a fresh enthusiasm when she woke up the next day. She brewed a little coffee with a smile and let it cool while she took a shower, and even the rumbling of the pipes couldn’t scare her mood away.

It was a feeling that entered her like an old tenant returned to a forgotten home. She used to feel alive in a very similar way in the early days of her employment at Casa Ur, when she thought she was so lucky to be chosen to run it for Baron Agarda. And she was lucky, she knew that, but she no longer felt it. The only thing she felt these days was weary.

So why was she smiling today?

As she rode the tram, wind tousling her hair and chilling the heat off of her neck, and walked back to the shop to the happy murmurs of tourists and the flutter of pigeons, she found her thoughts returning to the same idea — would he come today too? She smiled like a besotted schoolgirl all the way to work.

That good mood mellowed as the day went on, and she fell back into the dour ritual of tending to the shop. The same books awaited her as yesterday, the same letters to prospective buyers, invitations, packages, deliveries… Only the visit of Sister Silvia could cheer her up, and they shared a cup of coffee over yesterday’s Corriere della Sera.

By lunchtime, she’d forgotten all about him. As if to distract her further, Federico called to invite her to their usual spot by the fountain for a lunch break, and there he talked about the delicious anxiety he had from his own work. He was nice, she could not deny him that, and harmless, so it was no great effort on her part to listen. She indulged him, grateful not to have to respond at all, and afterwards, Fred walked her back to work with a feeling of deep satisfaction.

Work filled her days. The sort of work that never ends, that you never see the back of. Questions and ingratitude, files and lists and mess that builds up as soon as you misplace the smallest item. There was no hope, there was no end in sight, and she was so deep in these waters that there was no point in looking forward to anything at all.

So she was all the more surprised when three o’clock rolled around and there he was, walking through her door.

[maraschinomerry]

You Are My Sunshine

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: sunshine x grumpy, based off this tiktok audio (the sunshine character needs comfort and surprises everyone when they go to the grump, who is equally surprised when they find themself hugging back)

Content: not-quite-enemies to friends, heavily implied previous non-con from another character and a non-graphic second attempt, emotional hurt/comfort

A/N: cheesiest title ever but the second I heard that tiktok audio I knew I wanted to write this for George, it reminded me so much of the way he seemed with Lucy until they bonded over pizza (but maybe a little played up to fully fit the grump persona)

Word count: 3.3k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor (taglist is open if anyone wants to be added!)

George knew you were going to be infuriating from the moment you set foot on the doorstep of 35 Portland Row.

He opened the door after the shrill bell echoed down the hall, to be met by your beaming face. Had he not been taken aback by how cute you were, he'd have closed it straight away.

"Hello!" you greeted him cheerily. "I'm here about the job - I'm (name), what's your name?"

Good grief, you were lively. One of the only perks of agent work was that everyone else was as sharp-tongued and hardened as he was, yet here you were with all the enthusiasm and energy of a puppy in a park. Still, no point being rude until you'd proven how unprepared you were. Then he could be smug about it too. "George."

"Nice to meet you, George. May I come in?" You'd noted his surliness, but it didn't phase you. Having tried everywhere else, you really needed this interview to go well. Normally by now you'd be thoroughly fed up with the rejection, it was bad enough the first time but the fourth was just upsetting, but you forced yourself to remain positive for a good first impression.

George led you silently into a cosy living room, where a boy and girl were chatting away in hushed voices on one of the sofas.

"Another candidate," George muttered as he sank into an armchair and buried his head in a comic. The other boy rose from the sofa and offered his hand. You shook it gratefully. "Anthony Lockwood," he introduced himself before gesturing to the girl, who waved briefly. "Lucy Carlyle, and I hope George had the good sense to give you his name."

You nodded and introduced yourself in return. They seemed an odd bunch - younger than you'd expected, with no sign of adult supervision, and simultaneously welcoming and closed off. Especially George, who hadn't so much as looked at you since you'd entered the room.

"I'm afraid I don't have any references to show, I had to leave my previous agency rather quickly after an incident, but I have a CV and my grade certificates to look over if you'd like," you explained, holding out a plain white folder to Lockwood. He rifled through it, noting aloud that you'd just finished at Rotwell, and you could have sworn George rolled his eyes over the top of his comic.

Lockwood laid the folder on the table. "Interesting stuff, but if you don't mind I'd like to give you a couple of tests." Hold on. The advert didn't say anything about that. Lucy must have sensed your alarm and been through something similar, as she offered you a reassuring smile. You wondered how long she'd been with the agency, how recently she'd done these 'tests'.

The tests came in the form of objects, covered by tea towels and unveiled one by one with dramatic flair. You were particularly intrigued by a jar of swampy green liquid containing a skull. Excitement crept into your voice when you realised it was a ghost jar, something you'd longed to see for years with no success, but it abruptly jolted to shock when the skull developed an almost-face and shot you a chilling grin. You struggled to regain your composure. George had lowered his comic now, watching you disdainfully, so you relaxed out of spite and resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow in challenge. No, it wasn't necessary, you were in a good mood and being polite. You needed the job.

The rest of the tests were a breeze. The taller boy, Lockwood, certainly seemed pleased with your results. As he opened his mouth to congratulate you, however, George finally spoke.

"Lockwood. A word."

The rest of you looked at him, and he glowered back. Lucy stood, smiling at you again. "Why don't I take you through to the kitchen, (name), since George appears to have neglected to offer you any tea." You followed her out of the room, the atmosphere behind you souring by the second.

As soon as you were out of earshot, George rounded on his friend. "You're not seriously thinking of hiring them." It was a statement, not a question.

"Why not? They did well, don't you think?"

"Sure, but try and tell me you're not going to get sick to death of them spewing sunshine everywhere they go within the first two weeks." Lockwood chuckled, mentally filing 'spewing sunshine' away with 'braying gallery for bellends' on the list of his favourite George-isms. George misinterpreted the laughter as denial, and threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, go ahead, but I'm calling it now. Two. Weeks."

—

You settled into Lockwood & Co. remarkably quickly, flying through the first two weeks. Lucy had bonded with you immediately, your cheerful demeanour bringing back her softer side, and even Lockwood found himself warming to you. The only person who steadfastly kept you at arms length was George. He was civil enough, having gradually come to terms with the fact that you were probably there to stay, but he never initiated conversations and ended the ones you started as soon as possible. Even in group moments round the dining table, he seemed immune where your presence began to make the others more animated. He had your back on cases as much as the other two, you couldn't deny that, but you were still wary around him. As the weeks went on and he was forced to acknowledge you more, he took to calling you 'sunshine' - never in a fun, playful way though, always "hold on, sunshine" when he was shooting down your optimism or "come on, sunshine" when you were forced to pair up and he automatically took the lead. If it had been anyone else calling you that it would have been sweet, but from him it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

—

"I think George hates me," you announced.

