#barista saffron :)

[elektrontree]

nearly a month old megamix stuff (and barista)

[alwaysthcarcrash]

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Ridgeback Male

Stone / Saffron / Driftwood , Lionfish / Bee / Contour

[bunny584]

Hard Night, Good Morning

A/N: .....i…no one look at me. Just read. Hurt/Comfort/hurt? Idk. This shit had me scream crying either way. Post Sukuna Kaisen, but the good guys won.

Art credit: Narutoss_ramen on X

Satoru remembers. His Six Eyes may have dulled to just two. And the battle scars may have faded. But the memories — the film roll featuring a life lived and still living…are all there.

Satoru remembers, but Suguru has forgotten.

His name. His home. The life he’s lived. The life he lost. The friendships, the family, the triumphs, the sins. It’s all gone because Suguru Geto died on December 24th.

At least, his soul did.

And yet, Satoru is about to buy coffee from the shell of a man he once loved. Here. Today. With a smile more beautiful than the first day of summer solstice.

Tabula Rasa. Blank Slate. A stranger he knows better than the back of his hand.

How will The Strongest…no, how will Satoru Gojo choose to know Suguru Geto in this iteration of his life?

Friends? Lovers?

Or just a patron of the handsome barista at a countryside coffee shop with the best lavender latte around.

Ignorance has a way of making things beautiful. 

Exquisite, really. 

Satoru’s eyes flutter closed. His angular nose nestles into an arc of plumb blossoms. Dancing in the wind. Hanging freely — generously — for everyone on its walking path to enjoy. 

Has the world always been this gorgeous?

And so…quiet. 

It was the first thing Satoru noticed once his Six Eyes were laid to rest. The moment Limitless buzzed inward for the very last time, all he could see was silence. 

Saffron became orange. 

Emerald became green. 

Ursa Major became a handful of stars. 

The Sun stayed the Sun. The Moon seemed so cold. And the world became so dull. 

Wonderfully and peacefully dull. 

Satoru was no longer tortured by hyperawareness. A double edged sword, but a sword no less. The minuscule details of a person’s skin or each drop of rainfall during a thunderstorm no longer gnawed at his sanity. 

The smoke eventually settled. 

The Survivors, they aptly nicknamed themselves, peeled off the armor. When the chaos dissipated and the Demon was banished to the Hell he belonged, The Survivors dispersed. 

Unable to hold each other’s gaze. For fear of recognizing the monsters they had to become to earn the throne from the King of Curses. 

So, Satoru found himself buying a one-way ticket to the tail end of the country.

Where the greens and oranges and yellows exist that much more peacefully. And the Sun is the Sun. But the handful of stars are solar bright and the Moon is the warmest it’s ever been for him.

And he is so damn lucky.

To have the privilege of living without the weight of being The Strongest. 

To stop and smell spring on his way to partake in the latest breaking news. 

A new coffee shop. 

Bone dry cappuccinos. Colombian espresso. Raspberry macaroons without the threat of curses and fear and death and loss knocking around his skull. 

“Good morning! Welcome in.”

What?

The chimes above the door may as well be blow horns. Tearing at the eardrums Satoru is sure are already ruined. The meaningless, polite greeting suddenly holds the gravity of an entire galaxy behind it. 

But not because the words are unique. 

The voice. 

Satoru could be dumb, deaf and blind. He would recognize that voice under any circumstance. 

As a baby? He’d know that voice signifies safety. 

As a teen? That voice meant becoming a man worth respecting. With morals that would save millions. 

That night? That voice meant love. In the cruelest sense of the word. 

Then? That voice only spewed lies. 

And now? That voice means…it means..

“Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.” Brilliant amethyst eyes melt the ice shackles around Satoru’s feet. 

Royal purple. Somewhere between indigo and violet. A warm, heavy cloak when they are looking at you reverently. When they’re trusting. Bright. Honest. 

But when they see you as the enemy? The other? Trying to thwart a world they’ve envisioned and worked hard for, those amethyst eyes are more lethal than scorpion venom. 

“S-su…Suguru��?” His feet move forward all at once. Nearly impaling himself on the counter. Satoru’s peripheral vision isn’t as sharp, but there is a line. And yet, none of that matters.

None of it fucking matters.

The barista’s thick, inky locks are pulled up like it used to be when they were seventeen. His shoulders are as broad and muscular as they were the last night they spoke. His voice.

 His voice 

And his eyes. And lips. And smile. The stupid, boyish dimple cratered in his left cheek. With eyelashes long enough to support a fleet of planes taking off the runway. 

It’s Suguru. 

Suguru Geto. 

Not an imposter. Not something so dark and blasphemous, Satoru nearly flattened the Earth to exorcise.

Just Suguru.

And he knows it to be true. Not by his eyes, because they can lie to him now. But his soul and heart would tell him otherwise. 

“Suguru..” Satoru tastes a name so foreign to his lips, he nearly chokes on it.

The beautiful boy lets out a gentle chuckle. Flickering down to his name tag before returning eye contact. 

“So I’m told.” He shrugs. His long span reaches over to place a porcelain espresso cup beneath the machine nozzle.

“You look like you need something strong. Hard night?”

“Y—yeah.” Say something real, idiot.

 “Ahh,” Suguru rolls his plump bottom lip under his teeth. Eyebrows crawling together in genuine concern. And Satoru wishes he could swallow his heart currently beating in his throat.

“Let’s start with an espresso, then. What’s your name?” 

