#credit restoration company

[whatcomcredit]

In the realm of personal finance, few topics generate as much confusion and misconception as the credit score. As a pivotal measure of financial health, your credit score influences everything from loan approvals to interest rates. Yet, despite its significance, myths surrounding credit scores abound, leading to misinformation and poor financial decisions. This blog post seeks to debunk common myths and provide clarity on this essential financial tool.

[risingstarcredit]

We are the industry's most aggressive credit repair company, dedicated to helping you improve your credit score and achieve financial freedom. Our team of experts will work tirelessly to remove negative items from your credit report so you can get back on track and start living the life you deserve.

Website - https://risingstarcredit.com/

[nxtlvlcrdtscr]

Unravel the intricacies of credit restoration and repair with our comprehensive guide. Dive into what credit repair entails, its workings, associated services, and holistic strategies to boost your credit score. Navigate your financial health confidently.

[kccreditservices]

A Credit Restoration Specialist is an expert who is responsible for identifying and resolving errors, inaccuracies, and discrepancies in individuals' credit reports. They work closely with clients to devise personalized strategies to improve their credit scores, negotiate with creditors, and educate them on maintaining good credit practices.

[reasonsforhope]

hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(

A few different ways

1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially

Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.

And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.

Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting

2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.

But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so

3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case

We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure

4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible

Yeah, you read that right.

Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.

We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.

I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)

But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture

The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come

There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals

As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere

If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down

If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Brains & Barbie!

PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader

WORDS: 1,515.

SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…

WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.

this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox

+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?

forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol

You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...

You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.

"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.

At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.

"Y-You alright, love?"

The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.

No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.

"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."

His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.

You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...

"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].

"Wait. Need to finish this equation."

His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.

"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"

"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"

You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.

"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."

"Is that so?"

His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.

"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”

Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.

"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."

"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"

A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.

"Mhmm—"

Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.

"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"

Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.

"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"

"Is that so?"

Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.

With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.

"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"

"Y-Yes—"

Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.

"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"

"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"

A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.

"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."

As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.

"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."

Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.

With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.

"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."

"M-Michael—"

"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”

“A-Anomaly?"

A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.

"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"

"Mhmm—"

"There's no going back now, Princess..."

credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love

[ghostaholics]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!Reader ➸ TAGS/WARNING(S): none ➸ BANNER CREDIT: cafekitsune & benkeibear

Detail-oriented, exceptional manual dexterity when it comes to sewing him up. Your movements are careful and controlled – meticulous with regards to everything that you do but especially focused on how the edges line up so that they don’t overlap. Other medics – they'll rush. Botch it. A shoddy job like tectonic plates of skin forced to converge on each other, because in his line of work, stitches are an afterthought when there's another bloke with a sucking chest wound whose deep in the throes of respiratory distress and the only immediate threat about Ghost's own injury is the small amount of blood he'll lose. Whatever will get it closed. Nobody else cares much about the cosmetic factor. But you do. Painstakingly so. It's a thankless job to spend three times longer than it should to get it right, but he makes sure to express his appreciation for the consideration you put into every single graze/cut/gash (even more diligent if the injury's to any part of his arm that could mess up his tattoo sleeve). They always heal nicely.

He looks for you, after-hours – well late into the night because you were occupied patching up other soldiers. It'd been a grueling mission, lots of WIAs needing your attention. He doesn't even have a good excuse for this. It's a trivial thing, maybe, to bother you. Like asking Atlas for a favour, with the weight of the world on your shoulders and the soul-crushing responsibility of holding lives in the palms of your hands as though you're the last line of defense against death. This is stupid. This is beyond fucking stupid of him. Almost turns around and walks away from the medical tent, because that's how ridiculous it is. But he convinces himself to head in, asking if you can fix the stitching on his mask because the only person he trusts more than himself to do it is you. Though his request is benign, the significance behind it is profound in ways that he won't admit to himself. There are very few people he can count on. And of course, you say yes with a tired smile and a brightness in your eyes that never seems to dull in front of him no matter how exhausted you might be. It's one of the rare instance he lets his guard down, shows his face. He keeps you company the entire time, telling you about why he wears that mask while you restore it back to original condition.