It was well over a month, nearly two in fact, into your employment, and you were sprawled on Lucy's floor as she lay above you on the bed painting her nails. She leaned over at your words, hair falling all around and casting a web of shadows across her face.

"What makes you say that?" she frowned.

"Oh, come off it, Luce, it's obvious. He still treats me like an interloper, barely registers my existence and when he does he never treats me like a real person, just calls me 'sunshine' like it's some horrible thing. If anything it's him that's the problem for being such a…" you trailed off as you struggled to think of the right analogy. "A storm cloud!"

Lucy giggled. "It's the hair, isn't it?" You laughed too, picturing his black curls as a dark cloud ready to burst.

The bedframe creaked as Lucy got up, moving to join you on the floor. Her nails, half finished, had been abandoned. "He doesn't hate you though, he's just not a people person at the best of times and I think he's got so used to being on the same page as me and Lockwood that not being able to figure you out has blown his little puzzle-loving mind. Not that that's any excuse."

You nodded. It made sense, but still didn't make you feel any better.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she asked. You appreciated the offer, but it was better if you did it yourself. More mature, for one, and a chance to prove you weren't as one-dimensional as he must think.

—

As you expected, you found George in the library. He was curled up in his favourite armchair, one book open in his lap and another on the table beside him alongside a mug of tea. The gentle glow of the lamplight washed him in golden hues, emphasising his curls and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He glanced up behind his glasses at the creak of the door to see you lingering on the threshold, shifting uncomfortably. Although you were fully dressed, your anxious demeanour and lack of pretense made you seem more exposed than he'd seen you before.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not exactly like I can stop you."

"Well no, but I still wanted to be decent and ask. I'm not a dick."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You sighed. You couldn't resist having a jab at him, fed up with the way he'd been treating you, but getting him on the offensive wasn't particularly conducive to making him like you.

"It means you've been resentful or outright horrible to me since the second you set eyes on me and I don't understand what I could possibly have done to make you hate me so much."

George frowned, putting the book down and giving you his full attention for perhaps the first time ever. "I don't hate you." Lucy had said as much too, but that didn't mean you believed him. "And it's not anything you've done. I just…" His fingers played absent-mindedly with a small tear in the fabric of the armchair as he tried to find the words. You waited patiently. "I don't get how you can be in a job like this and still be so naive."

Something in you twitched, and you felt your blood start to boil. "I am not naive."

"Oh really?" His voice grew sharper. "So it's not naive to live a life in which any one of us could die or get permanently ghost-locked any given night, and still act like everything's rosy and we'll be saved through the power of friendship and happy thoughts? How can you think like that?"

"Because I have to!" The words exploded out of you, startling yourself almost as much as they did George, whose eyes widened as his mouth closed. You tried desperately to claw the words, the feelings, back in, but it was too late. Resigned, you sank into the other armchair, George's eyes on you the whole time.

"I've always been quite cheerful," you began, voice barely above a whisper like the outburst had drained all your energy. "When I was going through my training at Rotwell, it was my optimism that kept the rest of the team sane, because we all knew that if even I gave up then there was no hope for any of us. But my team leader, Miles, he thought I was naive too. Innocent. He… he took advantage." Your breath hitched, and you fought the urge to cry. Across from you, George unknowingly shifted forward in his chair, closing the gap between you a little. "After a while I could barely be in the same building as him without being afraid of what he was going to try. So I left. That's how I ended up here."

"I still don't understand, though," George said quietly. "How do you go through that and come out more upbeat than ever?"

You gave him a wobbly smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Because if I don't, that means he wins. And I refuse to let him take that away from me."

George was silent, but he nodded a little in understanding. Naivety he couldn't abide, doing it to be annoying was, well, annoying, but spiteful positivity he couldn't help but respect. Plus, it occurred to him that this was possibly the first time you'd opened up to anyone about your experience, to him of all people despite how he'd treated you. He watched you intently, grappling with the fact that you had suddenly become a much more complex person than he'd first believed.

You squirmed under George's intense gaze. It felt good to get that awful memory off your chest, but weird that of the whole agency it had been him you'd told first. He was utterly unreadable in that moment, face unexpectedly soft and yet with a hardness behind his eyes that you couldn't be sure wasn't still directed at you. You cleared your throat nervously, wiping a stray tear away with the side of your hand.

"Anyway, um, I should probably get to bed. Prepare for the case tomorrow. Good night, George." You got up hastily, moving to the door.

"Good night, sunshine." You froze. There was no malice in the word at all this time. When you turned in shock, you saw he had picked up his book again. It almost covered the lower half of his face, but just over the top of it you could see the corners of his lips turned up in a smile as he watched you leave.

—

The case was going well, you thought. It was an incredibly old house, all wood panelling and decorative columns, huge oil paintings and plush velvet upholstery. Lockwood and Lucy had ventured up the grand spiral staircase, leaving you alone downstairs with George, and after last night you felt a little more confident being around him, though he was still difficult to read at times.

"How about I head through to the kitchen and you handle the lounge?" he suggested. That was new; normally it would be an instruction with no room for input. You nodded, taking the door on your left.

The room was large but stuffy, a thick layer of dust coating what would once have been an opulent social area. Faded leaf print paper covered the top half of the walls, separated from the ornate oak panels below by a picture rail. At the far end of the room, the empty fireplace was surrounded by marble and a metal grate. The navy blue sofas were almost grey now, having not been covered to defend against the cruel onslaught of time, and likewise for the long oval coffee table in the centre. You scanned the room with your torch, looking for anything that could be a source. A rustle came from the hallway behind you; you were surprised George had finished so quickly.

"Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart."

The deep voice behind you sent a shiver down your spine. You turned on legs of jelly, one hand drifting to your rapier as you willed your expression to remain as neutral as possible.

"Miles. What are you doing here?"

The older boy stepped into the room with a lecherous grin. He looked exactly as he did two months ago. Just seeing him made your stomach turn. "My team is on a case up the road, and when I heard your little agency," he said the words with a sneer, "was in town, I felt it would be rude not to pay you a visit. You left me without saying goodbye, after all."

Everything you'd been through with him flashed across your mind, and you struggled to keep your voice from shaking. You glanced at where he blocked the doorway, your only exit. "You didn't deserve a goodbye," you said as confidently as you could.

"Oh come on now, baby, after everything I did for you?" He was moving closer, and you found yourself gripping your rapier tighter as you stumbled away.

"Don't come any closer, Miles, or I swear-"

He laughed, a wicked sound that rattled from his chest. He didn't stop moving. "Or what?" You felt the backs of your knees collide with the table, the impact buckling them and tipping you backwards until your shoulder blades collided painfully with the wood and a cloud of dust billowed around you. Still Miles advanced, pinning you down with a hand across your throat. You scrabbled feebly at his sides. He pressed down harder, spots dancing across your eyes as you gasped for air that wouldn't come. His other hand snaked down your body, unaffected by the way you clawed at it. "Look at you, silly little thing. You couldn't do anything then, what's going to stop me now?"