The question alone nearly brings Satoru to his knees.

How could he not know?

It’s me, Suguru. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. 

Their names only being a few letters away is a testament to the relationship they shared. They’ve only ever existed as one. As sure as the Sun rising in the east and setting in the west. In lockstep like a custom made door key. 

Suguru’s name is…was an integral part of his identity. Not just his vocabulary. 

“Uh, Satoru.” Sweaty palms fiddle for his wallet. Anything to dull the searing pain in his chest. 

“Satoru…?” 

“Yes?” Arctic eyes snap up to meet violet ones. As if the barista spontaneously remembered, Satoru’s flushed lips hang open with naive hope. 

But Suguru just quietly rolls the syllables of his name around one more time. Rich on the tongue, he decides. “That’s a nice name.” 

“Thanks.” Disappointment weighs heavy on his shoulders.

“The espresso is on the house. What else can I make for you, Satoru?”

And his name sounds sweeter than the pastry he stumbled in here for. He would pay anything. To tuck that velvet voice in a jar and replay it on rainy days, Satoru would give anything. 

“A lavender latte.” He flickers to the glass display. “And two of the Kikufuku, please.”

“Done. Have a seat.” Suguru nods at the corner table.

“Take a load off. I’ll bring your stuff over.” His lips lax into an intoxicating smile and Satoru’s world spins. 

No more than two seconds after his butt hits the seat, Satoru wedges his cell between his ear and shoulder. Each unanswered ring chips away at his patience. 

“Hey normie.” 

“Shoko,” Satoru sighs into the speaker. Too relieved to insult her back.

“Long time no speak,” she chides. He can almost hear the pull of her cigarette sizzling against her lips. 

“I know.” She’s right, but none of them are speaking right now. They all need a little time. 

“Sorry about that. Listen, I’ve got a question.” Satoru chews his bottom lip raw. Suguru’s back is facing him, perfecting his order.

“Don’t sound so tortured about it, shoot.” Shoko swings the door wide open and Satoru barrels through. 

“When people come back from the dead, what’s the likelihood of losing all memories?” 

“What?” Her tone makes his question sound so egregious he almost rethinks asking it. 

Almost. 

He doesn’t though. Because the raven-haired barista has flashed his Colgate smile and will be heading over in t-2 minutes. And Satoru…he needs something to hold onto. A life vest to keep him from drowning.

“C’mon Sho, how do memories work when you bring people back from the dead?” Each word is more hushed than the last. A thinly veiled attempt at hiding his insanity. 

“…when did you find him?” 

The second time today oxygen is taken directly from Satoru’s lungs. How did she know?

“What the hell are you—“

“How is he..?”

“Shoko, I don’t know what you’re talking—“

“He was my friend TOO, Satoru.” His best friend cuts down his silver-tongued lies for the last time. 

She’s right.

It’s inhumane to brush it aside. Satoru cannot fathom the pain she had to work through when she lost Suguru. Then Satoru. And Suguru again. It’s unfair for him to be selfish with this. 

“This morning.” He concedes.  

The doctor mulls his answer over. Short, choppy breaths that sound more relieved than not feather through the speaker.

“Let’s talk tomorrow, my patient is here.” She ends the call before he can protest. The life vest won’t come today. Not from Shoko at least.

As always, Suguru enters with perfect timing. Balancing an espresso, latte and dessert on one forearm. He always did move with the grace of a danseur noble. 

“Your treats.” In one fluid motion, a pair of steaming drinks and sweets are lined in front of him in the order they should be consumed. 

He is still so thoughtful.

The leash around Satoru’s control snaps in half. His hand darts to Suguru’s forearm just as he turns to leave. His person tilts his head to the side. Quizzical. But kind. And patient. Satoru hasn’t said a word but he knows Suguru would listen to each syllable. 

“Do you not…have them?” Satoru can hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Have what?” Suguru probes, stepping into his grasp. 

“The hard nights,” the Strongest retorts. Darting his eyes out of the window as if the two of them are in a realm they don’t belong in. 

And maybe they are. 

Satoru bites back a fond chuckle when Suguru makes his face. An exaggerated frown with narrowed eyes. He resembles a jaguar most in those moments, and Satoru never let him live it down. 

“No,” Suguru starts, shaking his head almost regretfully. “I don’t remember enough to have a sleepless night.”

He could remember for the both of them. 

Satoru would spend every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of his life infusing memories into his best friend. Whatever he wanted to know. He’ll speak from sunrise to sunset until he passed on and call it a life well lived. 

“What do you…what do you mean?” Satoru pipes up, pulling the barista back when he attempts to leave again. 

Suguru’s confusion melts into the warmth Satoru never found a replacement for. No one ever looked at him so tenderly. Grace and patience tailor made just for him. 

“It’s a long, bizarre story,” Suguru warns. 

“I have time!” Satoru sits up in his seat. Still gripping his forearm. 

“We—I, I have all the time in the world now, Suguru.” 

His casual laugh is anything but. Fractures in his base. A wobble at the tail end of Suguru’s name. 

Satoru is anything but casual. 

And Suguru knows it. 

The way his eyes soften when he scans the retired sorcerer’s face. He always did read Satoru like a children’s coloring book. 

“Sure, I’m on a break anyway.” 

Suguru settles into the seat across from him. Meanwhile Satoru digs the pads of his fingers into his thighs. Anything to keep from reaching out and caressing those stunning features that used to keep him (and everyone else) up at night. 

