#because your tastes will never completely coincide with someone else’s

[princecosmosanon]

Keep seeing so many “hot takes” about Zukka in particular that basically boil down to “this ship isn’t logical because the characters don’t interact enough” and all I gotta say is…

Shipping has nothing to do with canonical interactions.

If you are limiting ships to “do these characters interact a lot” then fella, I gotta say, you are invalidating so many ships and limiting your imagination to embarrassing extents.

It’s fine if you don’t like a ship. It’s fine if you don’t get a ship. Clearly a ship you aren’t interest in isn’t for you.

But no ship is invalid just because there isn’t much or any interaction between the characters.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Pretty Saviour

Dick Grayson x Metalhead!Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: You save Nightwing and Batman one night in a close call, being stuck with Dick forever warnings: fluff, none, no y/n used a/n: (divider), i know that pic is probably overused but i'm still weak for it.

Ever since you‘ve spontaniously patrolled a new route in your neighbourhood and miraciously saved Nightwing and Batman, that blue bird has been attached by your hip. It‘s not like he annoys you, but sometimes you start to prefer the black bat rather than the overly happy-sunshine vigilante.

Like now, talking your ears off about his favourite band he used to listen to in his angsty teenage years. You don‘t interrupt him, not wanting to make him feel bad about getting some small facts wrong since that band is the most mainstream rock band you have ever seen and heard.

To avoid his constant yapping, you‘ve tried to change your patrol route completely, but it‘s no use. He always finds you and claims it‘s just ‚a lucky coincidence‘.

In reality, Dick has been completely smitten over you from the moment he saw you effortlessly take down several men in front of him who were about to kick his ass. You saved Batman‘s ass too, but he refuses to acknowledge either that fact or you.

Eventually, he continues to talk on and on about that super-cool and ultra-heavy band, really just making you smirk in amusement. There is no need for music at work when you have a walking podcast following you around and helping you take down muggers together with insanely impressive acrobatic skills. You still wonder how his bones move like that, because there‘s no way a normal human being is capable of the same things he does.

But he is just as amazed by you at the same time, always staring as subtly as he can, wanting to take in every detail of your unique suit and accessories you wear with it. Yes, he never saw your face before, but he is in love. It‘s gotten to that point where even Alfred awaits you for dinner any day.

At the moment, he is crouching down beside you at the edge of the rooftop, keeping watch over a troublesome area in this part of the neighbourhood. He glances at you every so often, finally catching a glimpse of your ear under your shagged hair. Dick keeps his eyes on the shiny piercings, eyes widening once he spots the stretched earlobe. It‘s not much, but adds an even extremer look to everything else.

»Woah, you have stretched ears?«

You share a glance at him, tucking some hair behind your ear for him to see better.

»Just noticed?«

He gives you a goofy smile in return and reaches up to lightly touch it, admiring the plug you have in it. It‘s shiny in the moonlight, seeing the spiral design on it. Dick smiles softly at it, keeping his eyes on you while poking it gently.

»Cool.«

He sounds like an amazed child who sees the ninja turtles for the first time. It‘s amusing and also flattering to know that someone as big and strong thinks you are cool.

The patrols always have some kind of routine between the two of you. You both take a break at some point, making him discover another small detail about you and asking questions for the rest of the few hours. He has also learnt about the bands you listen to from your various pins and patches on your vest, listening to some of their songs once he gets back home. Just to expand his music taste and playlist, of course.

But he won‘t lie; he loves every single detail and fact about you, likes how casual you are when explaining new stuff to him, or gets into your element if he luckily asks you about an interesting topic. Like, the evolution of the emo and metal scene throughout the years. It‘s as if you get even more passionate talking about those than beating and locking up criminals.

Dick has learned a lot from you already, considering himself an expert at this point because of how detailed you explain certain topics and bands to him. Even his brothers know some stuff about certain bands because he can‘t stop talking about you around them. Every time you aren‘t around, he misses you a lot more than he‘d like. It‘s a shame you haven‘t exchanged any kind of socials or numbers because of your safety. This is one thing he is starting to hate every day more and more about you. The fact that he can‘t contact you in any way is humiliatingly sad.

And every once in a while, he gets you small gifts. Such as new pins of that one band you once mentioned to him, new ear plugs with a cool design, and silly stickers he knows you‘ll like.

You have a total of fifteen pins, four pairs of new gauges for your ears, and an endless amount of stickers because they‘re too easy to find. All from Dick, from the past month.

These gifts and the way he always listens and remembers details about your interests make you fall harder and harder for him. At first, you didn‘t really see the appeal of him. But now, hanging out with him unwillingly, has shown you just how cute and attentive he really is. You even got him a shirt of his own favourite band one day, and it seemed like he would drop down to one knee and propose at any moment. But he held himself back, he still has some self-control after all.

Once he noticed the new style in your hair, he really tried to think of ways on how to impress you in more ways than knowledge. He tried to convince Alfred to dye his hair blue, or at least get some stripes into it, but he refused, saying he shouldn‘t make impulsive decisions like that. But once Dick mentioned it‘s because you got these silly stripes and racoon tails in your hair, he teased him for the rest of the evening of his painfully obvious crush.

»I just like their style!«

»That‘s what you have been telling us for the past three months.«

And it went on with Dick showing you endless tricks and athletics, explaining the theory of each move and how to not break your neck while doing so. You are impressed by his skills, it feels like being children again, showing each other what cool stuff you know and are able to do, getting still impressed by the easiest and normal stuff.

You both go on bike rides together from time to time, competing sometimes as well. He is able to do wheelies, but that‘s a little too dangerous for you to copy.

Eventually, your friendship got really close after those three months of patrolling together and sharing knowledge with each other, of Dick making a fool of himself just to impress you in some way, and endless small gifts.

Despite everything, you‘re trying to keep it professional with him some way. But it doesn‘t help when he is using every single opportunity to touch or stay close to you. It‘s not like you are complaining, you secretly enjoy him being more touchy and sweet to you. You mostly mask it with being playful and pretending to not get the subtle hints he is dropping at you.

There‘s still some sort of trust you have to gain from him in order for you to reveal your identity to him, even when he is smart enough to find it out himself. But he won‘t do it, both in respect towards you and in hopes you will actually trust him enough some time to reveal yourself.

←MASTERLIST

a/n: an open ending, how original. anyway, hope you enjoyed it!!

[akutasoda]

ambrosial spices

synopsis - some opposites attract like a complimentary dish

includes - jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, more fluff, maybe ooc??, wc - 554

a/n: what is this? i don't know. new jiaoqiu scenes just got me thinking and there was someone talking about food and i immediately thought of this man-

some say opposites attract. a saying that has been repeated over and over, even by some may use to describe complementary pairs that seem oh so different yet work together perfectly. some might even say that opposites do attract but they drift away eventually, but you were confident that that wouldn't happen.

loving jiaoqiu was a task in itself. as pretty as the foxian was, he tended to be rather cunning and that didn't exactly go well with the smile that he always wore in public - it made him always seem rather shifty. rumor was that he even withdrew from his practice because of a broken heart, so gossipers among the yaoqing had a field day when your relationship with the chef became speculation.

you two were truly the definition of opposites. there was jiaoqiu who was sly and rather conceited, a chef that made redolent dishes in the means of providing healing. and then there was you, a content being that offered honeyed greetings to yaoqing residents, even helping to keep the yaoqing a pleasant place to live under merlin claws guidance.

your relationship was like adding something saccharine to a peppered dish. on the outside, it seemed the same but if you were to have a taste, one could note how the flavor subsided from a dancing flame to a simmering ember that coincided with it’s newly introduced sweetness.

and if somebody asked, you would say that jiaoqiu’s love was like a cup of warm spiced chai - the kind that usually comes very spicy but with personal preferences, can be milder and sweet. sure they may look at you weird but you knew jiaoqiu, and you knew your jiaoqiu.

you met the jiaoqiu who was a celebrated medicinal chef who was renowned for well seasoned remedies that left the patient with a piquant aftertaste for days. the one that was praised and celebrated for his skill even if he was completely insufferable sometimes - especially with patients who refused to take their medicine or complained about the spiciness of his dishes.

but you became much more acquaintanced with your jiaoqiu - the foxian who knew your food preferences like the back of his hand, even if they didn't align with his. you'd watch from the kitchen doorway - you knew how passionate he got when cooking and you most often would be shooed out of the kitchen - as he prepared a meal for you and you'd observe how he stared at the food horrified. you would witness him dramatically pinch his nose and sigh before he added a certain ingredient or two because all though, never in a thousand years, he would've imagined making such a dish, he did it for you.

jiaoqiu never complained to your face and if anything, he always still probably presented those dishes to you because he knew you liked them. sure he'd rather die than eat such a dish and he always added his preferences after he plated your meal, but nothing could take away from that smile of yours that made his day when you thanked him.

yes, you two had different preferences. yes, you two led different lives but at the end of the day, some would say that you only complimented the other perfectly, because you both knew that he wouldn't do that for anyone else.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[drpoisonoaky]

Whoa she has fallen deep

They realize how deep Katara has fallen for Azula. Because they simp for each other a lot.

Suki.

Suki needs to vent with someone. She loves her job, truly but sometimes…So when she saw Katara sitting there she knew she could help her. Katara is a great listener.

Even though it was weird she wasn’t looking at her at all. “I feel the new girls didn’t have discipline.”

“Aha” 

“Okay that sounds like she is answering in automatic and what she is looking at” As she followed Katara’s gaze she saw Azula and Ty lee talking. “Maybe it’s a coincidence”

Seeing Ty Lee there only reminded her why she was mad with the girls. “They only want to learn chi-blocking. And yes being able to chi-block is helpful but you have to train every day.”

“Absolutely” 

“She’s definitely answering in automatic but let’s check just in case”

“Where are they going to learn to fight mongoose dragons with their bare hands?”

“Right” Suki was astonished, Katara was really that disconnected. “Or how to fly.”

“Yep” Suki didn’t even know what else said to her. “Whoa she has fallen deep” 

“Absolutely” replied Katara without any question by Suki. 

“I had enough,” Suki thought. “TY LEE, AZULA COME HERE.” as she yelled that Katara broke her trance. 

“At your service boss” said Ty Lee as soon as she and Azula came close, while she made a military salute. 

“What do you want?” Azula replied slightly annoyed. 

“I want to have a conversation with Katara but she can’t. She only looks at you and answers in an auto pilot.”

As she heard Suki Katara blushed “Hey, that's not true. I-”

“Oh now she can say non affirmation sentences.” At least she wasn't mad with her girls anymore.

“Don’t blame her, I'm gorgeous.” declared Azula smirking.

“Kyoshi have mercy.”

Sokka.

Azula and Zuko were training for a while, well Azula was playing with Zuko because she already trained today and Zuko got along with it. 

Sokka knows nothing about firebending, but he knows he needs her sister’s help. The same sister who only looks at those without even noticing him. 

“Katara'' No reponse. “Maybe she didn’t hear me”

“Katara?” Nothing. 

“Earth calling Katara” Nope. 

Sokka looked at her closer. “Let’s taste the water’s” 

“I think I’m going to kill a bunch of kids just for fun.” And still, no response. Sokka was starting to worry but then, as Zuko hit the floor loudly, he realized she was focused on what Azula was doing “Whoa she has fallen deep” 

So he knew he had to bring the big guns.

“AUCH WHAT WAS THAT FOR??” 

“My old buddy never fails,” said Sokka after kissing his boomerang. “Stop looking at her, clean your droll and help me to move these boxes.”

“I wasn’t looking-… I was trying-…I WAS DROOLING.” Katara said, completely blushed.

“Your girlfriend lies way better.”

Toph.