The irony of having an injured medic: Simon's saddled with the pitiful task of having to step into your role because there's a gash on your forearm that needs to be taken care of. He knows how to do a basic stitch – is fairly confident that he can thread the sutures just like you’d showed him a million times by now whenever he’d been looking for a reason to see you ( ❝ Show me how to do it right. The proper way, yeah? ❞ ). And he's admonishing you to hold still, except it's sort of difficult when you're being treated like a bloody pincushion. He'd never let anybody else get away with making fun of him for that but this is you so he lets it slide. After talking him through it (which you find quite odd, considering that he never would've struck you as someone who’d need extra time and help), you inspect his handiwork, mildly impressed.

❝ Oh, you actually... well, you did quite a decent job. ❞ ❝ Of course. ❞ Because he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfecti— ❝ But then again, it is a little off over here, ❞ you point out, just to deflate his pride. There's still smugness to his tone. ❝ Would you like me to start over, then? ❞ ❝ Not on your life, Riley. ❞

He doesn’t mention how phenomenal he is at suturing, doesn’t mention that he sat in on a class for combat specialists early on in his career even though he didn't need to be there and was commended for his technique by the leading instructor. He definitely doesn't bring up the fact that he's been taking long on purpose just because he likes your company.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week.

January 19-26 2024

The Energy Department announced its pausing all new liquefied natural gas export facilities. This puts a pause on export terminal in Louisiana which would have been the nation's largest to date. The Department will use the pause to study the climate impact of LNG exports. Environmentalists cheer this as a major win they have long pushed for.

The Transportation Department announced 5 billion dollars for new infrastructure projects. The big ticket item is 1 billion dollars to replace the 60 year old Blatnik Bridge between Superior, Wisconsin, and Duluth, Minnesota which has been dangerous failing since 2017. Other projects include $600 million to replace the 1-5 bridge between Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon, $427 million for the first offshore wind terminal on the West Coast, $372 million to replace the 90 year old Sagamore Bridge that connects Cape Cod to the mainland,$300 million for the Port of New Orleans, and $142 million to fix the I-376 corridor in Pittsburgh.

the White House Task Force on Reproductive Healthcare Access announced new guidance that requires insurance companies must cover contraceptive medications under the Affordable Care Act. The Biden Administration also took actions to make sure contraceptive medications would be covered under Medicare, Medicaid, CHIP, and Federal Employee Health Benefits Program. HHS has launched a program to educate all patients about their rights to emergency abortion medical care under the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act. This week marks 1 year since President Biden signed a Presidential Memorandum seeking to protect medication abortion and all federal agencies have reported on progress implementing it.

A deal between Democrats and Republicans to restore the expand the Child Tax Credit cleared its first step in Congress by being voted out of the House Ways and Means Committee. The Child Tax Credit would affect 16 million kids in the first year and lift 400,000 out of poverty. The Deal also includes an expansion of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit which will lead to 200,000 new low income rental units being built, and also tax relief to people affected by natural disasters

The Senate Foreign Relations Committee voted for a bill to allow President Biden to seize $5 billion in Russian central bank assets. Biden froze the assets at the beginning of Russia's war against Ukraine, but under this new bill could distribute these funds to Ukraine, Republican Rand Paul was the only vote against.

The Senate passed the "Train More Nurses Act" seeking to address the critical national shortage of nurses. It aims to increase pathways for LPNs to become RNs as well as a review of all nursing programs nationally to see where improvements can be made

3 more Biden Judges were confirmed, bring the total number of Judges appointed by President Biden to 171. For the first time in history the majority of federal judge nominees have not been white men. Biden has also appointed Public Defenders and civil rights attorneys breaking the model of corporate lawyers usually appointed to life time federal judgeships

[probablyasocialecologist]

A carbon offset deal could see Liberia concede 10 percent of its territory to a private Emirati company, extinguishing customary land rights and giving the United Arab Emirates (UAE) pollution rights equivalent to the forest’s carbon sequestration. The deal would give the company blanket control over one million hectares of forest. The company would then “harvest” carbon credits, supposedly from restoring and protecting the land, which they would then sell onto major polluters to offset their emissions. If signed, the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) would violate a number of Liberian laws, including the 2019 land rights law, a legislation that asserts communities’ right to “customary land”. It would also concede near total control of one of the most densely forested territories in Africa to the Dubai-based firm Blue Carbon for a period of 30 years. Additionally, the deal would prevent Liberia from using the land to meet its own international climate targets.