He was so stupid back then. 

Not letting himself acknowledge the way his body reacted to Suguru. The boy had his body so well trained within the first few days of meeting him. 

On any given day all Satoru wanted was to touch him. And feel him. And take him in any way Suguru was willing to give. 

Even when he gave, it was not enough.

How could it be?

Suguru’s heart ran deeper than Mariana’s Trench and soared higher than Mount Everest — and it still wasn’t enough to quench Satoru’s thirst. 

His visceral need. To live and breathe in the dark haired curse user with striking violet eyes. 

It’ll never be enough. 

“What’s on your mind, Satoru?” The barista probes. A question with the comfort of being familiar and pain of being foreign all at once. 

Satoru offers a lopsided smile. His hand swiping the moisture from the back of his neck.

“Sorry. You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Mmm,” Suguru’s smile feels nostalgic. “Was he a good person?”

The question is earnest. Almost like he’s trying to learn about himself because his mind has betrayed him. 

Satoru gathers a shaky breath. Digging crescent moons into his sweaty palms. 

“The best.” He won’t cry today. He refuses to. 

“Principled. Moral. So right in his thinking it…” Satoru drops his gaze. 

Unable to sustain eye contact with his fondest memory and biggest regret. Just sitting across from him on a sunny Sunday morning. 

“Sounds like you liked him, then.” Suguru muses. 

“I loved him.” I love you.

“Mmm.” Suguru’s striking lines soften in a way that reminds Satoru why he could never muster the courage to hate him. No matter how many guns were pointed at his head.

An imaginary fork pushes around their words. Like the extra time in the air would let them dry out. Suddenly become devoid of all its meaning.

“Is something wrong?” Suguru breaks the silence and startles Satoru down to the present. 

“What?”

“The coffee,” Concern etched into the barista’s face. “Is there something wrong? You’re tearing up—“

Suguru’s hand lands on Satoru’s wet cheek before he has a chance to swipe the rogue tears away. 

And he can’t help himself. Both hands snake around Suguru’s wrist. The life vest he’s been desperate for.

 Satoru’s lids flutter shut. 

And for a moment, albeit fleeting, but present nonetheless — for a moment everything is right.

Satoru and Suguru are 17 again. Riding the high of being strong, the strongest. 

They were untouchable. 

And Satoru was so helplessly in love. 

Greens were emerald, back then. Oranges were saffron. But the Sun was Suguru. And if Satoru was the Moon then he clawed his way to dawn each night, just to get a glimpse of him. 

“Sato—“

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that.” Satoru bashfully relinquishes his grip. 

Despite its freedom, Suguru’s hand hovers over his cheek. Ready to act if any more tears come. 

Of course, he is. 

And thankfully, they don’t. 

But Suguru’s concern persists. “Just…wait here, okay? I’ll go get some tissues.” 

Satoru offers a feeble smile. A half nod in feigned agreement. But the millisecond he disappears around the corner, Satoru is out the door.

He promised he wouldn’t cry today. 

And it wouldn’t be the first time he lied to himself. 

“Gorgeous.” 

Suguru buries his face into a brush of plum blossoms. His morning walk is littered with them and for some reason he feels connected to the blooms.

Almost as if memories from a past life are clawing underwater — desperate to break the surface before the tide crashes in again.

A frustrated breath showers the soft petals grazing his nose. 

It’s cruel. 

Existing like this is cruel.

To live and breathe and walk next to lives rich with memories. Adorned with hope and love and loss and pain. 

Yet Suguru has nothing. 

He must’ve been a monster to deserve this punishment. To wake up a blank slate. The letters of his own name had to be learned.

He must’ve been awful. 

The chimes above the shop door knock his thoughts loose.

It’s not totally true. Suguru does remember one thing. The only thing from that night the gods saw fit to leave in his reservoir.

The cold. 

It seared through him like a sword fit for a king. 

Suguru was nearly blinded by the sterile fluorescent lights. The walls leaned away from him. Accusatory. His presence bastardized the delicate line between life and death.

It was unacceptable. 

And so, he paid the steep price of life after soul-death with his memories. 

It’s unfair how vividly Suguru remembers the campfire eyes that were foreign and yet so inviting. Hovering over him. Salty streams splashed on his face like a summer storm. 

“Suguru??” Honeyed tobacco on her voice. Sweet and stringent all at once. 

“You’re awake. You’re here. God I—“ Misty mahogany eyes raked his face for another second before she landed her body into his stunned arms. 

“W-who are you?” Suguru stammered into her dampened neck. Hugging her just as tight because it’s what his body told him to do. 

“Someone who hates you. And loves you more than I could ever hate you.” She was hushed and pressured. Pressing angry, short kisses along his forehead. Sore with a linear cut and stitches that stung. 

“You have to go.” The woman stuffed an envelope bursting with yen into his hand. Stuffing a wallet full of IDs and note cards into his other.

“What is all this?” Was the last question he squeezed out to the pretty stranger.

She hissed strict instructions on how to leave the city. Where he came to life was no longer safe. But she emptied her savings into his hands. Because if he just listened to her. If he followed her directions to a tee and make it out of city limits alive, he would be set for the next decade at the very least. 

This same memory plagues Suguru’s otherwise empty mind day in and day out. He’s learned to live with the sudden flashback that catches his heart mid-beat. And holds it hostage for a minute or two.