Toph sensed Azula as soon as she entered the room, but what she sensed the most was the backflip Katara’s heart did.

“Sugar Queen, I think you’re having a heart attack.” 

“What? No. I’m cool, totally chill.” 

“Why are you talking like your brother?” questioned Toph. 

“I do not sound like Sokka”  

On the opposite side of the room Sokka was chatting with Zuko and Azula. 

“But I said to him “No bro, I’m cool, totally chill” and he believed it.” Call it perfect timing.

“I am blind not deaf.” As soon as she said that, Katara started to defend herself, as if Toph said anything to attack her. She was only worried.

“Well your “abilities” must be failing because I’m perfect.” 

“What is wrong with her”

Toph didn’t sense Azula approaching.

“Of course you are perfect” 

“Oh Hey- Hi- What’s up?” replied Katara blushing and like she had forgotten how to speak.  

“Is she really that bad? She was fine 5 seconds before Azula…” As she realized this Toph started to smile mischievously. 

“Are you plotting something against me?” Ask Azula joking.

“WHAT NO” Katara said quickly and loudly.

So Toph decided to play a little bit once she knew her friend wasn't going to die “Her sweetness here was doubting my “abilities”.”

Azula tilted her head while looking at Katara “And you said I am the weird one.” 

“Anyways I was talking to Zuzu and Sokka and they are making me go to the theater today so you are coming with me.” 

“It’s not optional, and we have to wear something nice.” added Azula quickly. After that she got close to Katara and kissed her cheek quickly. Toph senses how Katara’s heart gives a full gymnastic performance “Whoa she has fallen deep”  thought Toph.

“I don’t get a kiss?” Toph asks Azula knowing fully well that won’t happen.

“You should be even asking for one without taking a bath first.” 

“I girl have to try.”

After that Azula was out of the picture. Leaving a speechless Katara.

“Well at least I know why you are suffering a heart attack.” 

“I am no-” 

“Don’t even try.”

Zuko

Zuko was having a cup of tea with Azula and Katara in the gardens. Because it was a great day and Zuko needed advice. 

“And I know I am more approachable than the other Fire Lords, but I like to walk without being stopped all of the time. Mai doesn’t want to walk with me anywhere.” he stopped his rambling and looked at her sister “Are you even listening to me?” 

Azula was with her eyes closed enjoying the sun while Zuko spoke. She actually was paying attention but the sun felt great.

“Of course I am.” said Azula without opening her eyes or moving.

“So?” 

“Don’t stop with anyone anymore. Challenge some of them to Agni Kai.” 

Zuko looks annoyed at her not knowing if she really believes that or she simply wants to make fun of him.

So instead of picking a fight he decided to get a second opinion. 

“Katara?” 

Katara has been looking mesmerized at Azula enjoying the sun like she was the only thing that matters. But as Zuko asks her directly she knows she has to answer something.

“I am Katara.” Even after talking as if her brain didn’t work anymore at all she didn’t look away 

Zuko stared at her blankly. “Whoa she has fallen deep”.

“Great, your pity party broke my girlfriend.” complained Azula while she stopped to enjoy the sun and look at Zuko.

But in that moment, before Zuko could reply, they heard a loud “NO” from Katara when she saw Azula move from her previous position.

Knowing that he wouldn’t get the help he needed and being a little bit angry at these two, Zuko woke up to leave.

“Geez, I get it. I ask Aang. I don’t know why I even ask you two. One is mean and one is drooling over the mean one.”  He looked at them narrowing his eyes and left.

“Were you drooling?” said Azula smirking.

“I’m breaking up with you.” replied Katara, staring at her and pouting.

“Sure but first let’s keep enjoying the sun for a while”

Aang

When Aang asked Azula to teach him lightbending he knew it would be weird. But at the moment she saw Katara sitting near watching them, he confirmed it.

“You know when I asked you to teach me lightbending I didn’t visualize the audience.” 

Azula was finishing her arm wraps, almost ready to train and without looking at him said “It’s just Katara. She asked me to be here. Maybe she didn’t trust us with lightning. The last time we gave her a lot of work.” 

“Only Azula could describe like that killing me with lightning” 

“She also was my waterbender teacher, now I have double pressure” 

Azula was already done when he look at him “It’s just Katara”

“Yeah I know. But-”

“Is it because I’m dating her?” Ask Azula, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean yeah but more in- no- just- Agh.” 

“So for you it is weird that your ex-girlfriend, who still is your friend and now my girlfriend, is watching us training together when I killed you and she brought you back to life?” said Azula looking at Katara. As a response Katara gave them a thumbs up clearly not hearing what they were talking.

“It isn’t for you?” 

Azula looked at Aang for a second and shrugged 

“I have to deal with hallucinations of both of my parents. This is a walk in the park compared to that.” Aang stared at her, surprised that she talked about that with him. 

“Plus if you have lived in an Iceberg for a century you can deal with a bit of awkwardness. “ she added after that. Then she started to walk to the center of the training facility.

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I usually am. Let’s start.”

Azula turned out to be a good teacher and after a while he could create a little lightning.

“LOOK SIFU AZULA IS A LITTLE SPARK.” It was little and weak he made it. 

Azula looked at him with a little smile. Aang was happy and his happiness was contagious.

“If I was Ozai I would make you increase that until it wasn’t embarrassing to look at, even though it probably breaks you today. But I am not. So we shall continue tomorrow?” 

Aang looked at her slightly worried, “I can’t fathom what that man did to her…Wait, has she asked him to continue tomorrow?” 

“It  would be my honor sifu Azula”

As soon as Aang was done with her bow Katara appeared as she was in a hurry.  “Maybe she’s going to scold me”

“Hey Kata-” but when Aang looked at her he realized she never intended to talk to him. “Is she angry?” 

The good thing is Azula looked just as confused as him. But before he can ask her what’s wrong she starts to speak looking at Aang.

“So are you done? You are done. Good. Nice flame Aang.” 

“Did she just say nice flame? We don’t…what was she looking at?!” Aang was more confused at every moment.

Then Katara looked at Azula and the rambling started.

“Azula, you were great.. The best. Who would have thought you trying to help makes you look so h- makes you a great individual…makes you-”

Azula looked confused at first but then she was smirking. 

“Whoa she has fallen deep” Aang thought, looking at Katara when she stopped “speaking” and only stared at Azula .

“Azula, let's go now.” 

“Of course as a great individual it is my duty to help. See you tomorrow, Avatar.” Then they disappear from the Avatar line of sight. 

“Well at least I know how to produce a little lightning.”

Ty lee 

Ty Lee was walking around the palace going to see Suki. When she stopped and saw Azula was training. She was an ass sometimes but her fire was something beautiful. If it wasn’t against you obviously.

“Oh hey are you looking for Suki?” Katara was leaning against a pillar. “She probably was watching Azula,” concluded Ty Lee.

“Yes, well I know where she is, so I was going to” Ty Lee stopped herself when she saw a big blue flame surrounding Azula creating a circle.

“Even after all these years, watching her training is astonishing” said Ty Lee watching Azula, then she turned to Katara “It is crazy because I have seen her millions of times. For some time it was like a routine”.

Katara looked at her with a weird look. So Ty Lee thought “Shit I make it weird” 

“Not that I want to watch her like that anymore. It is just a memory. I mean her bending is still beautif-” As Ty Lee kept talking and Katara’s face was even weirder. “Okay maybe I should just shut up. Is it awkward? Of course it is I mean we dated and we have so good memorie- Nope I’m not talking anymore ”

“Agni please help me”

“Oh no Ty Lee is fine, it’s not awkward, quite the opposite. You know Azula, I love to hear more stories about her from an external source plus you two are friends, well you are my friend too. I mean not that clos-”

“Well at least she also is rambling. Is that part of Azula’s type?”

As if she was invoked by Ty Lee’s thoughts, Azula appears next to her. 

“So now I am a show? Maybe I should join the circus” she had a playful smile on her face.

“So I would get the chance to burn your safety net?” Honestly that was water under the bridge but teasing Azula is funny. Well, when she isn’t in a killer mood.

“I would never put one there at the first place, that’s for cowards”

As they started to bicker Katara only was staring at Azula with that expression. Ty Lee still hasn’t figured out what that gaze means until.

“She was looking at her as she was the best thing in the world, so that’s why she gave me that look she wasn’t jealous she was proud” So when Azula turned back to Katara, Ty Lee paid attention to Katara's gaze and only could think “Whoa she has fallen deep”.

[nakachuchu]

A Taste of Summer | Hayakawa Aki

SYNOPSIS: He first saw you on a hot day and couldn't take his eyes off of you.

READER: female

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 01/01/2023

It was a hot day full of annoyed grunts and sweaty armpits when he first met you. His uniform was stuck to his skin and he felt like running into the ocean and living there until the summer ended.

You were purchasing flowers to put on your parents' graves as it was the day of their deaths. You missed them, but it didn't bother you much anymore because what was done was done.

He thought you were beautiful. Nothing was outstanding or peculiar about you. You were simply radiant, passing by him with the smell of sunflowers and jasmine.

He looked at you, but you didn't look at him. You were too focused on the flower bouquet in your arms as you calmly walked down the hot street under the blazing sun.

The world was full of corrupt humans and bloodthirsty Devils, and you seemed completely at peace with the cards you were dealt.

Once you had passed his line of sight, he focused his gaze forward once more. He had a mission to finish, after all, and he couldn't be bothered to have his mind filled with thoughts of a beautiful woman.

He couldn't wait to finish his mission and go back home and turn on his air conditioning. At the moment, he didn't care at all that his electricity bill would rise.

He didn't expect to see you again the next day, standing in his apartment complex's corridor. The two of you locked eyes for the first time and you offered him a soft smile.

"Hi, I'm L/N Y/N. I'm going to be your neighbor."

He stared at you in a mixture of astonishment and confusion. What were the odds the same beautiful woman he had just encountered and thought of from time to time would move next door?

Devils may have been real, but he never believed in God. If God was right, his parents and brother wouldn't have died. But, the coincidence was too good to be true.

"Hayakawa Aki."

You smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Hayakawa-san. I'll be in your care from time to time, then," you said with a bow.

"Ah — yes," he said, responding to your bow.

"You work for the organization?"

He was a bit taken aback, eyeing with suspicion. "How did you know?"

You chuckled. "Your uniform. The suits."

"Ah. Sorry."

You shook your head. "It's all right. Better to be safe than sorry. Public or private?"

"Public."

You nodded. "Thank you for your hard work. Stay safe, Hayakawa-san."

"You as well, L/N-san."

The two of you bid your goodbyes. Aki locked his door to head to work, while you unlocked your doors to begin unpacking your belongings from the brown boxes.

You had gotten to know Aki, having lived in the same building and hallway as him for a whole year now.

Today was a full year since you moved, and because Aki was the first person you befriended, you decided to do something nice to celebrate it.

Of course, you never knew when he got home because his schedule wasn't very precise, so you took your time baking. You decided to bake a cake, choosing chocolate since he just seemed like a chocolate type of man.

You played music throughout your apartment on a speaker, wanting to enjoy the baking process as much as you could. You loved baking, but baking for someone else in mind was truly better than baking for yourself.

Aki could hear the loud music coming from your apartment as he walked down the hallway and stood in front of his door to unlock it.

If it was anyone else, he would have politely knocked and kindly asked them to turn it down. But since it was you, he was fine with it.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside, letting out a hefty sigh as he loosened his tie. He was a man of routine when he arrived home, doing things in specific steps; taking off his suit, placing it neatly on the chair in his room, taking off his underwear and socks to put in the laundry room, and then drawing a bath, and so forth.

His apartment wasn't a loud place. The volume on the television would be at an appropriate level and the music he played on occasion would be even quieter, its main purpose being background noise on certain days when he felt his apartment was too quiet.