"I am," came a familiar voice from the doorway.

The hand left your throat and breath rushed back into your lungs. You sat up, coughing. As the room swam back into focus, you were met by George, backing Miles into the wall with his rapier brandished and a dark look on his face.

Despite being at the end of a very sharp blade, Miles still managed to look smug. "You their new boyfriend? Good luck with that."

"No," George almost snarled. "I'm their friend, which is far more than you can say. You're nothing more than a trespasser."

By this point Lockwood and Lucy had heard the kerfuffle and made their way downstairs, having located the source in record time; as soon as they saw George with his rapier drawn, they burst into the room with their own in hand. Wordlessly, Lucy positioned herself a little further back, her body between you and Miles, while Lockwood went shoulder to shoulder with George. A flash of recognition crossed his face (he did know the higher-ups from most agencies in the area, after all) and his jaw set.

"You need to leave," he stated dryly. "This isn't your case, and you aren't welcome here." While George was more than competent with a rapier, Lockwood's reputation preceded him, and his added confidence and unwavering blade made Miles gulp. He moved cautiously to the door, George on his heels to make sure he left. The older boy shot you one final glance, a vicious wink, before he disappeared. You collapsed against the table with relief.

Immediately, Lucy and Lockwood sheathed their rapiers. "Are you okay?" they asked in near unison. You weren't sure you could give an honest answer: blood was thundering in your ears, your lungs were still frantically trying to replace the air that had been pushed out, your knees and shoulders hurt and your neck was definitely going to bruise. Your vision began to blur with tears, but through them you registered the vibrant orange of George's outfit as he returned. The dam of emotions broke. You surged forward. Lucy opened her arms for a hug. Lockwood held out a hand for you to settle into his shoulder. George dropped his arms to his side in statuesque shock as you barrelled into him.

The others snapped their attention to George, and he blinked back in surprise. He glanced down to where your hair merged into his shirt, face buried in his chest as sobs wracked your body, arms wrapped around his waist under his open plaid shirt. He threw Lucy a panicked look - she was your best friend, shouldn't you have gone to her for comfort? Lucy simply nodded pointedly to you. Slowly, slowly, George brought his arms up and placed them delicately around your injured shoulders. The second you felt the contact, you melted further into him and he tightened the embrace. Lockwood and Lucy continued to stare, dumbfounded, and George felt something blossom in his chest. He was secretly honoured that you'd gone to him - maybe it was just because you'd told him exactly what had happened between you and Miles, but he hadn't expected that to be enough to change your frustration overnight. Whatever the reason, it had certainly changed how he felt about you. In that moment, as he brought a hand up to stroke your hair, he knew that he'd do anything it took to protect you, to prove to you that he was glad to have you on the team, to work to be worthy of being the person you trusted with all your emotions and secrets the way you had with this. And he was never, ever, going to let anyone make you feel the way Miles had, vulnerable and afraid, or the way he had, like you had to justify the way you chose to be brave and be yourself. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around his back to tangle his fingers in yours.

"Come on sunshine, let's get you home."

He didn't let you go the entire way back to Portland Row.

[americas1suiteheart]

Can I ask for a Lemon x Reader bubble tea shop au?

I love this so much! If you can't tell, Lemon is one of my favourite characters to write so far. He's such a sweetheart I love him.

Your Order, Please?

Lemon x GN! Reader Bubble Tea Shop AU

Notes; I realized halfway through that this was starting to look very similar to another lemon x reader that also just so happens to be a bubble tea shop au sorta thing, so I just wanna clear up that I'm not purposely "stealing," ideas or work and I'm basing it off of the request.👍

Warnings; One swear word is about it, this is sort of a 'the-twins-are-off-of-work' sort of thing, so no violence, blood, or death in this fic.

You were currently working in a small Bubble Tea Cafe, it was fairly popular amongst the teens that lived within the area, but you still had some adults show up there too that were regulars. But there were so few of them that you could name them off the top of your head; Matthew, Edmund, Olive, Hannah, Ella, Jane, Jim, Scott, and the most particular name of them all, Lemon.

Olive and Hannah were best friends, Jim was a buissiness man, Jim and Scott were married to eachother, you didn't know much about Ella and Jane, and Lemon sometimes came in with his brother, Tangerine, and always got the same order.

Lemon in particular was your favourite customer to serve, he would typically come around the quieter hours that the Cafe was open, he was simple with his order, and he was funny and kept a conversation when you would make his drink, something that most people don't do either because they think its bothering or because they're on their phones.

You'd much rather people talk to you than they be on their phones.

You hadn't known much about him except that he has a brother obviously, that he's about the same age as you, and most importantly that he loves Thomas and Friends.

That's what you two would typically talk about when he came around. Though you could tell that his brother wasn't very fond of it whenever he came with him due to the annoyed look on his face. He was typically pretty quiet for the most part though.

You were currently washing the blenders off so you could have clean ones for the next customers that wanted a blended order.

Ding!

You finish drying your hands so you could get to the customer, only to turn around and find Lemon with his brother. Tangerine had that grumpy look on his face he always had, whilst Lemon had a large grin on his.

"Oh, hey guys, its always a pleasure to see you two, I'm going to assume the same thing today right?" You say, quickly making your way to the order station.

"Great to see you too, Y/n. I think I'm gonna try something different today though," Lemon says, looking at the menu.

"Alright, cool. What about you Tan, same thing?" You say, leaning on the counter.

"Yeah just the coffee bubble tea," Tangerine replies.

"Alright, Lemon, have you decided yet?" You look at him.

"What do you recommend," Lemon asks, a nervous look on his face.

"Ooh, well my favourite is the Jasmine tea with coconut milk and the jelly cubes. Its fairly herbal and fruity so I think you might like it," You say.

You could see Tangerine snicker slightly before Lemon gives him a hard nudge at his ribs with his elbow.

"Yeah I'll have that," Lemon says.

You turn around to go and make the two their drinks, them bickering at eachother before it eventually stops. This wasn't odd behaviour for the two, they seemed to fight quite often actually, so you've just learned to ignore them.

"Y/n, darling, can I tell you something," You hear Tangerine say from behind you.

"Uh, yeah sure," You say, slightly confused.

Tangerine wasn't much one to talk, at least not when he was in the shop. And when he would talk to you it was just to give you his order, which was slightly unnecessary being he got the same thing everytime. So why is he talking to you now?

"Alright, you've got to really promise not to say anything to Lemon though because he'd try to kill me,"

"Um, alright?" Now you were even more confused, what does he have to say that can't be told to Lemon?