Suguru shrugs the chills sprinting down his spine away. Circling a damp napkin along the counter. Less than a minute before the doors unlock and he can just tell today is going to be one of those— 

7:00 AM on the dot.

A familiar wind chime interrupts his train of thought.

Already?

Suguru eyes land on the reason for the prompt melody. 

And his souls halts where he stands. 

He can’t be real. 

A dream maybe? A hallucination?

He must be. The light that halos around him from crown to feet originates in Heaven. Bright enough to pierce lightyears away through earth’s insignificant clouds and blind Suguru in his tracks.

Satoru. 

A celestial prince walking among the likes of him.

Wholly unworthy of witnessing something so beautiful. So above the plane of his existence. Suguru doesn’t deserve to breathe around the ethereal being, much less serve him coffee. 

But he’ll count his blessings, nonetheless. 

“Hard night?” Suguru forces a steady tone to his casual greeting. 

He’s anything but casual. 

“They always are.” Satoru’s boyish smile is the first sip of warm hot cocoa on a wintery Sunday morning. 

Suguru could nibble and suck and roll the demigod’s words over his tongue all day and never grow tired of the taste. 

He flips a freshly cleaned espresso mug under the machine. Mulling over the number of times he can claim “it’s on the house” before Satoru realizes he could ask Suguru for anything and it would always be on his dime. 

“You don’t sleep very much do you?” The barista probes. Swallowing the elaborate rock formation that somehow materialized in his throat the second Satoru landed the Aegean Sea on him. 

Those eyes stretch a million miles and Suguru would happily swim to the end of the earth to experience the entirety of them. 

“No.” A sheepish smile curls up Satoru’s full baby pink lips. Baring a 10,000 kilowatt smile that nearly electrifies him to death.  

Suguru settles an espresso and lavender latte in front of him. Waving away the outstretched credit card. 

“You can call me, you know.” The offer tumbles out of Suguru before he had the wherewithal to edit the frivolous statement.

“What?” Satoru’s gorgeous eyes widen and Suguru digs sharp nails into his sweaty palm.

“Call me.” He’s stupidly bold. 

“—When you can’t sleep. I’m not that interesting and don’t have much to by way of advice given that I only started creating memories a couple months ago. But I’m a good listener.” Suguru’s cheeks ascend in degree with each word of his sloppy rant. 

“You are…” Satoru corroborates his egregious claims as if it’s truth.

How would he know if he’s any good at listening? They just met yesterday morning. 

“So, call me.” Suguru shrugs his shoulders with the familiarity of someone who has known Satoru his whole life. 

Before the voltaic being can protest, Suguru scribbles digits that are plastered all over his apartment walls. Spaced repetition of his own phone number  for fear that his memory would decide to rip away the little he is currently storing. 

Time freezes while Satoru studies the scribbled numbers. His lips form that devastatingly beautiful blue smile more brilliant than his eyes. With the depth of twenty seas combined. 

“Yeah, okay.” The angel captures Suguru gaze. “I’ll call.”

And for the first time his new mind can recall, Suguru is dismantled piece by piece. His insides turned over by the searing pain that is disappointment. Because when he watched the mercurial boy leave the shop. And make the same right turn he did yesterday — Suguru’s heart knew. 

The phone wouldn’t ring.

And the call would never come. 

“Couldn’t exactly have him walking around Shibuya, with everything—“

“I know, but Shoko we can’t…”

Satoru’s voice stalls and he hovers on frustrated feet. Less than 10 paces from facing the love of his life on a Tuesday morning like his world hasn’t been turned upside down.

“We can’t just abandon him here. Alone. Confused. I won’t—“

“What do you want me to do Satoru?” Shoko interjects. Her frustration is palpable, yes, but the point is valid. 

Satoru drags in more liters of air than he knew possible. Letting it all out like storm winds in a category 5 hurricane.

“I don’t..I don’t know but I won’t leave him like this, Shoko. I can’t.” His voice couldn’t convince a fly with how shaky it is. 

But thankfully, Shoko can read him like a children’s book. She always could.

“Let’s talk about this in person. How soon can you get here?”

“I’ll be on the next flight out.” Satoru perks up. Urgency crashing into him like rip tides. 

He eyes the dark-haired barista through the window pane. Adjusting his eyes before fully taking in the boy of his dreams. 

And nightmares. 

Suguru is vibrant. 

In a way that hurts so good you can’t help but come back for seconds. And thirds. Fourths, fifths, whatever scraps he would be willing to give you’d get on your knees and beg for. 

Satoru would. Any day. 

“Hard night?” The former sorcerer calls out. 

“Yeah, but..” Suguru looks up and Satoru relaxes into a lovesick smile. “Good morning.”

A few seconds of wonderfully familiar silence falls between the boys. Suguru flips the espresso cup into place like he was born to do anything.

Anything he touches is artisan. That hasn’t changed in this new universe they exist in. 

“You never called, Satoru.” His voice is sweeter than whipped cream. Satoru gnaws on his cheeks to keep from choking on his desire. 

“I know.”

“I would’ve come.”

“I know.” And the traitorous tears well up without his consent again.

“Okay, okay.” Suguru is hushed. As if a decibel too loud would break Satoru’s dam.

Beautiful boy. 

His dam broke the night Suguru left him on the sidewalk for righteous ideals and the people who would follow them. 

It hasn’t been repaired since. 

“Lavender latte and something sweet. Back table?” Suguru whispers the order to himself and Satoru’s heart breaks. 

“To go, actually.” 