He had just gotten out of the bath when his doorbell rang. Hair dripping wet and body damp, he didn't want to put on clothes just yet but he didn't want the person behind the door to wait long.

"Just a moment," he called out.

Having heard him, you waited patiently outside, holding a beautifully crafted chocolate cake on a cake platter.

When the door opened, his hair was let down and damp. He wasn't expecting to see you and immediately straightened up, opening the door further.

"Y/N."

The two of you called each other by first name long ago after he helped unclogged your kitchen sink's drain on a Sunday evening when every plumber nearby had clocked out.

"Aki," you said brightly, holding the cake out. "Happy one year of being friends and neighbors. I made it. I hope you like chocolate."

He blinked, staring at the cake. He couldn't remember the last time someone made something just for him with him in mind.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked. "We can share."

"If you'll have me."

"Of course," he responded, moving to the side so that you could walk in.

You placed the cake on the kitchen table, turning to open the drawer of knives and utensils while Aki grabbed two plates.

You knew where everything was, and it warmed his heart in such an easy and domesticated way. It wasn't your first time in his apartment. The two of you had grown closer than friends, but when asked, you two were friends.

It was a comfortable agreement, but Aki wanted more now. Seeing you slice a chocolate cake you made just for the two of you made him emotional.

He stood behind you, sliding his hands up your bottom to the side of your hips. He pressed his body close to yours, but not tight enough to make you feel like prey.

"Aki?" you questioned.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

His voice was soothing and sent tingles down your body. You melted into him, pressing your shoulder blades against his broad chest.

"Yes," you answered.

He was so thankful for you and happy to be with you that he forgot how dangerous the world was. He was too optimistic with you, but he learned his lesson. He would no longer open his heart and soul to another.

Just like the first time he saw you in the summer, you died on the streets under the blazing sun.

[asteria-argo]

Care to share more about To All The Better Places?

To All The Better Places

I absolutely would love to share more about to all the better places. It's actually the first fic I ever started writing for Ted Lasso.

Essentially it's my take on "what would happen if instead of going on Lust Conquers All when he quit Man City, Jamie just disappeared off the face of the earth to lead a normal life" and I personally think Jamie would be a really good teacher.

The gist of it is that Jamie quits Man City, and football as a whole, thanks to a Ted induced crisis of self and also a lot of not being able to handle the pressure of being around his Dad constantly again after getting a taste of freedom in Richmond. So Jamie quits, and with nowhere else to go and in desperate need of a fresh start, Jamie returns to Richmond where he decides to go to university and get his degree to be a teacher.

Now the actual fic takes place after all of this, five years later when Jamie now has a fully established life in Richmond as a teacher with friends and a dog and probably a therapist. He hasn't had anything to do with football for years and honestly he kind of prefers it that way because he likes who he is a lot more without football in his life when through complete coincidence, the Greyhounds end up doing a mentorship program at the school Jamie is teaching at.

Cue Shenanigans obviously, as the team are abruptly confronted with the knowledge that Jamie Tartt quit football to become a third grade teacher and also has apparantly been in Richmond for five whole years right under their noses while everyone had thought he'd fucking died or something, and everything that entails but also Cue some angst about not being able to escape your past self even when you try to bury them and knowing that no matter how much you've changed the worst version of yourself will live on in someone's memory and that is just a fact you have to reckon with.

Anyway I got distracted writing other stuff so I never finished it but one day, I will come back to it and until then it will live rent free in my mind

[raspberrypie4u]

Aight aight this took me longer than I'd expect

Name? None of your business, address me by my username or make up a nickname for me, i dont really mind

Pronouns and gender? He/Him cis guy

Sexuality? Bi

Country? Old Blighty (England)

Top 5 fandoms - Star Trek, Fullmetal Alchemist, JJBA, TF2, Warhammer?

Most forbidden snack? One of those orange pucks of plutonium that look like gummy sweets

Would I pet a bug? I like to think so but I feel like I would change my mind if presented with a bug big enough to be "pettable"

Weird fact/story about myself - I know the Kings and Queens of England song off by heart (hate the monarchy though)

What does blue taste like? Idk I don't have synesthesia

Most beautiful thing I've ever seen was when I was a-strolling through darkened streets in the blackened depths of a winter evening, and I looked up randomly and saw a shooting star (or comet or smth like that) completely by coincidence

Stupidest thing I've ever done - accidentally called my friend's step-dad "daddy" as a joke while he was entering the room

Stupidest thing I've seen someone else do? Brexit

Hyperfixation song? Anything by Jamiroquai

Pfp and name? Pfp because I love Studio Ghibli, name because when I made it several years ago the raspberry pi had just come out (I have never used one but somehow one has fallen into my possession)

Dream career as a kid? probably a police officer or something cringe like that

Dream career as an adult? Something to do with engineering maybe? That or the person on the commune who has the nicest veggie garden :3

Thoughts on corriander? I don't have many thoughts on corriander

Banned from a location? No

Cursed food combo? Ok so this was in a cook book in fairness but basically: heat sausages in a pan, add a chopped-up apple, a chopped-up small onion, a spoonful or two of mustard (yellow or dijon, nothing stronger I'd say), spoonful of sauerkraut if you like it, and then wait till the mixture browns a little. Add a little bit off beer and wait till it mostly reduces. Enjoy your Mustard-and-Beer braised sausages :)

Trans rights? Trans Rights

@dildovagins2137 @genericbethesdafan @ahamkaracature @theoneofwhomisblue

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

[anthrophile1-blog]

So, this is my first original theory.

I say original because I’ve never seen someone else make this observation, and I spend an unhealthy amount of time crawling tumblr for new Byler content. But it’s completely possible that someone else has had this thought before. If so, feel free to link other blog posts in the comments. But I think I’m onto something here, and it’s all about Will Byers’ Neck Tingles™️.

One thing I’ve noticed in S3 & S4 is that almost every time Will gets his neck tingles, it occurs in conjunction to him reacting to an emotionally charged encounter with Mike. We’re made to think he gets this feeling when the mind flayer is doing something, but if that were the case his neck should be tingling every second of season 3, because in that season the Mind Flayer has a very physical presence in Hawkins and is working tirelessly to execute his plan. So why does Will only sense his activity at seemingly random times and not constantly? And if they’re *not* random, can we find a pattern? I think we can, and it actually has nothing to do with the Mind Flayer. It has everything to do with Mike.

I posit this question for your consideration: Could Will’s feelings for Mike be a doorway into his mind for the Mind Flayer / One to call out to him? Could he be reminding Will of his presence every time Will feels lonely or hurt or ashamed because of his feelings for Mike? Almost like an invitation for Will to join him, an offer to fill the void Mike is leaving in Will’s heart?

Moving forward let’s define what Will’s neck tingles actually are: extra sensory perception - meaning the ability to sense something through means other than sight, sound, taste, touch, or smell; think a “sixth sense.” This sense is presumably caused by the connection the Mind Flayer / One made with him when he possessed him, exposure to the upside down when he was kidnapped by the demogorgon, or a combination of both. Alternatively Will may have already had this “true sight” prior to the events of S1, and he was targeted for kidnapping and possessing because he had the power. Either way, by the time we get to S3, Will has the extra sensory ability to feel the Mind Flayer’s / One’s presence. But what triggers this feeling in the show is unclear.

The first time we see Will get this feeling he’s having his movie date with Mike. Now, it seems obvious that he felt the Mind Flayer / One’s (hereafter, just One) presence in this case because the gate re-opened at that precise moment. The key is activated, the power goes out across town, One’s connection to Hawkins is reestablished, and Will’s neck tingles. So it’s easy to assume that Mike had nothing to do with that feeling in this scene. Nevertheless, moments later they’re both bright red in the face blushing after Mike notices something off with Will and checks in and they end up locking eyes a bit longer than necessary (not to mention the mutual lip-looking). The scene is already highly suggestive of romance: they’re basically on a double date with lumax, they’re sitting together apart from the other couple, they both just stuck their hands in the same candy bag at the same time, etc.

(Another thing, what triggers Mike’s concern for Will here? Mike doesn’t see the look of fear growing on Will’s face. He doesn’t see Will touching the goose flesh on his neck. Will doesn’t say anything or really make a sound. Will does nothing that should get Mike’s attention except… start breathing differently? Like, Mike heard Will’s breathing change and got concerned? Oh my God that boy has it bad. That’s got nothing to do with my theory, I just think it’s sweet.)

Getting back on track, the gate opens and Will feels it, exactly at the moment he’s having a romantic evening with the boy he loves. I think we’re misdirected by the cut to the gate opening and the power outage to distract us from the romantic nature of their evening. And while it may have just been a coincidence that the gate opens while they’re having this romantic evening, many of the following neck tingles moments also coincide with important moments between Will and Mike, developing something of a pattern.

The next time we see it happen is when the gang is walking up the hill to assemble cerebro. We see that a bunch of possessed rats are scurrying by in the field near them. We’re led to believe this close proximity to One’s activity is what gives Will this neck-tingly feeling. But he is elsewhere in the season in close proximity with flayed beings and doesn’t get the neck tingles. What does happen right before he feels it, and before we see the rats, is that Mike ditches him to be with El and we see how sad this makes Will. Again, could sadness over losing Mike to El be the thing that lets One into Will’s mind?

The next moment occurs while Will is destroying castle Byers immediately after his friend-breakup with Mike. Now, if his tingles are about proximity, there is no explaining why he has this episode at this moment. It also appears to be the most intense feeling of One’s presence yet, as when Mike and Lucas find him his there is a determined look on his face and his eyes look nearly crazed. He is now certain that the Mind Flayer is back. But, why now? If my theory is right, this was the most emotionally intense moment he’s ever had with Mike, leading to a full blown emotional breakdown - sobbing, hyperventilating, outbursts of destructive behavior. So the most intense Mike-moment so far happens just before his most intense feeling of One’s presence. Coincidence?

The next time Will feel it is during the sauna test and, before we begin, I just need to ask…How tf does Mike know the exact layout of the men’s locker room and gym? Is Mike a secret athlete who pumps iron and sweats in the sauna on weekends? Doubtful. Obviously all of the kids would have come to this pool on summer days growing up, but it seems like only Mike has done any exploring in the gym. I wonder what would motivate that little guy to explore the layout of the mens gym and locker room 🤔

Mooooooving on. This one is interesting, because no major Mike-and-Will moment happens in this episode; rather, the whole episode is one giant Mike-and-Will moment. For one, the two are in near constant physical proximity, even after having just gone through an unresolved fight. Like, they’re glued to each other. If this is how they fight, god help us when they’re a couple and having a good day together. For two, both Will and Mike undergo some important character building moments through the episode. Mike attempts to apologize to El but is rebuffed and discovers that El spied on him, causing a serious rift in trust for Mike. Will is on the other end of an apology, this time from Lucas, but he rebuffs Lucas saying that he didn’t care anymore and that there were more important matters at hand. I suspect the former statement is a lie even if the latter statement is true. Will is running from his heartache by jumping into action. And jumping into action just so happens to put him back in the mix with Mike in a way that is comfortable and familiar. Hence how close they stick to each other despite still technically “fighting.” For Mike’s side of that equation, he clearly feels horrible for how he treated Will, and is compensating for that by being even more attentive to him than usual. Notice how close they’re standing to each other, specifically when they’re conducting the sauna test itself.