"Okay, Lem's got a little bit of a thing for you. Never told me directly but all he ever does is go on about you constantly. If he's not trying to get fuckin' Thomas and Friends into the conversation, he's trying to get you into it," He says, in a hushed tone.

You freeze up for a second, you could feel your face and ears rapidly starting to go red.

You'll admit, Lemon was a very handsome man. He was always very well dressed, he was nice and funny, and he had that cheeky smile that could be contagious to anyone, except for Tangerine apparently.

You didn't say anything until you finished the drinks and place them onto the counter in front of him, still letting Tangerine's words process into your mind.

"Do you really think he fancies me?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

"Why? Do you fancy him?" Tangerine asks, raising an eyebrow, an amused smirk forming on his lips.

"P-possibly," You stutter out, the same heat burning the tips of your ears and your cheeks.

He didn't say anything, just paid for the drinks and left with a cheeky grin on his face.

---------------------------------------

It had been a few days since the twins had last come to the shop. It wasn't like Lemon came everyday but it worried you now being what you told Tangerine.

You were currently on your lunch break, sitting in the staff room while your co-worker was up for his shift. You munched on your sandwich and read a book to pass the time.

When it was finally up you placed your white apron back on and placed your book back into your bag, then going back into your station.

You wiped the countertop down to get rid of any wet spots your co-worker forgot to clean.

Ding!

You turn around to see none other than Lemon come in.

"Ah, Lemon! Great to see you!" You exclaim, sounding a bit more ecstatic than you would've liked.

"Do you want the same thing or something different today?" You ask, a smile on your face.

"I think I'll try something different again," Lemon says, twiddling with his fingers.

"Alright, you need time to think?" You ask.

"No, I think I've got it," Lemon replies.

"Alright, go on ahead,"

"How about a date?"

"What?" You say, taken aback.

"A date. I would like a date with you," He repeats, a twinge of nervousness in his voice.

You could feel your face burn up again once more. Curse your easiness to fluster so quickly.

"You don't have to say yes or anything its your ch-"

"I'd love to," You say, cutting Lemon off, silently cursing yourself for not letting him finish.

"R-really?" Lemon stutters, an awestruck look on his face.

"Really," You reply back.

Lemon grins widely, "Great, here's my number," He says, taking a small yellow post it out of his pocket.

"Did you have that piece of paper ready for if I said yes?" You giggle, taking it gingerly from his hand.

"Maybe," He says, sheepishly.

You chuckle before reaching next to the cash register to grab a pen and paper to write your phone number down for him. You draw a little smile face down next to your name before handing the paper to him.

"I'll text you soon," Lemon says, giving a wink before leaving the Café.

You could see him walk to his car, Tangerine in the drivers seat, as he excitedly opens the car door and shows Tangerine the piece of paper you'd given him. Tangerine gives him a smile before starting the car up and driving off.

You wondered if Tangerine told Lemon what you'd said. You'll ask him about it eventually.

---------------------------------------

I think this might be my favourite work ever. I hope you enjoyed reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Requests still are temporarily closed but should be open within the end of this week or mid next week.

[shion-yu]

Day 13 - Paranoia (Alt 27)

“Then why have you poisoned my tea?” Whumptober 2023! I’m using the @ailesswhumptober's prompt list. This story is about my OC Rey - here’s his profile if you’re so inclined: https://toyhou.se/23741197.rey 

TWs: Self harm, homophobia

Rey was supposed to meet yet another potential wife today. She was apparently someone he’d met before as a child, but he didn't remember her at all. He really, really wasn't feeling up to it. He’d had a bad case of the sniffles for a few days now and felt run down. Felix had insisted on sleeping at inns this week to try and combat things turning into a full blown cold but alas, the attempt was fruitless. Still, they'd delayed this meeting long enough and Rey mostly just seemed grumpy now. 

“I don’t want to go,” Rey whined for the millionth time that evening and Felix helped him tie his hair back in his usual long ponytail. “What if she talks too much? What if she smells unpleasant?”

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked him incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “Stop being such a baby.”

“I’m not feeling up to it,” Rey said, coughing pointedly. ”See? I’m still ill.” 

“You know you’ll have that cough at least for the next week,” Felix said. Rey’s immune system was nothing to write home about. “You’ll be fine.”

“I have a fever.”

“You do not.”

“How do you know?” Rey asked irritably.

“Because you never tell me if you have a fever, you prefer hiding it until the last possible moment so you can pass out and give me a heart attack,” Felix said flatly. He saw Rey smirk for just a moment. Infuriating, this boy was. “Come on. You look like a proper prince for once. Let’s go.”

Felix dragged Rey to the home they were to meet at. It was the nicest of all the houses in the village, clearly belonging to a family of high social status. Felix knew Rey couldn't care less about that. He also knew that Rey hadn't had a second thought about any of the girls he’d met thus far on their long journey to find him a wife. Why that was, Felix couldn’t exactly pinpoint. But it was clear Rey had little interest in fulfilling his part of the bargain to his parents that he could travel the kingdom as long as he came back home with a suitable wife. 

They were met with fine hospitality. The young woman, Emily, was pleasant but spoke confidently. She reminded Felix of Rey’s sister Moira, which did not brood well for Rey liking her very much. Rey put on his manners, but it was clear he was stiff and uncomfortable. Felix noticed he kept glancing around nervously and tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Felix chose not to say anything about Rey’s behavior, but Emily was not so subtle. “Prince Allistor, are you quite all right?” She asked him.

Rey looked at her like she’d offended him. “Of course,” he said thinly. His troublesome cough making itself known at that moment did not give credence to his statement. 

“That doesn't sound good. Are you sick?” She asked him sweetly.

“Are you trying to kick me out?” Rey snapped back. She looked startled and sat back, holding her hands up defensively. 

“No, that's not what I-”

“Then why have you poisoned my tea?” 

Felix blinked. He was always on guard and picked up on shady cues much easier than Rey did. He hadn't sensed any from this family. Emily looked as genuinely confused as he did.

“Poison?! There's no poison in your tea, Prince Allistor,” she said. Her voice of exasperation was either really good acting or entirely genuine. “Look, I’ll take a sip if you want.” She followed through and took a sip from Rey’s drink pointedly.

“That's not good enough. You could have already taken the antidote,” Rey muttered. “It could be in the food, in the drink, in the air...” Felix stood up straight and walked over to Rey, putting a hand on his charge’s shoulder.

“Okay, Rey, that’s enough,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry Miss Emily. I’m afraid today isn't a good day after all. The prince isn't feeling well.”

“Yes of course,” Emily said, flustered. “I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly, please do come back another time...”

“Like I’d come back here where you can - ouch!” Felix’s grip on Rey’s shoulder got much tighter. “Fine, goodnight, Miss Emily. I do hope your staff doesn't try to poison you too,” Rey scowled. 