The sudden change in routine startles Suguru still.  “Oh.” 

Satoru rolls his abused lips under his teeth. Shuffling on his feet because it would take nothing for him to stay. And play this new game of life with his soulmate like the rest of it never happened. 

He would swallow the pain of his past everyday if Suguru so much as looks at him a certain way. 

“Why are you leaving?” Suguru’s brows crawl together in a way that’s so earnest. Satoru could fall to his knees. 

“I um…I know a doctor. She’s smart. And m-maybe she can help get your memories back..” 

“A doctor?” 

Suguru probes quicker than Satoru expected. Given that his response sounded insane to even his own ears.

“Honey brown eyes and hair…” The barista speaks to his hands as if he’s reading from cue cards. 

“Satoru this is going to sound crazy.” 

Suguru’s eyes light up and Satoru falls deeper in love. Like it’s the logical next step. An obvious response. 

“But I feel…did we—did we know each other?” 

Those gorgeous, amethyst eyes unravel the heavy chains around Satoru’s heart. 

You knew each other. 

Loved each other. 

Fought for, gave to, sacrificed it all for each other. 

Satoru unravels at his battered seams. Only able to hold the facade of a lopsided smile for a few more moments. 

“It’s a long, bizarre story.” It hurts to laugh. 

“Tell me,” the barista can’t hide his excitement. 

“We..we have time now. You mentioned it the other day, Satoru.” 

This boy will be the death of him. In every lifetime he’s reborn in. 

Satoru doesn’t even try to slap away the hot salty shower lining his sleep deprived eyes. 

“An infinity.” He nods. “So don’t��don’t forget about me, Suguru.”

The sun shines through his romantic smile. The stupid, boyish dimple cratered in his left cheek. 

“How could I?” Suguru hands over the latte and espresso in to-go cups. 

Blissfully unaware that he has already forgotten Satoru once. 

And he forgives him. He’s forgiven the special grade for much worse without question. 

And Satoru will continue to forgive him. 

The memories may be gone. 

The curtain may be closed on their first novel together. But if there’s anything Satoru has come to love it’s time. 

The Gods saw it fit to give them a little more time and Satoru would rather die than squander it. 

“You’re unforgettable, Satoru!” Suguru calls out, just as he exits the small town coffee shop. 

Yeah, well. 

Maybe in this new lifetime, he will be. 

[busarewski]

WiP Wednesday-Barista!AU

Di Feisheng brings some Kringlor to the good Doctor. Will it work? Who knows.

Di Feisheng looked at the electric door bell in front of him. If he pushed the button he would finally know. He could step away from it, ignore the elaborate set up that Granny Li had arranged, and just go on with his life. But he wouldn’t. He needed to know what had happened. Why Li Xiangyi abandoned him. Why he never sought him out. Didn’t he deserve some answers? 

He was holding the bag full of kringlor like a protective shield over his heart. Why had he listened to Granny Li and brought them with him? They were a symbol of what he had become during the last ten years. Something positive, soft and sweet. Well, not too sweet, he hoped. They were both different people now, but Di Feisheng wanted Li Xiangyi to acknowledge him, to admit that they had a past, that it hadn’t just been a dream.

‘Were you going to actually ring the bell, or were you going to hang out in front of the door all night?’

Di Feisheng looked up. The door had opened while he was trying to make up his mind, and Li Xiangyi was leaning against the doorframe. His hair was half-up in a bun, fastened by a wooden stick of some strange looking design. Tiny wisps of hair framed his face, and he was wearing some loose fitting white flowing robe that almost looked like it belonged in a wuxia drama. A vision in white yet again. Li Xiangyi was older, but still so beautiful he took Di Feisheng’s breath away. 

He tried to gather his thoughts, collect some of the anger that had been lingering since earlier this morning, and at least give some kind of answer. Nothing came to mind. Finally he just handed over the bag, and said ‘here, some Swedish Saffron Kringlor. I sure hope you’ll enjoy them  more than the croissants. No layers. Just some sugar.’

Li Xiangyi still had his quick reflexes, and took the bag almost automatically. He half smiled, actually opened the bag and looked down into it. ‘They look fantastic, thank you. Sorry about that, sorry about a lot of things. Do you want to come inside?’

What had happened to the guy since yesterday? It felt like a completely different person was standing in front of him. Di Feisheng could feel the eyes roaming over him as he took a few steps into the flat. The hallway he entered was light and airy, and he could see right through the flat into the living-room.  He removed his shoes and toed on the  available guest slippers while wondering what was going on. Suddenly he heard a sharp noise coming from Li Xiangyi, and he looked over his shoulder back at the man. He was staring at his neck. Oh. Yeah. That.

[rh-confessions]

Floods you with pride headcanons:

DJ Yellow is gay Student is bi Red Rapper is trans and bi Yellow Rapper is ace Both Rap Women are lesbians MC Adore and the Love posse are poly and pan J.J Rocker is bi Disciple is nonbinary and pan Ann Glerr is sapphic lesbian Barista is nonbinary aroace Saffron is bi Saltwater is aroace Paprika is a straight ally

🌺

[treason-and-plot]

[previous]

Anya arrives at the café at three-thirty on the dot to find Saffron already sitting at a table with a coffee. Her face lights up when she sees Anya, and Anya nods and gives a tight smile and orders a latte from the bored-looking barista. She carries it over to the table and sits down, smoothing her skirt over her legs. Saffron’s pale blue eyes travel over her outfit.