And so we get to the neck tingle moment. We as the audience already know Billy is possessed, and the kids have more or less figured it out. So we don’t need Will’s neck to tell us what we already know. Nevertheless, it happens, and it is Mike and Mike alone who notices Will getting the feeling. Mike alone who understands what Will is trying to communicate and warns max to get away from the door just in the nick of time. (And it’s Mike who can’t tear his eyes off of Will even while trying to warn max). The neck tingle here is the catalyst into an intimate moment between the two of them, further solidifying for each other and for the audience just how close their bond is, how in tune they actually are with each other, and how that bond is critical for the survival of the group.

Also, consider how homoerotic this whole episode is. Two gay (if I’m right) teen boys in the throes of puberty in a men’s locker room, surrounded by half naked men, laying plans to capture a man in the sauna, all culminating in established teen heartthrob Billy Hartgrove nearly naked, trapped in the sauna… the whole goddamn thing is just so queer. So Will has another episode of neck tingles during what is arguably the most homoerotic sequence in the show? Lol

Next, the party is at the hospital with Nancy and Jonathan as they seek to check on Mrs. Driscoll. Now, multiple flayed beings are in this hospital at this moment, but Will doesn’t sense them until they die and merge into one. This is further evidence that proximity doesn’t seem to be the trigger for Will’s extra sensory perception. The first thing that tips off Will that something paranormal is afoot before anyone else notices isn’t his neck. It’s the lights. They start to flicker and Will notices first, and then everyone else. The neck tingle only come when the creature in the hospital is fully formed, but by then everyone already knows nancy and Jonathan are in danger. But what do we see right before the neck tingles, and right before the lights start to flicker? Will sitting at the end of the row of chairs, third wheeling hard and not feeling good about it.

While again we are led to believe that the monster’s formation is the sole reason Will gets his neck tingles, once again the tingles “coincidentally” happen right after Will has been clearly upset by Mike and his relationship with El. Mike has just initialed the “make-up” phase of his totally straight relationship with El, and literally shooed Will away to have that moment (even though Mike does a full hate-to-see-you-go-but-love-to-watch-you-leave body scan of Will as he’s walking away). And then we see Will sitting miserably as the ultimate third wheel - all of his other friends (including his best friend/love of his life) are coupled up and he’s by himself. Fuckin rough, kid.

The next tingle event happens at Hopper’s cabin. Interestingly enough, despite the Monster initiating its final phase, assimilating all of its sleeper cells in the community, and charging full speed to the cabin, Will doesn’t feel anything. Not until Nancy, Mike, and Lucas piece it together: the mindflayer knows where they are. Even as they’re piecing it together, slowly, it’s only when Mike has his “ah-hah…oh-no” moment that Will feels his presence coming. Up until this point, the neck tingles have been a plot device to alert our characters (and us) to imminent danger. But here the characters (and we) figure it out before Will feels anything. It serves no real narrative purpose (unless it’s to say he has the worlds most useless superpower) except to link this ability to his relationship with Mike. Will sees Mike having his realization, and *then* he feels the monster’s imminent presence.

Two more observations about this episode: First, Will did not sense the piece of the monster inside of El the whole time between when she gets “bit” at the cabin, and when she feels it squirming inside of her at the mall. He didn’t feel it’s presence inside of her in the grocery store, even though the very blood El left on the floor was teeming with mind flayer particles. (Also, bruh. Why were Will and Mike basically in each other’s laps in that “new coke” scene? Like, there was plenty of space on the edge of that {fruit section} cooler. They didn’t have to be on top of each other. Keep in mind they’re still this close *after* a fight they have yet to resolve).

Second, Mike is the one who rips off the piece of the creature attached to El’s leg, causing obvious physical trauma to her in the process, also possibly causing that piece to be ripped off and left inside of her. A more careful approach of removal might have spared her the loss of her powers and prevented One’s absorption of her ability to open portals. Or maybe it would have just hurt her less. Who knows. Either way, nice going Mike.

The battle of Starcourt. Finally, his last tingle of the season happens right before the monsters crashes through the mall ceiling, but immediately after Mike goes to check on El. Earlier in the episode, the og party shares a group hug as they’re now all reunited. Will places his hand on the small of Mike’s back. Mike doesn’t seem to mind. They were already standing very close together. I think this moment, for Will, feels like the repair of a breach. For a moment, they’re the old party again. And Mike is the heart of that party for Will, the thing which keeps them together, but also the thing that’s been letting them fall apart lately. Interesting that once Mike walks away from the party and toward El, Will feels the tingle. Mike is very preoccupied with El during most of the battle. Understandably. He knows the monster is there for her, not for Will (for once). But when the dust settles and El is holding Max to comfort her after Billy’s death, you’d think Mike would be trying to comfort El, who is also clearly distraught. But instead, once the danger is neutralized, we see Mike looking not at El, but up at the balcony where Will is, presumably making sure he’s okay.

We see Will’s neck tingle one more time in the S4 finale, with Will now back in range of One’s psychic influence. Will tells Mike that he’s been able to feel One since getting back to Hawkins earlier that day, but we don’t see him get the tingles. Now, nothing happens to Will in S4 that isn’t directly related to Mike. They obviously share some deeply painful moments and some beautiful, healing moments. At the start the rift between them is bigger than we’ve ever seen it, and both boys seem to think it’s the other one who is pulling away. In reality they’re both pulling away because they’re afraid of their feelings for each other. They don’t want to get to close because they might get hurt. But well before the end we see them once again standing shoulder to shoulder every chance they get, being vulnerable with each other and leaning on each other emotionally. Despite El being objectively in more danger than Will is, Mike’s attention seems to be mostly on Will. Even after reunited with El, Mike chooses to stand nearer to Will, more often than not. We’re well on our way to getting S2 Byler back. So, after such an intense season-long emotional roller coaster with Mike, Will starts to feel One again, and apparently feels him most intensely when the spores begin pouring out of the upside down into Hawkins. Again, we’re led to believe there is a one-to-one correlation here. The rift starts belching out spores, Will feels the tingle. But what’s going on right in front of Will when he gets the tingles? We only see the back of his head so we can’t confirm what he was looking at, but we can see Jonathan and the direction of his gaze: Mike, hugging Hopper. I’m certain this is what Will was starting at the moment he gets the final tingle of the show so far. The shot even transitions from Mike’s face, looking very contented resting on Hopper’s shoulder, to the back of Will’s head, connecting those two moments in the audience’s mind.

Now, Mike sees Hopper as a father figure by merit of his relationship with El, and due to the fact that Hopper has many times been Mike’s (and Will’s) literal defender from mortal danger. He has been under the belief that Hopper has been dead for 9 months. Of course Mike is going to hug him after finding out he’s alive. But it’s interesting that this season is bookended with Mike hugging people - Dustin at the end of episode 1, after they win their DnD campaign, and now Hopper at the end of episode 9. Between these first and last hugs are two hugs with El (the first of which Mike actively breaks in order to… protect the flowers he picked for her?), one with his mother, and one almost-hug with Will. Mike hugs Hopper for roughly that 15-20 seconds. That’s a long time to hug someone. Don’t believe me? Go try it.

So, Will sees this and must be thinking “what the hell?” right? After Mike flatly refuses to hug Will at the airport Will probably went on a whole ass emotional odyssey trying to figure out why Mike was behaving so strangely toward him. Last time they saw each other they hugged (and a very intimate, not-so-platonic-looking hug at that) and now that half a year has gone by without seeing each other, Mike doesn’t hug him? Maybe Mike has changed. Maybe he doesn’t feel comfortable with hugs anymore. Maybe it’s another thing he’s “outgrown.” That’s fairly typical of teenage boys, right? But here Will sees just how comfortable Mike actually is with physical affection… just not with him. I can only imagine seeing that must have felt like reliving the moment in the airport all over again - what’s wrong with me? Why won’t he hug me? Etc. and then - boom, neck tingles. Jonathan sees all of this too - he gave Mike dagger eyes after rejecting Will’s hug at the airport, and here we see him again looking at Mike with a rather disapproving expression. He is also wondering wtf is wrong with Mike. Obviously, Byler shippers know the answer. He’s afraid to hug Will at the beginning of S4 because he’s resisting his feelings for him. But Will doesn’t know that. Jonathan may be on his way to figuring it out, but still resents Mike for sending so many confusing signals to Will. Anyway all of this leads to the final shot of the season where Mike chooses to stand next to Will rather than follow El into the field, and we see the end game couples paired up behind her on the hill.

So, what is the point of all this? Correlation does not prove causation. And I’m not arguing that Will gets his neck tingles *because* of Mike. Clearly the tingles demonstrate a connection between Will and One. But I do think it’s interesting that it only ever happens when Mike is around, and almost always after an emotionally charged moment with him. This could mean two things. First, that One senses when Will is having feelings regarding Mike and chooses those moments to reach out and make contact; and/or the show runners want us to subconsciously connect Will’s extra sensory perception with his relationship with Mike. Why would they want us connecting Will’s relationship with Mike to his extra sensory connection to One? Perhaps because it will ultimately be Mike’s love that breaks One’s connection with Will.

Well, that’s it. That’s my theory. Sorry for the weird spacing. I copied and pasted this from my notes on my phone. If you made it through this long rambling post, thank you and I’m sorry lol.

[writersmacchiato]

come around | edmund pevensie x reader

pairing: edmund pevensie x reader

summary: edmund frequents a bookstore and meets a particular customer.

. . .

edmund didn't know when he became aware of your presence.

the moment was unexpected and happened in such a whirl, he felt dazed. the memory hazy and floating away. but it was such a bizarre event that he knew his own imagination could not have made it up.

it was a slow afternoon, clouds lazily drifted over the sun. there was hardly a breeze in the air.

the bookstore was void of any other patron, only him and the owner. it wasn't normally busy but it was quiet even for the shop.

there was a chime over the door and it let out a sweet ring as it opened and you walked in.

you smiled at the owner, an older gentleman named henry, and began small talk about the weather and then his family. you spoke with ease, as if you'd spoken to him a million times. and judging from henry's smile, you probably had.

after a beat of silence, you moved into the aisles of books with familiarity. and edmund can't help but wonder why he had never seen you before. it was clear you came here regularly, probably more than him.

"hi, i'm y/n."

edmund was taken off guard to see you appear so quickly beside him, quietly moving through the room.

"i'm edmund."

he was surprised that you seemed to be looking intently at the section he was in. mysteries didn't seem to be your type.

"my friend recommend that i try a new genre because i'm bored with the one i normally read but they all look the same to me, if i'm being honest." you said, fingers tracing a book's spine before drifting back to your side.

"you should give Henry Heard a try. i've enjoyed his books. start with 'a taste for honey'." edmund finds the yellow book with a skull and a bee on the cover.

you take it from him, reading the first page quickly, before turning the page again.

"i'm already intrigued!" you smile at edmund, looking into his eyes. "i'll check this out, thank you edmund."

"it's no problem."

"i'll see you around."

with a little wave, you're off. checking out the book and bidding henry goodbye.

edmund can't help but hope that he'd see you around soon.

. . .

it had been a week since edmund last saw you. he had been back to the bookstore only once before today, but there was no sign of you.

he told himself it was only coincidence that he happened to be back on the same day around the same time as the last time. but he knew that it was intentional.

henry was behind the counter, a newspaper spread out. he nodded at edmund when he came in, the chime ringing as it always did. there appeared to be no one else inside, yet again.

he allowed himself to wander over to the mystery section, seeing the section for H.F. Heard and the spot where the yellow book had once been. it was part of a series, though it didn't truly matter what order they were read in.

"you beat me to it."

his heart skips a beat.

"i was hoping there would be another book because i loved the one you recommended. thank you, by the way." you said, looking completely nonplussed while he tries to steady his heartbeat.

"i'm glad you liked it." edmund paused. "it is a bit nerve-racking to recommend a book to someone. particularly to strangers."

"well, we're not strangers, are we edmund?" you grinned. "in fact, you passed the test. i enjoyed a book you recommended, thus i can trust you have good opinion."