Felix led Rey out the door and they were halfway down the path leading away from the house when Felix turned Rey around and glared at him. “What is your problem? She was not trying to poison you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Rey said. “You never know.”

“Now I’m going to have to write another bullshit letter to your parents about why this one didn't work out either,” Felix groaned. “Seriously though, why are you acting like this?”

“It's none of your business,” Rey huffed, continuing to walk back towards the direction of their inn. “You're the one always telling me to be more cautious.” 

“Cautious, not paranoid,” Felix said. “Look, you ought to go back and apologize and-”

“What about the air?”

“What?”

“The air in there. It was poisonous too. If I go back it’ll get me.” Rey looked deadly serious, and now Felix was concerned. This wasn't like Rey, and he wasn't usually this good of an actor either. He stepped forward and pressed one hand against Rey’s cheek. It was warmer than usual; Felix felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. He flinched when Rey pushed him away. “Leave me alone.”

“You do have a fever. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did,” Rey glared. Felix sighed. He was sure the fever hadn’t been present earlier, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to argue with Rey right now. “Someone’s trying to kill me, Felix.”

“No one is trying to kill you,” Felix tried to comfort him. “You’re just unwell right now. You need rest.” Rey was starting to shake and Felix moved to pick him up as he had before. Rey dodged his hands. 

“Don’t touch me!”

“Okay, fine, just follow me.” Thankfully the inn wasn’t very far. He got an increasingly agitated Rey into their room and made sure he sat on the bed. “Let’s get you in bed.” Rey seemed to be behaving better now and followed Felix’s instructions, but his eyes were darting around rapidly. He didn’t know what had set Rey off, but it was clear Rey was hearing things that he couldn’t. “Rey, it’s okay, it’s just us.”

“She sounded just like... Just like someone... I don’t know,” Rey suddenly sounded choked up. “Her voice was the same and...”

“No one’s going to hurt you, Rey,” Felix said carefully. “You’re not in there anymore.”

Rey scratched his arms anxiously. “Not where?! I can’t even remember why I know her voice or why it’s so fucking... I hate this,” he groaned, slumping. 

Felix’s heart broke for Rey. He looked genuinely upset and he didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like he could just tell Rey everything, it might break him again and revealing to the prince he was there too seemed unhelpful. Still, he remembered then what he used to do when Rey was upset back when they were in the dungeon together and slowly moved towards the prince. “Let me touch you, Rey.”

Rey looked at Felix like he was insane. “Why? What’re you going to do to me?”

“Nothing. Just hold you. It’ll feel nice, I promise.” Felix thought there’d be more of a fight, but Rey reluctantly moved over for Felix to sit next to him. Felix placed his arm around Rey’s shoulders and pulled him in so he had the prince leaning against him. “Close your eyes. Deep breaths,” Felix said quietly.

“You must really think I’m simple,” Rey muttered, but he seemed to follow the instructions anyway.

“There’s nothing wrong with simple comforts,” Felix said quietly. “Do you want to lie down? Put your head in my lap. There you go...” Felix untied Rey’s hair and delicately carded his large fingers through the long, black locks. He used to do this to his little brother when the boy had nightmares. “Does it feel good?”

“Mm,” Rey grunted noncommittally, but it seemed to lean towards more a yes than a no.

“Good,” Felix said. “We don’t have anything else we have to do today. Close your eyes.” Rey did so, and soon he was asleep. Felix continued to brush his hair, Rey’s skin hot against his cool fingertips. There was little Felix felt he could truly do for Rey when the man got so agitated. It’d been a while since the last time so Felix liked to think this was a pretty good run. He hated that Rey had to deal with this at all. He often wondered if being unable to remember why Rey had so many things that set him off was actually making things worse. But it was a fact that had Rey’s memory not been wiped originally, he would be dead now. Still, Felix wondered if someday there would be a way that Rey could remember everything and live at the same time.

[tetsuro-wulf]

The Wulf's Eye: RP Journal #116 | Month of Love

Man.. so much is happened. To the point where, well.. nights lately don't leave me much room to write, I'll say at most.

Our valentione's themed events have been such a blast. Especially bringing Burlesque back.. I did miss it we put it to rest for a turn! I recall last year I didn't hold back anything but.. this year was different. What can I say? My lover was there, /and/ partook. We all had a lot of fun together, too. Friends, family, and new faces.

Seems this month was heavily spent meeting new faces, actually. Starting with the Yatagarasu fellow supposedly sent by the bureau to reside in the Mundane Realm for a time, through the Vault. Figured if they were going to work with us, the Taisho should meet them. He seemed nice.. Shouta-san. He's never actually come here, apparently. So it was nice telling him things here and there. He seemed very eager to expand his role as a messenger, so we discussed such over tea. Hell, I even asked if he could set up a meeting between I and Ame-no-Uzume.

Another face I've met was at the kafe.. Crimson. I served him food and we ended up chatting plenty. He comes off a bit reclusive and one would say he's grumpy, but I don't feel that way. I believe he just has a gruff attitude and history. We ended up arranging for a spar, given he offered immediately to fight my wolven form. It would be the first time someone has asked to fight me in my form, so I added him to my list! Fists were his choice.. how amusing. It was an excellent fight, nonetheless. A user of the rapier, which I hadn't properly sparred in ages. Fellow fire-user, too. Seems fire has been a theme of my fights lately.

While I wouldn't call Fae a 'new face', we finally kept to each other's promise on going on a hunt together. Fae had been tracking nightkin.. associated with a horde of voidsent, I believe! I had the pleasure of seeing the way Fae's combative art works face to face. Again, how astonishing to think had I met this man sooner, we might've bitten each other's throats. But hells, Fae does kickass. Sure, the attitude can get under people's skins but.. as least insulting as can be, not much skin to begin with now that I've gotten to know Fae on the frontline. I can tell he doesn't sugarcoat his line of work.

While there are new faces, there are old faces. And sure enough.. on a recent elite.. our ambush ended up being a fucking trap. And not just led by anyone.. Gaspard. He was there. He's alive. Yet.. part of me isn't surprised. He's a psychotic fuck who yearns for blood and will do anything to get his way. But.. I'm hopeful. Despite some killed, some getting away including him, we managed to catch a captive. So we'll get what information we can.. no matter the means.

Though, wrapping these things up.. I held the first Sohei meeting which was plenty pleasant. Everyone got to know each other and their purpose for being there. I'm already hopeful for this group. Everyone seems ready to do so. I intend to do my best to educate them while we experience change together. Change for this world. For the yokai that reside within, and for mortals who have yet to understand them.

02.21.2023 - 03.01.2023

[saffordstories]

Hearing that Marcy hadn't eaten yet but was willing to get food brought a smile to Marian's face. She knew that being injured or sick sometimes made it hard to have an appetite. Or have the energy to make something despite being hungry. So it was a bit of relief that Marcy was agreeing to getting something.