“Did you design that yourself?” she says.

“Yeah,” says Anya. “I make most of my dresses.”

“I like it,” says Saffron.

It occurs to Anya that this might be the reason Saffron was so keen for them to meet for coffee- she wants to talk to Anya about making something for her! Anya wonders if it’s a prom dress.

“Thanks,” says Anya. “You know, if you ever need something made I’d be more than happy to do it for you. And I’d charge you the absolute minimum, of course. Just the cost of the fabric-“

“Thanks,” says Saffron. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

She picks up her coffee mug.

“No problem,” says Anya, feeling stung that her hunch was not correct. They sip their coffee. Anya’s isn't hot enough and leaves a bitter aftertaste.

“How’re things with Roy?” says Saffron.

“Great,” says Anya. “Really great.”

Saffron nods and take another sip of her coffee. She looks to be deep in thought. Anya shifts in her seat.

“So, uh, I’m a bit curious about the reason for this meeting?” she says. Saffron glances up sharply.

“Why does there have to be a reason?” she says. “Why can’t we just be two friends having a coffee together?”

Because we’re not actually friends, thinks Anya, then remembers Roy saying that he thought Saffron might be lonely, and feels a little pinch of guilt.  

“Sorry,” she says. “I just thought...you know, it doesn’t matter. I obviously misunderstood.”

“I just thought when I met you that you seemed like a cool chick,” says Saffron. “And don’t you dare tell Roy this, but I kind of respect his judgment, and it’s obvious he thinks you're, like, really amazing, so….yeah. You just struck me as someone I’d like to hang out with.”

“Well, gosh, I’m very flattered!” says Anya, taken aback by Saffron’s candour. “Thanks, Saffron. You seem really cool, too-”

“I totally am," says Saffron, with a jaunty toss of her hair. Then a serious expression steals over her face. “But I’m deadly serious about you not telling Roy stuff. If I tell you something in secret you have to promise not to share it with him. Chicks before dicks, right?”

[c3s6]

List of rhythm heaven characters on Character.com, cuz WHY NOT? (Not in any order at all - duplicates do not count!)

Characters found by typing in “rhythm heaven” into the search bar:

Reporter

Monkey

Tibby (has no pfp)

See and Saw (apparently share the same contact?)

Airboarder guy (idk the name)

Huebird (how did it get on character.com)

Paddler

Karate Joe

MC Adore

Screwbots

The girl from shoot em up

Samurai Drummer

Barista

Tap Trial Girl

Cheer Reader (just one)

Kanojo (not sure if this is the canon name)

JJ Rocker

Cosmic Girl

The WHOLE frog hop band for some reason??

Pop Singer (DS)

Pop Singer (Megamix) (are both pop singers the same person??)

Miss Ribbon

Ann Glerr

All four squadmates? I forgot which game they were from lol.

A Stepswitcher

Chorus Kids

Figure Fighter

Tangotronic’s dance partner

Sumo Brother(s)

DJ Yellow

The red rap girl (is Momoiro her canon name)

The Lumbercats are on here for some reason

One of the members from the Dazzles

Wrestler

Captain Blue Bird

Munchy Monk

The RH Fever girl (is Onnanoko her canon name???)

The martian from First Contact

Dr. Bacteria

The monkey from turbo tap trial

The Red rapper from tengoku

The WHOLE ENTIRE TAIKO RALLY SQUAD????

Saffron

Paprika

Tangotronic

Mako (is this the canon name???)

Rupert

Christina (the assistant and teacher character according to the description. Again is this a canon name)

The pitcher from exhibition match (is koriko the canon name???)

Mr Upbeat

Tanaka Sohshi (is this a canon character or is it a real person idk but i will count it)

Student

Tall Tappers (the ENTIRE group!!)

Shep

Lady Cupid

Donna (has no pfp)

Q Maou

Eglantine (has no pfp)

Characters found by looking up their names (please use the comments to suggest names because i dont remember all the names!)

Marshal

Play-Yan

Plalin and alalin (they share the same contact)

Ones i couldnt find but vaguely remember talking to

Cam? I vaguely remember talking to Cam Rhythm Heaven

Yeah i looked up rhythm tengoku in there

Toss Boys

Space Gramps

These ones arent on character dot com :(

Note. Im serious hes not on here but apparently Rupert who is just as obscure as him is on there

[farizrz]

Morrigan's sisters. Your sisters races can change depend your MC. Only MC first name and last can change. For who wondering if the other sisters playable or not, from based on narrative, only your MC is playable unless they have effect next playable character just like The Princess Swap.

Willow Morrigan: Your MC in this story. Working as Barista at cafe. Her talent is manipulation time (almost like Piper from Charmed). She is can romance Rainier or Kaine.

Saffron "Saff" Morrigan: Your older sister. She is trans. Have rough relationship with her family. Her talent is shapeshifting.

Magnolia "Maggie" Graves/Morrigan: Your lost sistes. For some reason, MC's parents gave her into adoption. Her current job is licensed private investigator. Her talent is dreamwalk. According Rainier about her talent is in the realm between the sleeping and waking worlds.