"passed the test?" edmund was floored.

"well, not really. i might have picked the book out on my own but you happened to be here on a day that i don't normally visit and set into the motion my discovery of Henry Heard. so, naturally i have to believe that we met for a reason."

"that does seem coincidental." edmund said.

"i don't believe in coincidences. we met for a reason and i do believe that." you said impassioned.

"so, edmund, stranger from the bookstore, will you accompany me to the cafe on the corner for a cup of tea and we can acquaint ourselves?"

"yes, y/n, i would be delighted."

. . .

[lookbluesoup]

Writing US Military Characters

This is a non-exhaustive list of some common ‘quirks’ or habits that can give away a character’s military experience. Wrote it up for myself and it’s particularly useful when I want to show instead of tell. These are based on first person accounts from several vets! Thought others might like to use it too for a reference :D Ones with * or ** came up particularly often.

Like any guide, it’s just that - a guide, not a set of rules! A character is unlikely to do all of these, and other factors like ADHD, trauma, or just personality might effect what sticks. People are endlessly diverse! 

Eat, Drink, Dress, and Rest

* High tolerance for physical discomfort

** Eat very fast, and aren’t picky about the taste

** Can sleep anywhere - on a helicopter, in enemy territory, up high, underground, when it’s loud, when it’s quiet

* Can operate effectively without sleep for over 24hrs, or with erratic and limited sleep for days

** Wake up early, 0500-0700; Wake up quickly and ready for action

* Hair cut regularly. Beards stay clean shaven (alternatively some may avoid shaving when out of uniform)

** Dress practically and neatly, jackets buttoned/zipped up, ironed, polished

Take hat off indoors 

Organization and Talents

Gearhead

Gun nut

Detail oriented

** Pockets are meticulous. The same thing always goes into the same pocket, for easy reach. Pockets never full to bulging. Carry multitool.

** Hands stay out of pockets - ready. (Hands in pockets is forbidden in the military. Some Special Forces may keep their hands in pockets, as their ‘grooming’ rules are less enforced. Because they can)

Always carry things with left hand (and ”southpaws” must learn to use standard right-handed weapons)

** Know how to clean house and keep it organized (may choose not to out of uniform)

** Can make bed and shower fast

Organize clothes to be able to dress and maneuver their own space in pitch black (Navy specifically)

Know how to sew basic repairs (i.e. a button)

Layout items before packing. Tight roll clothes. Pack efficiently

** Can read maps effectively, may prefer them to a GPS, use landmarks

Deadlines not always considered concrete (There is a military mantra, “Hurry up and wait.” Often one would be told to complete something or arrive somewhere at a certain time, but nothing would happen due to someone else’s task meant to be finished earlier still being incomplete)

** Alternatively (or in tandem), arrive 5-30 minutes early to every event

Things kept packed securely in the car, “ready for sea” and “heavy rolls” (Navy specifically)

Routines and Social

** Respect for the “Other” or “Them” - other religions, cultures, races, and ethnicities - had to work crammed together with a diverse group that may have strongly opposing viewpoints, and learn to trust each other to have their backs in dangerous situations (For many, military is their first real experience with different cultures and beliefs)

* Respect ≠ Like. Will go above and beyond for a respected leader, even if they are disliked

Deeply suspicious of red tape, bureaucracy, and bosses on power trips, and will only do the minimum required for these

** Low tolerance for slacking/job skirting

* Volunteer other people for tasks, and willing to be volunteered for things

Don’t ask people to do things they aren’t willing to do themselves

Still follow orders of bosses they dislike. Still have the backs of coworkers they dislike

** Like clear orders, responsibilities, chain of command, and penalties

* Have Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C

Actions matter more than ceremony; definite respect for processions, but excessive reverence for the flag/anthem/etc viewed as posturing rather than true patriotism

High tolerance for boredom

** Adaptable, high stress tolerance, work efficiently, self reliant

** Avoid having their back to an opening (windows/doors/etc) or sitting anywhere someone can sneak up on them from

* Avoid loud, crowded areas, check perimeters, barricade doors, sleep last in a group (may coincide with PTSD)

Always walk on the right side of a road/grocery aisle/etc

Stand at parade rest, walk cadence, walk fast

* Walk quietly, even in boots, sneak quickly (military crouch run)

De-escalation in violence - in protective armed situations the standard is: 1) multiple warnings, 2) warning shots, 3) shoot to incapacitate. Shoot to kill is a last resort. (not following these steps could get an ally or potential ally killed) In verbal disagreement, resolve an issue before it escalates

* Wariness toward and tendency to feel Other’ed by civilians

* Immediate acceptance toward other military, expectation of shared values

Vernacular

Observe before speaking in a situation, only speak if it seems significantly important to

Refer to people as “Sir” or “Ma’am”

Giving out nicknames

** Speak directly, make direct eye contact (sometimes comes off as rude, often intimidates)

* Don’t take criticism or disagreement personally, expect others not to, either, and will point out flaws even to superiors (but again, orders are respected)

** Clear communication, acknowledge messages by replying, even if that’s just a thumbs up or down

** Swearing. Lots of swearing. Every other word is swearing

** Dark sense of humor, and racist/sexist jokes - not indicative of individual’s actual belief system or violent tendencies

Unbothered by angry yelling, angry quiet people are more concerning

** Point with ‘knife hands’, not just a single finger

** Use a 24 hour clock instead of a 12 am/pm; i.e. 0800 hours, not 8am (Called ”Military Time” in the US) 

Describe locations by o’clock directions, i.e. dog standing at 6 o’clock

* Write out dates as day-month-year (US usually does month-day-year) i.e. 21Oct57

** Use phonetic alphabet to spell things out, or at least have it memorized

** Habitually use military terms or sayings, including:

Good to go - Mission ready, ready to proceed

Squared away - Compliment indicating exemplary service

Popping a smoke - Need to get out of here [From using smoke grenades to call helicopters for extraction]

“Sir yes sir” [A ‘sir sandwich’] 

FUBAR - F*cked up beyond all recognition

SNAFU -  Situation normal, all f*cked up

TARFU -  Things are really f*cked up

BOLO - Be on the lookout

ATL - Attempt to locate

IAW - In accordance with

Civilian - Non-military person

Roger - Message received and understood

“Say again your last.” - What?

Firearm- Gun

Ruck - backpack

March - walk

Double time - running

PT - working out

Rally point - meetup

Field day - Spring Cleaning (Navy specifically)

Get smoked - Laps, pushups, etc as punishment

[nevertheless-moving]

Lost Luke Part Three

Star Wars Time Travel AU #19  (Wholesome Luke Time Travel AU) Part One . . . Part Two

One of the best things to imagine in this au is how the Skywalkers interact with Obi-Wan Kenobi because this is just before/interrupts the incidents that profoundly broke their faith in him but after he earned their unshakeable devotion (that is, to say, after he met them).

Anakin: “So you lived with your Aunt and Uncle but Obi-Wan was the one who actually raised you, right?” Luke, who has barely ever had a conversation with Old Ben: “No, I mean he seemed cool obviously but no. I mean he was around sometimes I guess...” Anakin, nodding knowingly: “Yeah, he totally raised you. He’s stealthy about that sort of thing.” Luke: ...?

Later on, as Luke is learning about the force and stuff, he starts to get a little bit more of a sense of how Ben had in fact been a feature in his life 

(he’s been hired on as civilian mechanic with the 501st. Obviously this should be banned because a) that’s not a thing and b) attachment, but consider: He’s genuinely talented at everything, the Council reluctantly kind-of liked this one, Anakin pulled the slave card right when the council was at peak-slave guilt, Obi-Wan was quietly sure if they said no Anakin would quit, and also when Palpatine first heard about twin brother he went, ‘oh, worm?’ (The whole Luke vs Palpatine is a separate thing))

Pretty much everything he figures out about Ben on Tatooine is just- really sad. Like, he knew the Jedi were gone and Ben was upset about it but the Jedi are clearly Obi-Wan’s entirely family and culture oh my gods he really didn’t have anything did he.

And Luke doesn’t quite share Anakin’s conviction that Obi-Wan was on Tatooine just for him- it is in Hutt space, not a bad spot for avoiding imps. Luke was maybe a coincidence, or a bonus. Why else would he wait so long to actually introduce himself? It’s uncomfortable either way to think about this incredible Jedi Master and General fallen so low, an outcast and a drunk. But living on Tatooine for the sole purpose of being the same vague proximity as his dead friend’s son would be...yikes, pretty tragic.

The more he meditates and learns, the more he feels that something about Obi-Wan’s force-signature is familiar, but he can’t quite make it match up with his hazier pre-training memories. 

It’s not until Obi-Wan is truly miserable- maybe a trooper Obi-Wan tried desperately to save dies in his arms- that Luke goes oh. Because the ozone-heavy-petrichor-aura of Obi-Wan’s grief is a lot more familiar. 

The impression of Obi-Wan’s quiet sadness clung to the incredible hand carved ships Luke found on Shmi’s grave as a child, and ok that explains where those came from. 

A few nights when he was young he tasted the scent on the wind, always when there rumors about Sand People Raids, and that also explained how their homestead sometimes seemed mysteriously protected, even if Owen’s irritation and anger about the fact still didn’t make sense.

One time while racing alone in begger’s canyon he had panicked at the rumble of a Krayt dragon beneath his speeder, only to nearly crash in relief when a mating call from over the ridge redirected it. He had even tried to describe the petrichor smell to his friends but everyone in town acted like he made the whole thing up, because Old Ben had even been seen leaving town around the same time and he didn’t look eaten either.

The time he most vividly remembers the force-impression was just a couple years ago, when he and Biggs were in trouble with some of Jabba goons over a complete misunderstanding- long story. Luke admitted that he might have been a little drunk- again, a total misunderstanding. He and Biggs were hiding under a filthy cantina table when they heard shouting just outside, one of the voices recognizable as a particularly sadistic enforcer. Someone entered the bar and approached the bartender to ask a question; the two tensed up in fear. Footsteps drew closer to their not-very-good hiding spot and a man sat down, inadvertently kicking Luke in the face.

Old Ben peered beneath the table, looking extremely surprised, “Luke? What in the core are you doing under there?”

Biggs shushed the drunk Hermit, desperately whispering, “Please Mr. Kenobi, Jabba’s goons are after this, you can’t let them know we’re under here.”

“Jabba’s goons?” Ben asked, sounding bewildered, “You mean those ruffians who were standing outside?”

Luke and Biggs nodded frantically. 

“Oh, they left, you don’t have to worry about them.” Ben took a sip of his drink, leaning back with a smile. 

The two boys exchanged a look, “Are you- are you sure? They seemed pretty mad.” Luke asked tentatively.

“Oh, yes. Apparently there was a break-in at one of Jabba’s warehouses and he’s extremely displeased at all of his servants for their failure to prevent it. I imagine whatever small quarrel they had with you will be totally forgotten in the fallout.”

The pair dragged themselves up to the bench across from Kenobi, slouching over in relief. 

“Oh my gods- thank the Krayt! Let’s get out of here, Luke. See, I told you things would blow over.” 

Luke punched Biggs in the shoulder, “Yeah, right. We got lucky, bantha brains.” Luke cleared his throat and addressed Old Ben directly, “Thank you- I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t shown up.” 

At the time he had ignored the hair raising on the back of his neck, the surge of foreign mixed emotions, and the strangely familiar smell-that-wasn’t-a-smell he could never quite identify. 

At 17, he was somewhat used to what his Uncle called his ‘damn bleeding heart’ and what Bigs called ‘being weird about other people.' He figured it was kind-of like how deep spacers got twitchy about crowds after spending months with just himself- he spent so much time on the farm that sometimes just being around other people was overwhelming. Plus he was a little drunk at the moment.