The question did pop into her head for a moment if Marcy was vegetarian herself or if she simply liked the chili. She couldn't remember off the top of her head if she had heard one way or the other, but it was something to keep in mind if she ever had the chance to bring over food. Marian would have to ask if she had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Giving Marcy a "See you soon." back Marian set to slipping her jacket on, making sure Frankie had his own dinner in his bowl (the wet food this time to soothe his grumpiness), and head out to her truck. The drive over to Marcy's building wouldn't take long at all. Buuuuut Marian still took the time to go through her music and slip in an Andy Williams cd.

"Falling in love with love, is falling for make belieeeeeeve! Falling in love, with love, is playing the fooooooool!"

On the ride over Marian's fingers tapped on the steering wheel in beat with the songs as she thought about what sounded good for a late dinner. That and what she and Marcy might do while she was over. First thought was to make a pot of tea or coffee and just chat, seeing how she didn't know too much about Marcy and she would indeed like to get to know her better. Marian also did have some nail polish tucked away if she wanted her nails painted again. She would have to see how the teen was feeling when they got back to her place.

By the time she pulled up in the garage Mr. Williams was singing about how he left his heart  back in San Francisco. Looking around only took her a short while to spot her and come to a stop near her and rolled down her window.

"Hello dear, hop on in. I hope you didn't wait too long in here."

As Marian spoke, relief washed over Marcy like a wave and she could feel herself offering both a smile and a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be intruding. Marian had even offered her dinner.

To be honest, the medication she was on made it difficult to feel hungry but there was something about being offered that felt welcoming. "I haven't eaten yet, no." Briefly she considered protesting dinner but logically she knew she should eat. "Maybe we could swing through a drive through? McGregor's deli has really wonderful vegetarian chili."

Marcy ensured the cap of her peach juice was tightly sealed before setting the bottle into her purse. Grabbing the bag by the handles, she made her way back to her bedroom.

She wasn't entirely certain how long Marian would let her hang out but grabbing her medication and protective mask for her nose seemed like a safe idea.

"I can meet you in the parking garage so you don't have to come all the way up. I'll see you soon. Thank you, Marian."

Hanging up the phone, Marcy glanced around her room in search of any needed item that was best not forgotten. Her phone charger, travelers notebook, and medication was thrown into her bag. The protective mask for her injury was slipped on her face and briefly she thought of Hannibal Lector before pushing it from her mind.

She pulled her bag up onto her shoulder and paused once more, eyes going to her bed. She hesitated briefly, mentally weighing options before reaching under her pillow and grabbing her switch blade.

Marcy was deeply religious and knew The Dark Lord would protect her against evil. But she also knew that, sometimes, you had to protect yourself against people. If the man that hurt her ever came back....Well, Marcy knew she would do more than pray this time.

[l-r-christian]

May I request for a fic for Poly!Mikaelson men (Elijah, Klaus, Kol and Finn). Where Reader is a mix Black Latina and Rebekah's best friend who is a single mother of a newborn baby boy and need to hide out in her home from an group of enemies.

Oh yes,

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, the boys be simpin, Rebekah being the best, Jealous!Hayley, cute baby, cheating ex

The Abattoir wasn't safe as a new enemy was almost able to kill Klaus with an white oak which put the rest of the family on edge. Rebekah said she know where they could hide out for awhile as Hope was asking Hayley where were they going as Rebekah drove them outside of New Orleans.

"Take your sorry ass and that so call nanny, you have been fucking and go back to your mama's house!"

"Baby! I'm sorry!" They heard and saw a beautiful woman yelling at a man the was half dressed with a woman in a car scared.

"Sorry my ass James! Now get for I call my sisters!" The woman yelled as the man hurried to his car promising to be back before driving off. The woman mumbled a few Spanish curses under her breath before pausing seeing Rebekah and broke out in a smile.

"Beka! Oh how are you?"

"Hello Y/N." Rebekah said as the short woman cupped her face when she came down off the porch. Y/N was a gorgeous light bronze skinned woman with long light brown hair and twinkling chocolate brown eyes dressed in shorts and a long t-shirt.

"Can we talk inside?"

"Of course, Sebastián misses his favorite aunty." Y/N says getting everyone inside, the others copied Rebekah taking off their shoes. Sebastián layed sleeping in a rocking bassinet as Y/N was getting tea.

"So my sweet Beka what brings you and your siblings?"

"Just need a place to hide...I was wondering if..."

"Of course Rebekah. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you all need." Y/N said with a bright smile placing the tea down then moving picking up her crying boy.

"Here allow me." Elijah said being closest to the bassinet gently picking up the baby who stopped crying staring at the vampire.

"Oh thank you, sorry about Sebastián. He is just being a grumpy baby." Y/N said a bit surprised that Sebastián was comfortable with someone that wasn't her or Rebekah hold him.

"It is fine." Elijah says sitting down as Hope moved next to her uncle wanting to see the baby.

"So how do you know our baby sister?" Kol asked as Y/N smiled and Rebekah grinned sipping on her tea.

"We met when she first got to town, helped me out when there was a guy harassing me after my shift."

"Y/N here is a dancer." Rebekah says as Hayley raised an eyebrow.

"You are friends with a stripper?"

"Hayley, she is not. Y/N works at burlesque club as a dancer and bartender." Rebekah said glaring hating how people called her dear friend a stripper.

"Well darling we would have to come by."

"Feel free."

Two months into their stay Hayley noticed how the Mikaelson men would hang around Y/N helping her around the house, helping her care for Sebastián. Of the men took up on her offer to come to the show and really enjoyed watching her perform and a little possessive seeing other men stare at her.

"So any closer to figuring out who is behind this all?" Hayley asked seeing Finn holding Sebastián as Y/N was at work and Elijah folding laundry as Rebekah and Kol was making dinner.

"Vampires that follow Marcel."

"Oh...when are we going to take them out?"

"We took care of it as month ago." Elijah says when the men perked up hearing the door open and close. Y/N came walking in with Klaus as it was his turn to pick her up, Hayley was surprised that the men had taken care of the problem and hadn't made any move to leave yet.

"Long day baby?" Elijah asked kissing her temple when she passed him and Hayley was surprised at the term of endearment and affection.

"Yes, we had to practice new dances." Y/N says kissing Sebastián on his head as he whined for his mother to which Finn passed the baby to his mother and kissed her cheek.

"I am going to go change."

"What the hell was that?" Hayley hissed as the men looked at her with raised eyebrows and Rebekah was putting out the food.

"What was what?"

"You guys being affectionate with Y/N." Hayley said arms crossed as Rebekah smirked knowing Hayley was jealous and knew her answer will upset the hybrid.

"Because my brothers are dating her." Rebekah answered Hayley making the hybrid freeze in shock looking at Elijah who nodded. Hayley was going to say something when Y/N came walking out carrying Sebastián who was half asleep clinging to his mother. During dinner Hayley was seeing just how sweet the men were with Y/N and Sebastián who was in Elijah's arms.