Liberia emitted 0.24 tons of CO2 per capita in 2019; UAE emitted 20.5 tons, or 85 times more than Liberia.

[whatcomcredit]

In today’s financial landscape, having a healthy credit score is more important than ever. Whether you’re looking to buy a home, secure a loan, or get a credit card, your credit score can significantly impact your financial opportunities. Unfortunately, life can sometimes throw curveballs that negatively affect our credit. This is where Credit Restoration Services come into play, offering a lifeline to individuals looking to recover and improve their financial standing. In this blog post, we’ll explore how Credit Restoration Services can help pave the way to financial recovery and stability.

[bowieandqueen11]

Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...

Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.

I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)

Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!

(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.

You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.

'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'

Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.

The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.

So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.

The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.

When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.

Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.

Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.

And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.

With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.

This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.

This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.

Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.

He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.

'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.

'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'

'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.

'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.

He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.

But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.

'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'

'Told you what?'

'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'

For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.

'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'

'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'

The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.

And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.

Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.

That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.

He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.

He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.

But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!

Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.

Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.

You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A popular airport parking service is warning approximately one million Canadian customers that their personal information may have been compromised in a widespread data breach last month. In a statement to CTV News Toronto on Monday, Park’N Fly confirmed that a third-party had breached its networks through an unauthorized remote VPN sometime between July 11 and 13. The company's platforms were fully restored within five days of the incident, it said. The leaked information included the names, email and mailing addresses, and Aeroplan and CAA numbers of approximately one million customers, the statement said. Customers' credit card and payment information, along with passwords, were not stored on the compromised server and were therefore not impacted, it said.

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[thefallennightmare]

Fika-Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson: 1/2

*made by @madomens. check her out!*

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson x OFC.

Warnings: some angst, swearing, lots of fluff, smut, mentions of death.

Summary: To appease her dying father’s wishes, Astrid takes over the family coffee shop: Fïka. Plans to restore it to its former glory: setting her dreams and ambitions aside- that is until she meets an unexpected stranger. This very stranger changes the trajectory of her life.

Authors Note: Ok what originally was a 26k word one shot is now a two parter! I have the link to part two at the bottom of this one! Enjoy my lovelies. I hope you all enjoy my first time writing Jolly. Oh, make sure you all pay attention closely to this 😏 It took me a month to write this btw.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @somewhere-diamond @concreteemo @ladispo0p @to-be-written @lilmonster218 @whenthesummerdies @lizzieseveride @blackveilomens @malice-ov-mercy @lma1986 @klutzy-kay24 @baddestomens @cncohshit @jilliemiw86 @cookiesupplier

ASTRID

“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled while struggling to carry the large and heavy box from the stockroom up to the front area of the cafe. 

Another curse fell from my lips as I nearly tripped over the discarded and broken coffee machine that I seemed to have forgotten was lying on the floor. Then when I walked past the break room where two of my employees were enjoying their break, one of them waved me over. 

“Yes?” I grunted while pausing for a moment, still carrying the large box. 

“The turbo oven is doing that thing again where it either burns the food or doesn't cook it at all,” Jessica said with a frown. “Any idea when the new one is supposed to come in?” 

I nodded towards the box. “Two steps ahead of you.” 

As I went to push myself through the door that encased the back of the cafe from the front, my other employee, Sean, yelled after me. 

“The front door is getting stuck again! Can you WD20 it again?!” 

“IT’S WD40!” I yelled back. 

Pushing my way through the door, I felt the box beginning to slip between my sweaty fingers and I quickly walked over to the front counter, letting it fall onto it with a loud thud. 

Curious eyes from the few customers landed on me and I smiled sheepishly while shrugging. “Sorry.” 

“Uh, Astrid?” 

Whirling around, I brushed away strands of my white hair to see another one of my employees standing in front of me with an apologetic face. 

“Oh no,” I shook my head. “What’s broken now?” 

“The sink in the restroom is slow to drain and we’re running low on cold foam,” Tori said with her hands behind her back. 

“Low? How?! We’ve only been open a week and that stock was supposed to last us at least three!” I exclaimed with a high squeaky voice; one that only showed when I was stressed. 