Ben cleared his throat, “Oh no, no need to thank me, I’m sure I had nothing to do with it.” 

Biggs rolled his eyes. “...Right. Well, anyway, thanks for letting us know. Come on Luke, let’s beat it!” And they scurried out, not looking back. 

-

Luke hesitantly tells Anakin about the almost-familiar force presence that clung to these memories and Anakin gets frustrated and sad and happy and confused because force why did Obi-Wan have to be so weird about feelings? He appreciates that he was obviously silently protecting his son for 19 years but he seriously couldn’t have talked to him? Luke quietly grieves a man he never really had the chance to know and who he’ll never fully understand while firmly attaching himself to the current Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan: Fucks sake, now they’re both clingy, what did I do to deserve this?

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 3: Eternal Memories

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Riku Nanase: Ah, I was planning to use this picture, too! Here, look.

Tenn Kujo: Good thing we set up this meeting, then.

Iori Izumi: It's all thanks to my guidance. The two of you should be grateful.

Tenn & Riku: Thank you.

Iori Izumi: Still, I can't believe you'd both choose the exact same photo, out of all the ones you have.

Iori Izumi: Was it just a coincidence? Or do you have some kind of twin superpowers?

Tenn Kujo: I wouldn't exactly call it a superpower, but we have always had a tendency to pick the same things.

Riku Nanase: Yeah! Like at a restaurant, we'd always order the same thing.

Iori Izumi: Perhaps it's not as unusual for you to have matching tastes and interests as I made it out to be, considering you were raised together.

Tenn & Riku: Right.

Iori Izumi: Which park is this? Do you remember where it is?

Tenn Kujo: Near our old house. We went there for a picnic, since Riku was feeling well that day.

Riku Nanase: We brought canteens and lunchboxes. It wasn't our first visit to that park, but eating lunch there made it feel like an adventure.

Tenn Kujo: You have a nice smile in this picture, Riku. Why don't you use this one? I can pick something else.

Riku Nanase: Are you sure? I think you look really cute here too, Tenn-nii. You've got this kind of composed look on your face.

Riku Nanase: I think your fans would be happy to see you like this.

Tenn Kujo: And your fans would like to see the way you look here, too. Hmm, this is a tough decision.

Tenn Kujo: Your thoughts, Iori Izumi?

Iori Izumi: You're asking me?

Tenn Kujo: I thought I'd leave this up to outside judgement.

Riku Nanase: Which one of us do you think should use this picture for the show?

Iori Izumi: ......... Nanase-san.

Riku Nanase: Oh! How come?

Iori Izumi: Because we might not have the time to reach out to Kujo-san a second time if you're the one who needs to reselect his picture.

Iori Izumi: I trust in his ability to choose an appropriate photo much more than I trust yours.

Tenn Kujo: Makes sense.

Riku Nanase: So it has nothing to do with the photo itself?

Iori Izumi: Although if you select something from the pictures we looked at last night, perhaps Kujo-san could also use this one.

Iori Izumi: Why not the one you showed me, where your face is covered in ketchup...

Riku Nanase: The one where I'm eating omurice?

Iori Izumi: Yes. You looked so innocent and cu... Ahem. I just thought it would make for a good conversation piece.

Riku Nanase: I guess I'll go with that one, then!

Tenn Kujo: What about your picture, Iori Izumi? Which one did you pick?

Iori Izumi: ........ Mine is... nothing unusual... Just a perfectly normal childhood picture...

Tenn Kujo: Based on your reluctance to go into any more detail, I highly doubt that.

Riku Nanase: We can show you! Apparently Mitsuki chose the picture, and Iori looks totally adorable in it!

Iori Izumi: ........ It... It really isn't anything worth showing to people...

Tenn Kujo: It's not worth showing to people, so you decided to display it on national television?

Riku Nanase: C'mon, Iori. Even Tenn-nii wants to see it!

Tenn Kujo: Pretty please.

Iori Izumi: Please stop it with the innocent act...

Iori Izumi: ...Fine. Here it is, since you insist...

Tenn Kujo: Wow, you look cute. A plushie in your arms, a happy little smile on your face...

Riku Nanase: Isn't it precious!?

Iori Izumi: That's enough. I don't need your flattery...

Riku Nanase: We're not just saying that, you know! I even wanted to pretend like I was the one that gave you that plushie.

Iori Izumi: I don't know why you feel this much of a need to usurp your twin.

Riku Nanase: I mean it! There's not a single person who wouldn't be happy if their present was received like how you received that plushie.

Riku Nanase: God, Santa Claus, whoever. I think it'd make just about anyone feel on top of the world.

Iori Izumi: You're the one who's always smiling like that, anyway.

Riku Nanase: Huh?

Iori Izumi: Nothing. I was just thinking out loud.

Iori Izumi: Still, not even I expected my younger self to smile so earnestly.

Tenn Kujo: What made you look so sour all the time?

Iori Izumi: I don't look like this all the time. Just very often, especially around your younger brother.

Tenn Kujo: I don't know. You seem to give me plenty of sour looks, too.

Iori Izumi: Only when the cameras are off and you're acting like your usual, standoffish self.

Tenn Kujo: I'm not standoffish. I just take things seriously.

Tenn Kujo: So, how old were you exactly? When you stopped sleeping with this cutesy teddy bear, I mean.

Iori Izumi: ...How do you know I used to sleep with it!? Did my brother tell you?

Tenn Kujo: Most little kids like to sleep with a stuffed toy or two. Especially one that looks this fluffy.

Iori Izumi: I did enjoy that, myself...

Tenn Kujo: Riku never could've done that, though. His selection of bedtime toys was limited, so he didn't have attacks at night.

Riku Nanase: True.

Iori Izumi: Ah... I see... And you even seem like you'd have enjoyed these kind of fluffy toys...

Riku Nanase: Are you sure you're not just talking about yourself..?

Tenn Kujo: Riku. Were you lonely without plushies to keep you company?

Riku Nanase: Of course not. I had you, Tenn-nii.

Riku Nanase: I never felt lonely, even though I never got to go to school, or pet any cats or dogs.

Riku Nanase: When you were around, I was always happy and having fun. And I'm really grateful for that.

Tenn Kujo: Riku...

Riku & Iori: Tenn-nii...

Tenn & Riku: ........!?

Riku Nanase: W-what was that!? Why did you call him Tenn-nii, too!?

Iori Izumi: Because I knew that's what you were going to say. What do you think of my ability to predict you?

Tenn Kujo: You can be very strange, for someone so smart.

Iori Izumi: I could say the same about you. Don't you think you're being unusually soft on Nanase-san today?

Tenn Kujo: I guess so... I guess nostalgia's gotten the best of me.

Tenn Kujo: That'll happen when you reminisce about your childhood.

Riku Nanase: Maybe... I should just stick one of our childhood pictures on my face all the time...

Iori Izumi: You're an idol, so please don't start trying to censor your own face.

Riku Nanase: But I want Tenn-nii to be nice to me!

Iori Izumi: Of course yo do... Ah, by the way. Are you sure that picture you showed me at the dorm wouldn't be the best pick for you?

Iori Izumi: You know, the one where you're holding a Rabitty-kun doll. I think it'd work nicely, especially from a sponsor standpoint.

Riku Nanase: Yeah, maybe!

Tenn Kujo: I'm glad Rabitty-kun made a comeback. Toi Toi Toi was on the verge of bankruptcy before then.

Riku Nanase: They were?

Tenn Kujo: Yep. They released some low quality Rabitty-kun products, and were dealing with tons of customer complaints.

Tenn Kujo: It was damaging enough to their reputation that they had to sell the main office building and the CEO's house.

Iori Izumi: I see... I think the Rabitty-kun we had might've been one of the defective ones.

Iori Izumi: It made strange noises sometimes...

Riku Nanase: Yeah, I can kind of see why people would complain about their children's toys making creepy noises. They probably made lots of kids cry.

Iori Izumi: Still, it's incredible that they were able to bounce back and resume sales six years ago.

Riku Nanase: Wow... That company's sure had some big ups and downs.

Riku Nanase: Kind of like us!

Iori Izumi: Right... I do hope we can help them have a good anniversary.

Tenn Kujo: Yeah.

Iori Izumi: What sort of games did you two play when you were little?

Tenn Kujo: We played normally enough. Drawing, card games, things like that.

Riku Nanase: I couldn't get out of bed or move around much, so Tenn-nii would sing and dance for me.

Riku Nanase: We came up with lots of games where I sat still, while he moved around.

Riku Nanase: Like the Tenn-nii Robot!

Iori Izumi: The "Tenn-nii Robot"?

Tenn Kujo: Ah, I remember that one.

Iori Izumi: What kind of game was it?

Riku Nanase: I used this controller we made out of milk cartons to order Tenn-nii around.

Riku Nanase: And he'd do as I told him to. It was a lot of fun!

Tenn Kujo: Sure was.

Riku Nanase: Tenn-nii Robot, fire missiles!

Tenn Kujo: Boom!

Riku Nanase: Tenn-nii Robot, fire your machine gun!

Tenn Kujo: Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

Riku Nanase: Tenn-nii Robot, equip your lazer sword!

Tenn Kujo: Kwishuuuu, clink!

Tenn & Riku: It was so much fun!

Iori Izumi: Kujo-san...

Tenn Kujo: What?

Iori Izumi: You taught an innocent young child the joys of having Tenn Kujo at his beck and call? That should be a criminal offense.

Tenn Kujo: What are you talking about..?

Iori Izumi: You're exactly the reason why Nanase-san grew up to be so inhumanly naive and spoiled.

Tenn Kujo: Are you spoiled, Riku?

Riku Nanase: No! Hey, Iori..! Since when am I spoiled!?

Iori Izumi: Do you really have to ask? Today, you slept in so late that I had to help you pack.

Riku Nanase: How is that spoiled!? I just asked you for help! And you agreed to help me with my clothes, too!

Iori Izumi: I was worried we'd be even more late if I let you try and fail to decide on what to wear. You have no right to complain here.

Riku Nanase: I guess not, but...

Tenn Kujo: So, Iori Izumi's your stylist for today.

Riku Nanase: Do I look good?

Tenn Kujo: Sure.

Riku Nanase: Ehehe! You hear that, Iori!?

Iori Izumi: Of course you look good, with a producer like me. You should have more self-confidence.

Tenn Kujo: You two sure are close.

Riku Nanase: Yeah, we are!

Iori Izumi: How, exactly?

Riku Nanase: There you go again. Tenn-nii Robot, attack Iori!

Tenn Kujo: Kwishuuuu, clink...  

Iori Izumi: Urgh..! ...Please, do NOT try to stab me!

Tenn Kujo: Beep beep beep. Mission complete.

Iori Izumi: You of all people should know better than to indulge him!

Riku Nanase: Ahahaha! 

To be continued...

[bumblesimagines]

Forgotten Fairytale

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

I'm not afraid of this series not becoming as well loved as Green Thumb and I don't expect it to be popular. I've had the idea stuck in my head for a while and I'm getting it all out.

~

You looked over the artifacts the school had stored. You gave a small scoff, shaking your head as you noticed things that didn’t belong in a school.

“They call us thieves and hoarders yet half this shit was stolen off a corpse.” You muttered, stopping in front of a glass case protecting a sword.

“I wouldn’t suggest stealing that. It’ll be obvious.” You turned towards the redhead, sighing and tilting your head as she walked towards you.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” You looked back at the sword, eyes raking over it. 

“You know what this is?” You asked. Hope stood beside you, looking down at the sword. She shook her head, pursing her lips slightly.