[chowmoon2]

Alrighty,here is the outline of my ao3 rhythm heaven goat story,I would make this into a actual fic but I’m currently VERY unmotivated, Still,I hope you enjoy this outline of what I have of this weird fic I made up that probably doesn’t make that much sense,(under the cut)

•Story starts with a tale about a race of holy goats that used to fight off demons of all kind but have since been extinct in present day but their descendants still remain… (Probably will not be in the actual story though since it not that relevant to the story)

•Then it cuts to the main goat of our story just after being born in the Stomp Farmer’s Farm alongside her siblings

•Should be noted that she is never really given a name and just refers herself as “The Goat”

•The Goat then describes her life in the farm,with the Stomp farmer taking great care of her and The Goat wanting to explore outside the farm

•She also notes how the Farmer thinks she is a bit different from her siblings by her liking eating a lot more and growing more bigger but brushes it aside

•Then one day,The Goat decides she wanted to sneak out of the farm so she can take a walk and see the outside,Just for a while!

•So when her family and the Stomp Farmer sleep,she sneaks out of the farm’s fence and spots a city not too far from here so she pays a “quick” visit

•While quietly exploring,The Goat gets distracted by a animal (like a bug or a small bird) and goes after it

•Some Goat shenanigans happen

•Eventually she gets too exhausted to go back to the farm and sleeps in a alleyway

•Then when she wakes up,The Got realizes that she is lost in this crowded city

•Some goat angst happens

•Then she encounters The Gatekeeper Trio who is slightly younger and The Goat bonds with Saffron in particular

•After a bit,The Trio try to give her back to the Stomp Farmer but after some consideration,He allows them to keep the Goat mainly because he thinks she is old enough to be taken care of by somebody else

•And so,After a while of being cared for by Saffron,The Goat mellowed out,having a more relaxed and lazy personality in her adulthood

•Then she got sold to the Barista and I’m sure you know the rest

•A epilogue involving the Stomp Farmer perhaps?

And that’s it! If you read to the end,thank you,I apologize if this was a bit messy,then again,this is just a outline so there is a possibility that I could alter/expand of some things, nevertheless I hope you enjoyed this <3

[berrypass-de-murdler]

26. The Murder of a Mailman

SEASON TWO BEGINS

Anyone who's read the episodes up to this point receives infinite kudos because I don't know how to repay you 😭

I also don't know what to say either so I'mma just be a loser

Four more episodes until goat lord

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico goes to the post office and finds two things, an astrology chart and a dead mailman. 

LOGICO: Oh, hilarious.

Who else is there? His neighbors Crimson, Coffee, and the INFAMOUS Mayor Honey (EW). Logico learns some new things such as that letter openers are not allowed in the sorting room because of ‘the Incident’.

COFFEE: Ooh, I remember that day!

He learns some other things too, like the fact that testimonies are kind of crucial.

LOGICO: By my calculations this means… whoever had that GIANT GIFT is a BALD-ASS.  COFFEE: Why do you hate me so much?? 

You Can Trust Mayor Honey, says Secret Admirer. 

LOGICO: Ew, are you sure? SECRET ADMIRER: Positive.

Turns out the reason that Logico hates Coffee so much is because a) he’s killed people in the past and b) he did it today too.

COFFEE: Oh well. A good soldier admits when he’s defeated.

He says that like he just lost a game of chess. Anyway, Logico finds a letter addressed to him. He’s expecting money from Chalk, cuz that bastard owes him money, but it’s an invitation to meet at the Investigation Institute.

LOGICO: There are detectives… other than me?

The end!

Seasons 3-4 have consistently longer episodes dw

Hmmm here's my friend who is in love with Champagne

And!!

a barrage of out-of-context s1 quotes for absolutely no reason

AUREOLIN: I trusted you and your fork, you dumb... fork! LOGICO: Whatever happened to 'thou shalt not kill', you incompetent son of a bitch? LOGICO: I HATE THIS ABSTRACT STATUE!!! LOGICO: I hate leather! Why would you want to wear someone else's skin?? LOGICO: Fuck you, police brutality! GREY: I HATE GARDENING, IT'S FOR GIRLS!!! LOGICO: Good gracious, the dialogue. LOGICO: The fuck is a marot? LOGICO: [manly British sobbing] SAFFRON: Well, hehe, guess I'm going to jail then! CHAMPAGNE: They're serving free drinks over his still-warm body! COFFEE: Welcome to Coffee's Shop! Have you seen the dead barista? "Fuck my life, I want to die..."/"Well not yet, there's been a murder!" LOGICO: Incredibly stupid. Why did I ever admire this author? INK: You're such an ass. Why did you do that? LOGICO: Fuck detective work, I've found my new LIFE! LAVENDER: YACHTS AREN'T FOR PUBLISHING, AND REMEMBER TO TAKE YOUR MEDICINE, CHALKERS!! LOGICO: Please, I'm the main character! He can't do that to me! BLUSKI: I'm really sorry. I was actually trying to kill Logico, and this person was really fat and short, so I thought it was him. MIDNIGHT: I'm not standing. I don't got legs. BLACKSTONE: I just uh omg um hi "What do you need all that paper for??"/"Killing."/"Gee, well, let's not give it away too soon." RASPBERRY: [feminine scream] COPPER: YOU'RE A DETECTIVE FUCKING DO SOMETHING.