"Will you have to leave soon?"

"Not any time soon baby." Elijah says helping her with the dishes then joined her on the couch with the others as Sebastián and Hope were in bed. Y/N sat cuddling Kol and Rebekah as everyone settled watching t.v as Hayley narrowed her eyes annoyed and upset that the Original men were more interested in staying with Y/N than heading home.

"She fell asleep." Kol whispered as Finn moved lifting Y/N up as everyone moved to go to bed and Hayley glared seeing Elijah going to Y/N's bedroom along with the other men. Y/N woke up being cuddled by her men making her laugh quietly seeing how calm and innocent they looked while sleeping as she relaxed not having the heart to leave just yet nor in the near future.

[anaccidentalgenius]

Secret Santa for @thelittlewiseowl

A cup of Latte with 100 percent Love

Levi Ackerman was the owner of the Ackerman cafe opposite to Wall Sina institute. All his customers were mostly students and professors. All familiar faces. So, Christmas was nothing notable for this grumpy anti-social clean freak. However this year, he didn't have Oluo, Petra, Eld, and Gunther to accompany him. Oluo and Petra were married and off on a holiday. Eld's brother had invited him to stay around. Gunther was to go to his girl friend's home and get introduced.

Levi sighed. It seemed he was destined to be forever alone.

It was Christmas. He had hired a college drop out Eren, and his best buddy (a nerd, what Levi suspected) Armin to help him. He also asked his cousin, Mikasa to help him as she had nowhere to go either. He was rather surprised to hear that she was rather excited to help him. Oh! He should've realized there was something up between Mikasa and Eren. But it was too late! He scrunched his nose in disgust as he saw Eren hold Mikasa's hand while talking in a corner.

'Oy brat! Get to work you two! I can still see coffee stains on table 4'

They scurried away. What's worse is no one remembers it's his birthday. Not even Mike and Nanaba. They must've forgotten, what with 3 kids to handle at home. Kids are always brats! And her.... He would rather not recall anything about her...

Levi shook his head. It's been a long time. Their relationship would've worked out if only he had been a little more temperate; if only a little more considerate. He still loves her. Last night, she had posted a picture of her returning back on her Instagram. It's a wonder she hadn't blocked him yet. He had pushed her away. He had done terrible stuff. He should've supported her dreams. She was always meant to fly. He was only holding her back.

He sighed again.

It's a history, and she is not coming back anymore.

He sat with a fresh tea cup, well one hour before dawn. As everyone busily cleaned the room for the day, he sat there reminiscing her.

He was sitting right where he was, when she came in. She had a commanding face that begged for attention. Someone you cant ignore. Her brunette hair tied high up. He was listening to Mike and Nanaba bicker, Erwin was still alive then. He was the one who introduced her to him.

'Hey Hanji! You here for the first time?'

She turned to look at him and beamed. Oh! How much he wanted her to make her smile at him like that!

'Yap! Moblit said he brought all my coffee from here. So thought about visiting this place today.'

She strolled towards the counter where they all were sitted.

'And where is Moblit?'

'On a date with Nifa' she said with a very mischievous smile.  Well. Present day Moblit was married to Nifa, till Levi remembers. 'Wasn't he your boyfriend, Hanji?' Nanaba piped in. 'Who gave you such ideas, Nana? I am forever single.' Hanji laughed.

'Meet Levi here. He is my other forever single friend. The owner of the shop.' Erwin gestured towards Levi. To be honest, He just stared at Hanji, when she looked at him. He was lost. Lost in those brown eyes. Lost in the smile. Lost in her everything. Time seemed frozen.

'Hey Levi! It's not good to stare at someone you know.' Hanji laughed. He was broken out of the trance, and realized.... she was dirty. He couldn't believe he had overlooked the coffee stains, the mud stains, and pen mark, in the lab coat she wore (lab coat? Must be Erwin's department scientist) and the dirt in her trousers, her crumpled shirt.

'You are dirty. Take a bath'

Hanji just stared. Everyone did. If Levi didn't like someone he just stared at them and didn't speak. If he liked someone he learnt to keep shut about stuff he didn't like. But Levi being so blunt in first meet, was... something to behold.

That was his first meet.

Now looking back at the last...

The sun was high in their shared apartment. 'Levi please. I wanna go. It's the best chance in my life. I cannot leave my project right here. Not after I have worked so much.'

'Hanji its a damn war! You may get killed!'

'Erwin is going too!'

'I dont care!'

'Hanji dont go, please.'

'I can t deny the government! I need to be in their project. Erwin's whole team is in.'

'Hanji if you don't back off, we are breaking up.'

Hanji cooled down a bit. She looked hurt. So very hurt. 'Is it the other option? I go and we break up, I don't, we stay put?'

Levi took a step back. He was angry. He desperately wanted to be with her. He didn't want to see her die. He had read in the newspaper. All the people who died. She was a scientist, yes. But it didn't stop her chances to... he couldn't bring those words.

'Yes' He hoped she valued their relationship over her science. He knew. But he knew wrong.

'Okay then.' She said calmly and put the ring off from her finger. 'I will pay this month's bill as it was supposed to be. I am booking tickets.' And she left the living room in a flurry, leaving a broken and bewildered Levi looking right at the spot she was standing on. He didn't want this. It was his last straw to protect her. It was the last method. And... no... he didn't. He didn't...

She was gone the next day. The bill in an envelope. No sign she ever lived in this apartment. No sign that Hanji ever existed. Phone number not working. Instagram didn't exist then. She was off grid. Yes. She was in a top secret mission. She had to he off grid. Both Erwin and Hanji. One month later, North headquarters were ransacked. Scientist Erwin Smith was reported dead. Levi was so broke. He couldn't open his cafe anymore. He just sat in his apartment and cried. The envelope she left was also on its place. He would never sell away something that was hers. It still sits in his drawer. The ring still sits in the bedside table.

He sighed again and looked at the watch. It was 7 am. It's time to open the cafe. 'Oy brats! Did you finish yet?' He tied a handkerchief around his mouth and started to help them, seeing it was going nowhere. The shop opened, people got in looking all merry. It only broke his heart.

Time flew past boringly. People came and went. Ordered their drinks, and left with them, sat with their lovers, their families.

It was a heck of a day. Christmas was always a heck of a day.

As Levi was cleaning the counter for the nth time, trying not to mutter 'shitty day' in a row for nth time, the door opened with a chime. He didn't know why he felt an urge to look up. Some aura had got in in him. It was unusual for him to bother looking at customers, since Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were doing all the work other than cleaning. He looked up, and his jaws dropped. Time stopped. It was as if he held the entire world that moment.