“A man named Lord Jameson Wraith owned this sword. He was… a hunter of sorts and specialized in killing dragons. When he stabbed this through the chest of a dragon, the sword would light up and the dragon would burn from the inside. A gruesome, slow death. We were hunted like all others but it wasn’t just to protect humans. We were hunted for our meat, our teeth, and our scales. Humans declared war on us and when we fought back, we were erased from everyone's minds and deemed fairy tales where we continue to be killed by a so-called knight.” You explained, running your finger over the glass. 

“Some dragons were able to survive Malivore but as soon as they shifted… They were taken. They disappeared and left no trace.” You turned to look at Hope. The redhead stayed silent, a frown etched on her face.

“I’m sorry you lost your father. We’re working on finding Malivore and when we do, there’s a chance you’ll be able to see your father again.” Hope said softly, gaze still trained on the sword. 

“Where’s your mother? Alaric mentioned she was a vampire.”

“I was never able to meet her but.. I believe she’s dead.” You walked around the case, looking back up at Hope. You locked eyes with her, hearing her clear her throat.

“I’m sure she would’ve wanted to be in your life.” Hope offered a small smile, nails gently tapping against the case. 

“Are you being nice to me cause you need to find out more about me?” You asked, head tilting. Hope cocked a brow, eyes rolling as she turned away from you.

“Alaric really doesn’t trust me, does he?”

“He trusts you more than I do, that’s for sure. It’s just too much of a coincidence for you, a dragon, to show up when we’re dealing with monster after monster. If it weren’t for Alaric, I would’ve already done a spell on you.” Hope said as she walked around the room, features hard and serious. 

“A little witch spell wouldn’t work on me. You haven’t been trained to deal with dragons. If I was really one of those monsters, why didn’t I burn the building down and search for whatever it is that you have?” You asked curiously. Hope didn’t answer, thinking for a moment.

“Because you’d need to know if it was hidden.”

“Alaric asked if I felt a pull to this place. I suppose that means I would feel a pull towards the artifact, right?” You slowly walked towards her, a soft chuckle leaving you.

“You can kick and scream all you want, Red. I’m here to stay, whether you like it or not.” You reached out, twirling a strand of her red hair around your finger. Hope grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away.

“You’re up to something and I’m gonna figure out what it is.” Hope sneered, eyes narrowed. She turned around, walking towards the doors. She almost bumped into a man on her way out, quietly apologizing before moving past him. The man entered the room, clasping his hands together. 

“I’m Dorian Williams, the liberian and occasional substitute teacher.” Dorian introduced himself, finding a table and taking a seat. He motioned for you to sit across from him. You did so, taking a seat and crossing your arms as you eyed him.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, (Y/N). I do have some suspicions that you might be after the artifact but.. You’re a kid. A kid who lost their father and wants answers. I’m not here to interrogate you about your intentions.” Dorian explained, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. 

“Do the other students know what I am?” 

“News spread like wildfire here, especially amongst the students so.. Yes, most likely. I can assure you that you’ll be treated like any other student-”

“So, Hope goes around telling every student she’s gonna figure out what they’re up to? No wonder she’s not popular.” Dorian let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“I promise Hope isn’t always like that. The monster problem we’ve been having has everyone on edge. Do.. Do you know anything about Malivore?” Dorian asked, sitting up and leaning forward. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna interrogate me.” You tilted your head, brow cocked. Dorian hummed softly, nodding. 

“Alright, we can talk about something else. The neck is a dragon's soft spot, right?”

“Depends.” You answered, licking your lips as you reached up to touch your necklace. 

“If a dragon is older and stronger, a hit to the neck isn’t gonna hurt them much. It might piss them off and they could lose their ability to speak or even stop them from breathing fire cause it’ll hurt to do so. We can still kill someone by stepping on them or snacking on them. We were on the top of the fucking food chain and humans just couldn’t deal with that.” 

“I’m not your enemy, (Y/N). I want to believe I can trust you. You’re a child and like all children, you need guidance. I see a lot of rage built up inside you. I can tell from the way you interacted with Hope and from what I heard. Landon and Rafael aren’t your enemies. They’re new and they have a rough past. The first dragon they met wanted to burn them into a pile of ashes so.. I’d say they’re being pretty welcoming.” Dorian held a soft yet stern gaze. It was obvious that he sympathized with you but at the same time, he wasn’t gonna deal with an attitude.

“Tell me about your father. What was he like?” Dorian asked softly. Your gaze dropped to the table, fingers squeezing around the key. 

“I’d appreciate it if everyone could stop talking about him as if he’s dead.” You breathed out, standing up abruptly as your eyes began to sting from tears.

“I don’t need to be welcomed into this school. I’ve been to high school before, I’m not some little kid whose hand needs to be held.” You walked out of the room, heading back to your dorm room. You entered the dorm, shutting the door behind you. You sniffled softly, walking towards the window and opening it. You stepped out, taking a seat on the roof. You brought your knees up to your chest, feeling the wind gently hitting your face. 

“The key to food is passion, remember that (Y/N).”

“I thought it was seasoning.” You grinned as you watched your father cook. He hummed, nodding with a chuckle.

“It is but food from a chef who feels no passion for it will taste bland and bitter. It’s the same with any other job. If you hate it, it’ll show and you’ll only hurt yourself. That’s why I always tell you to look for things you’re interested in.” (F/N) said, handing you a wooden spoon so you could help with stirring the soup.

“What was mom passionate about?”

“Your mother was.. She was a hurricane.” He began, sighing deeply. “She destroyed everything in her path and took down anyone in her way. Not many people have fond memories of her but I saw the good in her. I didn’t love her romantically but I considered her a good friend of mine. I’ll always be grateful to her for giving me the best gift a man could ever have.” You smiled widely, chuckling softly and rolling your eyes. (F/N) smiled softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“No treasure could ever compare to you.” 

You bit your bottom lip, letting out a shaky sigh. You weren't used to being alone. Your father had always been there to back you up, to support you, and to provide comfort when you needed it.

“Christ, pull yourself together. You come from dragons and a psycho vampire.” You mumbled, carefully going back inside. You picked up the phone, turning it on and waiting for it to power on completely. You responded to a text, watching a call pop up. You clicked the green button and held the phone up to your ear.

“I thought you said it was stupid to be in contact.” You took a seat on the bed.

“Yeah, well, I was expecting you to be back by now. You do know your fathers return lies in your hands, right? Only I can help you get him back but I’ll only do that if you give me what I need.”

“I have a plan-”

“Speed up that plan before I change my mind, (Y/N). While you were on your way to the school, I bumped into some of your new friends. They were a redhead and an older man. I believe the girl went by the name Jessica but I doubt it was her real name.” You let out a deep sigh, head tilting upwards. Hope Mikaelson was gonna be a real pain in the ass.

“Yeah, I’ve met the redhead.” You breathed out, dropping your head and pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I just need you to relax, Ryan. I’ve got it handled but I really don’t need you fucking things up for me. You just keep up your end of the deal and I’ll keep up mine. You might be able to save my father but I can also keep you from helping yours.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact. Don’t bother me again unless it’s an emergency.” You pulled the phone away from your ear despite Ryan continuing to talk. You hung up and tossed the phone to the side, burying your face in your hands. 

“Am I paying for my mothers crimes?” You whispered. You flinched when you heard two knocks on the door, standing up and approaching it. You opened the door, staring at Josie.

“What do you want, baby face?” You asked with a frown, looking down at the ice cream tub in her hands. Josie’s brows furrowed at the nickname but she ignored it, choosing to raise the tub. 

“I.. I kind of eavesdropped on you and Dorian and saw you rush out. Ice cream always makes me feel better when I’m feeling down, so I brought you some.” Josie shrugged lightly. You blinked, opening your mouth but nothing came out. 

“If you don’t like ice cream then I could see if-”

“Thanks.” You cut her off, watching her relax and give a small smile. Josie nodded, perking up when you stepped aside so she could enter. Josie looked around the room, humming. 

“If you want, we could go shopping for some decorations tomorrow after school.” Josie said, moving one hand under her skirt as she sat down. You nodded, taking a seat beside her and subtly turning the phone off. Josie opened the lid of the tub, handing you a spoon and giving a small shy smile.

“Well, Welcome to Salvatore School. I’m pretty sure dad is still figuring out your class schedule.” 

“Dad?”

“Oh, uhm, the headmaster is my dad.” Josie shrugged, digging her spoon into the ice cream. Your brows raised, a small smile spreading across your face. 

“Really? You look nothing like him.. Which is a big compliment.” You grinned as Josie let out a soft giggle. Things were definitely starting to look up.

[dontshootmespence]

Possessive

Summary: After months of denying his feelings for you, Spencer sees you dancing with another man at a bar. Jealousy takes over and everything bubbles to the surface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Word Count: 1,648

Warnings: Shameless smut, oral and anal sex, anal fingering, use lube folks, jealous Spencer, fuckinggg.

A/N: I have had quite a few requests for more male reader fics with Spencer. This anon asked for one where Spencer and the reader like each other but are just friends because they’ve never wanted to cross that line, but after Spencer sees the reader dancing with another guy at the bar he takes the reader home and shows him who he belongs to. :D

After watching Y/N flirt with nearly every man at the bar, Spencer couldn’t take it anymore. With a determination he should’ve had long ago, he shoved his way through the throngs of people to where Y/N stood with someone else. “Spence, what are you doing here?” He asked, his million-watt smile flashing across his face. 

“Just here to let off some steam after the case,” he replied. A muscle ticked in his jaw and he knew Y/N could see it. They were all profilers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out there were unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface. “You?”

“Same.” He replied. For a moment, Y/N turned his attention to the man standing next to him. “John, this is Spencer. Spencer this is John.”

John leaned casually against the bar, all cool smile and endearing charm as he extended his hand to shake Spencer’s. But instead of taking it, Spencer just returned with his usual awkward wave and a curt ‘nice to meet you.’ “So John,” Spencer started, “How do you and Y/N know each other?”

Leaning over, John grazed his body against Y/N. “Just saw him on the dance floor and had to get to know him, you know?” Spencer understood more than John could ever understand. If it weren’t for those damned social niceties, he would shove himself in between John and Y/N right now. “We’ve been having such a good time I decided to buy him a drink.”

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek to keep his brain in check but it was growing more and more difficult by the second. 

“Were you planning on meeting Y/N here?” John asked. “Or was it just a coincidence?”

Confidence oozed from him in a way it hadn’t in years - maybe ever. “Actually, I was hoping to run into him. Could you excuse us for a second?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Spencer grasped Y/N by the forearm and walked toward the front door. “Spence, what are you doing? John and I were having a good time?”

“Well, I don’t want you to.” Spencer replied quickly. “Not with him.”

Y/N pivoted onto his back leg and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?” The ‘I want to hear you say it’ was implied. They’d been dancing around this for too many years for him not to know what was going on.

Spencer sucked on his bottom lip. “Because you should be having a good time with me. We should be going out. You should be dancing with me. For years, I’ve been too much of a bitch to say anything. I’m sorry it took until now for me to say it, but I want you. With me. Not him.” God, that felt so much better. Even if Y/N were to turn him down right now, there was something about just getting it out there that pulled the weight off his shoulders. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Y/N sought out John’s face at the bar and gave him a cursory wave, the kind that let him know he wasn’t coming back to finish that drink. Like the gentleman he was, Y/N pulled out a 10 dollar bill and waved it in John’s direction, willing to pay for his own drink considering their impromptu date didn’t go anywhere. John, in turn, shook his head and waved Y/N off.

In an instant, Spencer whisked Y/N outside and toward his car. “Let’s get out of here.”

Y/N laughed, the earlier tenseness easing from his voice. “You gonna take me home?”