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

so despite worldbuilding getting away from me and implying that hoenn's cities are walkable while johto's largely aren't, i've still managed to dodge giving may a driver's license because 1. her family could not afford a second car, and she sure as hell wasn't buying one on barista wages and 2. i just remembered the goldenrod-saffron magnet train and have now decided johto's public transit infrastructure is at the very least decent in larger cities

[deldeldel90]

coffee shop au but it's in the modern au, of Blaine never really knowing what to do next- his father's in prison, his family is off doing their own things, and he never had any time for friends- so basically he's living off a small inheritance in an empty apartment with absolutely no direction in life anymore. taking the rat out the rat race, that type of beat.

so... he needs to get a job, if only to just keep himself busy for a while. if only to just stop- being so isolated. to give himself something to live for.

he enlists in a shop, becoming a barista, and there's bakers in the back and waitresses and the drive-through attendants and everyone, really. they all do their parts.

it's a little local coffee shop and goddamn, is it hell. the customers are... Sometimes okay, but there's also the ones that yell at him and tell him he's ripping them off. or that he's stealing money (like he needs to steal money), or that he's somehow caused it to rain outside and it's all his fault that Tommy is gonna miss his first soccer game.

then, he gets coffee- luckily, it was iced coffee- thrown in his face.

he barely has time to process what's happened when he finds himself yelling back- "you're lucky the damn rain came! Do I look like a wizard? Huh? Tommy was going to lose anyway!" And then, like a complete moron, he tosses a straw through her partially-opened window just as she's driving away.

he wipes his eyes, his face. he's all wet.

The girl with the neon, clunky bracelets and her hair tied up in a non-food safe ponytail bursts out laughing. the overworked girl with the blue hair casts a sharp look to her. the green-haired boy snorts, and hands him a napkin.

"i... Am going to get fired, aren't I," he mourned, rolling his eyes.

The girl-- Syrah- shakes her head. like a demon, she's still smiling. "no, unfortunately. this place is understaffed."

"hell is empty for a reason," saffron chimes in. he's wearing gardening gloves for some reason. "it's because they can't get anyone to work there."

prez frowns. "that's not a very positive mindset..."

Blaine can't help but shoot her a deadpanned glare. He's still soaking wet. This is ridiculous. "we're literally paid seven dollars an hour."

syrah looks back at him with raised eyebrows. "hey! who said the devil was rich?"

Abbi- one of the only alright people here- comes up. "I wish I had rollerskates for this..." She mumbles, and then, "I need a Mocha and a cookie!"

- :)

[montydrawsstuff]

More headcannons!!

Espio was the one who found saffron and thought charmy turned into a girl for a split second

Saffron went through a emo phase:

Imagine that but more emo

Charmy gets forced to settle for his birthday on 04/05 by saffron who somehow new his birthday

Espio hates his own birthday for whatever reason

Vector unironically owns a three person bicycle

Julie su once bought charmy a ps5 due to vector not wanting to get charmy one

Julie su and vector have a sorta sonic - jet rivalry, but much more hatred

Julie su is currently tryna adopt saffron legally

Julie su has every type of gun

Saffrons main hyperfixation is Nights

Julie su works as a barista in a local cafe

Future Espio owns a private investigator service

Julie su is bisexual and she/they

Vector calls charmy 'a silly' after being online for a while, much to the dismay of Espio

Saffron can purr as buff tailed bumble bees can!!

Saffron NEEDS to hug something while going to sleep and while sleeping

Espio has a huge interest in the gone series and is not speed reading it

Mighty plays cluedo with Julie su, ray, Matilda, and saffron, Espio doesn't like the game and vector just goes with espios opinion, and charmy sees it as too complicated

Ray collects Pokémon cards

Saffron misses when she dyed her hair blue

Julie su likes to put saffron and matilda in medieval dresses, and Knuckles in a ballgown

Matilda smiles when saffron gives her little things like honey, flowercrowns, honey bagels, honey tarts

Julie su puts the honey saffron makes into treats and then gets the cafe to use em, everyone likes them

Saffron knows how to make honey and tries to teach charmy the right way, but he thinks he can do it perfectly

Saffrons honey is almost always saffron honey

Charmys honey is mostly sour sometimes

for archie fans ^^

these are all sounding about right haha

[hntedhouse]

saff waits for her to grin and confess that the extra request is just a joke, but when the stranger instead begins to pout and mentions her missing wallet again, saffron's brows rise. she glances over at the barista who's already begun preparing their beverages, and then at the receipt folded in her hand. what can she say ? sorry, an extra large scone is just a little too pricey for me, the widow of a famous guy who owned a private jet ? "it's fine," saff declares instead. she catches the barista's attention and politely requests one of their freshly baked scones. "you're doing me a favor anyway by not holding up the line while you check inside your socks or something for your missing wallet. i'm sort of running late for work." a common position for saffron whether she runs into a particularly needy stranger or not.

head shakes frantically, mimicking the act of defeat. completely disregarding her search, she clutches her bag close to her side. "maybe, maybe it's just misplaced," pretending to hold onto some sort of false hope of a wallet that was never stolen or misplaced, to begin with. "i'm gonna have to spend like all day retracing my steps," her sullen gaze falters to the pavement, only to be lifted seconds later as the stranger so graciously accepts her request. it was like taking candy from a baby, far too easy. "really? you're totally the sweetest. you've made this shitty day like so much better. you have no idea!" there was no lie there, not having to spend her own money on little treats for herself sparked her serotonin. "hm, now that you mention it...i am kind of hungry. i was kind of hoping i could grab a quick bite." a small pout tugged at her bottom lip, testing how far in her scheme she could possibly go. "it's totally no big deal. i'll find my wallet at some point, right?"

[annieyuki-arts]

RELOG CUTE SAFFRON FOR HAPPY STUFFS ( plz give him some coins )