Those eyes. Those shitty eyes. Four eyes. The spark behind te glasses. The commanding lines of the face that demanded his attention, that spoke authority. The brunette mess of hair tied in a ponytail. The smudged, crumpled shirt and trouser. The only thing missing was the white lab coat. Hanji. Zoe Hanji.

She moved closer to him, hesitantly. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. Had he gone crazy? Had his mind already taken all the shit in life? What was he doing? He just stopped and stared.

'Hey Levi! It's not good to stare at someone you know' she smiled softly. All the brazen starkness in her angular face gone. The quirks long faded away. Her face was soft, different. She radiated a soft aura. She was different. She wasn't the ambitious Hanji, he knew. She was someone else. Someone softer, yet someone home.

Hanji held his hand. Suddenly Levi was conscious that Eren, Mikasa and Armin were staring at them. At him. He pulled his hand away.

'What would you order, ma'am?'

Hanji laughed. 'A latte with 100 percent forgiveness. Can you give me that, Mr. Ackerman? I will pay with 100 percent repentance.'

Sheesh. Those brats were all googly eyed. 'I will serve you a latte, and maybe talk about you specific request a bit later?' Hanji laughed again. That laugh. The one he had always yearned to hear. He smiled. He actually did. After all those years.

'You three get to work! I am making the latte for Dr. Hanji'

'Hoy!'

'Why did you come back?' He asked. Sitting down on the chair opposite to her, with a latte and a cup of tea. 'I realized I was wrong. I should've stayed. I should've understood that you meant good. I wanted to come back after the damn war ended. But I was burdened with more work. I had to sort out a lot of stuff. Erwin's stuff. I understood your point, Levi. When Erwin died... it was so sudden... I understood it. I had talked to him an hour before he died. It was so normal. I-'

She broke off crying.

'I am sorry too, Hanji.' He held her shaking hands. 'When you left, I went to my mother. She was very angry with me. She pointed out my mistake. Her last wish was that I sort out our matter. But I never did that. I could'nt bring myself to connect to you. I was afraid-'

'I am so sorry about your mother, Levi. We both were quite uncompromising, you know. It brought the end of our relationship.' Hanji whispered. A moment of silence passed.

'Anyway' restored to her jolly mood, 'I brought you presents!'

Levi could feel his ears go red, as he again caught Eren and Mikasa staring at them. He glared at them.

'Those brats!'

'Ugh. Let them be. They are hormone inflicted teenagers! Will be okay in a few years!'

'Whatever!'

Hanji pulled out a box of tea set from her huge handbag. This is your christmas present.

'Jeez, thanks.' Oh fuck! He hadn't prepared any gifts for her.

'And this is your birthday present. Happy birthday, Levi.' She looked at him sheepishly as she passed him a packet. He opened it to find a bunch of photos. It wasn't him and Hanji on it only. One had his mother, Hanji, and him. One had Kenny and him. One had Erwin, Hanji, Him, Nanaba, Mike and Moblit. A picnic photo. They brought tears to his eyes.

How all of them had moved on. Since the war. Since the college days. Since everything. And it was only him. Still living in the past.

She gently put her hand on his shoulder. 'Let's renew something broken today, Levi. I know its too much to ask for but, will you-'

'I have only one present for you.' He pushed the Latte to her. 'I know you asked for latte with 100 per cent forgiveness, but if I gave you latte with 100 percent love, just for free, will you accept it?'

'My grumpy, little neat freak!'

This Christmas, almost 10 years since the last he enjoyed, was a cup of latte with 100 percent love.

Tagging the hosts- @alemanriq and @laffitine

[countlessrealities]

Vaggie muttered a grumpy "good" when the imp assured that he was absolutely not trying to hit on her. Yet, the way her shoulders relaxed, just slightly, betrayed that she was feeling a bit more at ease.

Of course, she had learnt pretty quickly that in Hell plenty of taken people were free to seek out other partners, since polyamorous and open relationships were extremely common, but in this specific case? Her guts instinct told her that it was safe to believe him.

And, in any case, even if she had been wrong to trust him, she could have summoned her spear and dealt with it. Charlie wouldn't have been too happy, but the former Exorcist was sure that she would have understood.

"Is it that obvious?" She asked, abandoning those thoughts. Hers was basically a rhetorical question. If they hadn't been so caught up in their "fun activities", most likely every single demon in the room could have told that she wasn't having a great time.

She scanned the crow until she found Charlie. The princess was babbling animatedly, waving her arms with obvious enthusiasm, a sentiment that the couple she had chosen to talk to obviously wasn't sharing.

"But yeah, you're right. I'd never set foot in a place like this without a really good reason," she went on, turning back towards the imp. "No offence or judgement. It just isn't my cup of tea. And that's an understatement." She played with her glass. "My partner is here on...business too, and she really wanted me to tag along, so...you know how it is. I'd be a shitty girlfriend if I wasn't here to support her."

If she couldn't help Charlie with her dream, she was nothing. So, no matter what was asked of her, no matter how dangerous, unpleasant, uncomfortable. No matter how much she hated it. She would have done it without hesitation.

Vaggie allowed herself a chuckle at her companion's flair, but then her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the results of his work. She would have never managed to braid her hair so well.

"...Alright, I'll give you this. It looks pretty cool."

It had been a surprising peaceful night thus far, or at least as far as any party in the lust ring could ever be. While usually he'd be dodging the unwanted attention of those drawn in by his public persona it seemed that Ozzie dropping the bombshell of their relationship was enough of a deterrent to keep that to a minimum. That didn't mean they weren't talking though, and that had been what brought him to the quiet section of the bar alone. Ozzie had been drawn away by personal business, a neice visiting - which had been news to him but he wasn't about to suddenly deal with family introductions. Maybe a good few drinks had made him just a little too comfortable interacting with others, taking it upon himself to braid the stranger's hair - spurred on only with the thought of how inconvenient it must be with all these people around to brush past and snag it. He'd about to explain as such when the assumption of flirting was brought up, pulling a rasped laugh from the imp.

-- ❝Oh- no, no no. I wasnt- haha wow. No.❞ Realising just how rude that could sound, he was quick to backpedal ans explain himself. Clearly she either didn't realise who he was, or didn't even know in the first place. -- ❝I've got a partner too, a guy I'm with.❞ - and how wrong it felt to just call Asmodeus 'a guy' but he didn't want to spoil the novelty of anonymity too soon. - ❝But he's off dealing with some business- and you looked as out of place as anyone possibly could be. Let me guess, not your idea to come out here tonight? Am I right or am I right?❞ He remarked with a smirk, finishing the end of the braid neatly and making sure that her bangs kept her missing eye covered. He could empathise with the insecurity there, he'd not dare fuck with that just to style her hair. With that done he draw back with an exaggerated sweeping gesture of his robotic arms and a wide grin. -- ❝Ta-da! That should hold for the rest of the night, you're very welcome.❞