Spencer smiled for the first time since seeing Y/N and John at the bar. “Finally, so we can do what I’ve been imagining for years.”

“What have you been imagining?” He asked, slipping into the passenger seat of the car.

Spencer clumsily put the key in the ignition, his previous confidence starting to fall away as he stumbled over his words. “Making you - making you mine in every way imaginable.”

Swallowing against his growing need, Y/N bent over and reached into Spencer’s pants, releasing his cock from its confines just as Spencer sped out of the parking lot. “Before that, I need to do what I’ve been thinking about for years.” He spit into his hand and wrapped it around Spencer’s shaft, moving slowly up and down as he licked at the tip and tasted the tang of his pre-come. He moaned when he felt Spencer tense above him. “If you can’t control the car, the safe word is banana,” Y/N laughed.

“Are you really going to make me say banana?” Spencer jerked the wheel left as soon as the light turned green. 

“I’m basically just hoping I can make the calm and collected Dr. Spencer Reid scream banana.”

“You’re mean.”

“You love it.”

“I’m going to get you back for this, you know.” Spencer stated.

Y/N didn’t care. As Spencer’s free hand snaked into Y/N’s hair, he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, rolling his tongue around it and pressing against that sweet spot that he knew from personal experience could drive a man insane. “Fuck, Y/N, that mouth is something else.”

Encouragement was one of the best drugs in the world, Y/N thought to himself as he took more of Spencer’s hardening cock into his mouth. Road head was always made out to be glamorous. It really wasn’t. The angle made things especially difficult. But that wasn’t going to keep him from trying. Hearing Spencer moan was too heady not to deal with a little discomfort.

Reaching into Spencer’s pants, he cupped his balls and massaged them as he bobbed his head up and down, allowing the building saliva to drip down his cock. They were going to need to use someone’s jacket to get up to the apartment if they didn’t want to make it completely obvious that Y/N had just had Spencer’s cock in his mouth. “Fuck, Y/N. I can’t...the car...I-” Spencer eased down on the brake, thankful to whatever deity existed for a red light.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Spencer managed to choke out. Slipping his free hand into Y/N’s hair, Spencer gently pushed down on his head before cursing at the light for turning green. That light always took forever, but not now apparently. As the muscles in his stomach coiled, he saw upcoming traffic and knew he wouldn’t be able to control the car. “Banana,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to combust. and crash if you don’t stop.”

Easing off, Y/N chuckled and wiped the spit from his mouth. “It’s almost worth it, but I need to see what else you have in store, so I’ll give you a break.” On the rest of the way home, Y/N lazily stroked Spencer’s cock, pulling away just as he was about to come. 

Spencer parallel parked with the expertise of a NASCAR driver, desperate to get inside. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. “Let’s go. I’m ready to lose it.”

“What do you want to do to me?” Y/N asked, huffing and puffing with need and slight exhaustion after running up three flights of stairs.

Once inside, Spencer slammed the door shut and pushed Y/N against the wall, his stomach pressing against the cool wood of Spencer’s front door.  “Believe it or not, I’m not so great with the words right now. I’ll show you. The second I saw you with John I realized I couldn’t do this anymore.” 

With hurried hands, Spencer unbuckled Y/N’s belt and pushed his jeans and boxers down around his ankles before reaching into a nearby furniture stand to grab a bottle of lube. “Prepared for this?” Y/N chuckled softly, whimpering when Spencer scratched his nails up Y/N’s ass. 

“I’m always prepared.” Spencer nibbled down Y/N’s neck and shoulder as he squeezed some lube into his hands. He rubbed quick circles around Y/N’s ass before slipping a finger inside and watching as his mouth dropped open. “Been thinking about this for a long time.”

“Me too,” Y/N groaned. “Long enough for me to know I don’t need the foreplay tonight.”

Spencer laughed and pulled Y/N’s head back by his hair. “Do you want my cock?” Y/N nodded. “Say it.”

“I need your cock in my ass, Spence. Fuck me.”

Quickly, Spencer lubed himself up and pressed the head of his cock to Y/N’s ass, pushing slowly as he eased himself passed the tight ring of muscle. Moaning, Y/N pushed back to take him deeper. “Fuck me. Show me how desperate you were when you saw me with John.”

At the mention of the other man’s name, Spencer sunk into Y/N’s ass and grunted. “Fuck.” Spencer reached one hand around the front and grasped Y/N’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. He wanted, needed, to overwhelm him with sensation. He bit down on Y/N’s earlobe and marked his way down, practically branding him with teeth marks.

“Spence, I’m gonna come,” Y/N breathed as he slipped a free hand into Spencer’s hair and pulled. “Come in my ass.”

Without another word, Spencer buried himself in Y/N and let go before feeling Y/N tense in his hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Spence. I never knew you could be so possessive. I think I like it. I know I like it,” he laughed, turning around and pulling Spencer’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Spencer walked Y/N back toward his bedroom and began stroking his cock again. “Believe me, that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the things I’ve imagined doing to you.”

It was going to be a long and delicious night.

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

.

.

.

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails​

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate​

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-

“You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”

No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.

“THANK YOU???”

You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood. 
As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.

“Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter​

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown​

------------------------------- By @buglife​

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg.  “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips​

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie​

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris​

------------------------------- By @payasita​

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

-

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

-

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

-

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Emptiness of the Heart

Summary: During a trip in New Orleans you meet Elijah and you feel like you've finally found the one... unfortunately his attentions put you in dangerous situations so, to keep you safe, he decides to wipe your mind from all the memories you had with him... but will that be enough to erase him from your heart?

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Prompt: "I wanted to be better than this"

Warnings: descriptions of drowning in the first part, little talk about amnesia (?), pretty angsty

Words: 1.3k

A/n: I wasn't really planning on joining @hellotvshowtrash 's #April2021PromptChallenge but then I made this moodboard, inspiration hit me and here we are! Hope you like it!💞✨

Tags: @elijahs-wife @elijahswife @dumble-daddy @imaginearyparties @raemikaelson @thedumpster-fire

Water.

It was everywhere.

You couldn't see. You couldn't scream. You couldn't breathe. All you could feel was its deadly cold embrace pulling you deeper in its darkness. A voice, muffled and far away from there, whispered in your ear.

"I wanted to be better than this, Y/n. For you. For us..."

Your lungs were aching, begging for air, begging for you to open your mouth and inhale. And the more the pain grew, the less you were able to think, to move, to hold your breath...

"I destroyed everything again, like all the things I've ever touched"

As you closed your eyes, your conscience leaving your frozen body, you opened your mouth. The cold water became fire sliding down your throat and filling your lungs.

"Forgive me, my love"

You woke up in a mess of hair and covers sticking to your sweaty skin. Coughing and clutching your drumming heart you breathed deeply, welcoming every ounce of oxygen down your lungs. Even though it wasn't real, a phantom pain lingered in your chest to remind you the nightmare you had just escaped.

And behind the fright, behind the invisible pain searing your lungs, there was that senseless feeling of emptiness, of a missing piece that you never had, of a touch that was never yours. Of someone you had forgotten.

Moving your hair from your face, a warm light caressed your skin and your eye. Turning to your window, you noticed a pink sky through the blinds. With a sigh, you stood from your bed with a rustling sound as all the covers fell on the floor, cold as ice under your bare feet.

"I need a shower..."

—

"You need to sleep more, Y/n"

In the chaotic enviroment of the cafe, you gave a quick glance at your mother. Sat at the opposite side of the table, she was menacingly pointing a teaspoon to your face. "The bags under your eyes are darker than your coffee"

"I do sleep, mom" you sighed, rolling your eyes. "It's not my fault if I can't sleep more than four hours per night" you added, taking a sip of coffee. Its bitter taste, however strong, was still not enough to completely shake you from your sleepiness.

"But you never had problems sleeping!" she exclaimed, adding the fifth sugar cube in her tea. You looked at that wincing.

"I think there's enough sugar in that tea" you commented, moving out of her reach the sugar bowl, but she didn't even seem to notice as she kept talking.

"It all started after that trip to New Orleans..." She looked up from her cup and fixed her eyes in yours, her spoon clinking as it hit the light porcelain. "Are you sure that nothing happened while you were there?"

You wanted to genuinely answer that question, you truly did. However all your memories linked to that trip were terribly blurred, as they belonged to a fever dream. Sometimes glimpses of those days came to your mind: the music of a club, lights, the smell of the docks, a strange and welcoming warmth... but there was no clear connection between them.

"No, mom. Nothing" you assured her once again. The last thing she needed was to add amnesia to the many problems you had.

As your gaze wandered around in the cafe, it stopped on the clock hanged on the wall. Half past eight. "I have to go now" you said, drinking the last drop of caffeine left in your mug. "Work starts in thirty minutes and the boss isn't kind to those who arrive late" you explained, searching in your pockets enough money to pay for the drinks.

"Of course" your mother nodded without moving her gaze from her tea. A smile appeared on her face but didn't reach her eyes, lost in the cold liquid left in the cup in front of her.

"Mom." She finally raised her gaze and you smiled. "Thank you for worrying but I'm okay." You moved next to her and left a kiss on her cheek. "I can take care of myself"

"I know, dear" she said, caressing gently your cheek. "Just remember that I'm here if you ever need me"

With one last thankful smile you left her at the table. Avoiding customers and waiters, you dared to check your phone only after the doors of the cafe closed behind you. Not even three steps later, you bumped your shoulder into someone leaning against the wall just outside the shop.

"I'm terribly so–" you didn't finish. You couldn't. Your breath was stuck in your throat, your voice lost somewhere in between your lungs and your tongue, as you watched the man staring back at you with wide eyes.

His coat, his tie, his dark hair felt familiar. He felt familiar; as it was the smell of rainy days in New York, or the melody of your favourite song, or the warmth radiating from a candle. There was a strange pull that drew you towards him and you suddenly felt the need to touch him, to make sure he was standing right in front of you.

"There's no need to apologise". His voice was deep and somehow melodic, but it had a raw note in it, like the blow of a stormy wind through a forest. "I shouldn't have been here in the first place; if you'll excuse me..."

Confused by the irrational feelings that made your skin itch, you moved just enough to let him walk away. You followed him with your gaze but you soon realized that the further he went away, the heavier your heart weighed in your chest.

"Wait!" you shouted, running after him. The surprise was evident on his face when he turned again towards you. "Do you– have we ever met before?"

"I don't think so. I don't live here"

"Maybe somewhere else... New Orleans, perhaps?"

Since you came back from the southern city, you felt like you had been forcefully put in a state of numbness from which there was no way of getting out on your own. Like being drowned in cold, still, infinite water.

Now your blood was finally rushing again in your veins like tides crashing on sand, your heart beating faster than it ever did filling your ears with its rhythm. You were alive again, and all of this because of a stranger that felt like home.

It just couldn't be a coincidence, it could–

"I'm sorry to disappoint but I haven't been there in years, you must've confused me with someone else"

As quickly as it rocketed, your excitement fell, making you spiral back in that numbness, almost like you had never left it.

"You're probably right" you muttered, lowering your gaze and taking a few steps back. "My apologies"

You turned your back to him, quickly putting as much space as you could between you and whatever memory that man awakened. Because, even if you didn't know who he reminded you of —or if this person ever existed— the tears pricking your eyes were real. And they were cold on your skin. And on your heart.

—

The man watched the girl walk away. Even from a distance, he noticed her hand move to her face to wipe her tears. A gesture he had seen too many times to be mistaken.

He took a deep breath when she disappeared around the corner. That was the last time he was going to see her.

Elijah turned around, jaw clenched as his heart turned cold dead again in his chest.

At least she's safe now.

For the first time, that thought didn't make the separation any easier...