“Sean doesn't understand the measurements,” Tori sighed. “I’ve gone over the sheet with him like four times but he still doesn’t get it.” 

Running my hands over my face, I let out a deep and calming breath, which seemed to help until the front door rattled before being thrown open, almost smacking against the black brick. 

“Jeez, you should really get this door checked out.”

Whirling around on my heels with a low scowl, I was ready to lay into this person because frankly, it was one thing after the other and I’ve fucking had it. But when I took in the appearance of these two guys, I quickly shook my head, heart dropping into my stomach. 

“You guys aren’t supposed to be here until after closing!” 

There’s that high-pitched voice again. 

“Yeah well,” the guy carrying a bucket and paintbrush shrugged. “We finished our other job early so we thought we could get started here.” 

I hired this local paint company to paint the tallest wall inside the cafe only because I didn’t have a tall enough ladder to reach the highest point. I painted everything else but didn’t want to bother with this one; it was right in the middle of the cafe lobby. 

“No, that’s not going to work,” I walked around the counter so I could stand face-to-face with this guy. “I have customers and I can’t have you paint while they’re in here.” 

“Listen, lady, all due respect-.” 

I craned my neck to the side and let out a low hiss. “I fucking hate when people say that.” 

The two painters shared a look before the one who seemed to be in charge raised a brow. “What?” 

“Typically when people say all due respect, it’s rarely followed by a respectful remark,” I said with my arms crossed. 

“Did you want us to paint this wall or not?” The guy who had been silent spoke. 

I snapped my eyes over to him. “Do you want my money or not?” 

That seemed to have shut both of them up but my hands were still shaking as my heart was hammering hard in my chest. Ever since we opened this morning, it seemed like it was problem after problem. 

Why the fuck did I agree to take over this place? 

Because it was your father's cafe and his father’s before him. You promised you’d take care of it when he passed.  

Running a tattooed hand through my long hair, I let out a deep breath. “I closed at nine. Can you come back then?” 

The one painter shook his head. “Nope. We don’t work that late.” 

Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was barely one in the afternoon, and with less than eight hours left, I had to make a decision quickly. 

Biting the inside of my cheek, I eventually nodded. “Fine, you can start now. But please, be respectful of my customers.” 

There were only three customers in here currently, a total of six since we opened at nine a.m., but I didn’t dare let them know. 

Leaving them to do their work, I let the heels of my combat boots thud against the aging wood floors as I walked back behind the counter to go over the mental checklist of my list. 

Unclog the bathroom sink.

Order more cold foam. 

Personally show Sean the correct measurements. 

WD40 the front door. 

Set up the new turbo oven. 

Quickly tying my hair into a braid, I set to work on the list. Had I known the amount of work and updating this cafe needed before I took it over from my father, I would have said no. I was twenty-five years old and had the rest of my life ahead of me, I didn’t want to be stuck trying to keep this place above water. 

Fika first opened sixty years ago when my grandparents came to the United States for an opportunity for a better life. From day one it was a music-themed cafe where they had live music nights every Friday. It succeeded well after they left it to my father when they retired. He hated the live music nights so as soon as he took over, he axed that idea. 

However, when my father got sick about five years ago, that’s when everything went to shit. 

I grew up inside of these walls and saw the stress it brought on my parents until they divorced when I was twelve. My mother wanted nothing to do with this place, claiming it was cursed, so she left. 

My father did his best to raise me solo while trying to run this cafe full-time. I would help out when I could; be here in the morning before school then here right away after school until closing. I would sit in the corner booth in front of the window to do my homework in between bussing tables. It was like that every day until I turned eighteen and went off to college. 

But any weekend I could, I’d be right back here to help my father out. Then when he got sick five years ago, I dropped out of college so I could stay home full-time to take care of him. He was in this place every single day until the day he died a few months ago. It didn’t make a lot of money the last few years so not only did he leave me the cafe, he also left me all of the debt. I wasn’t drowning in it, I still have a decent amount in savings to at least update it but not enough to create a living. 

So that was why I had put the word out that it was for sale if anyone wanted to purchase it. I needed the money to pay off my father's debts and at least survive the next few years until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. 

With a groan, I stood slowly from my crouched position as I finished fixing the front door and smiled in victory when it didn’t stick. It was after three in the afternoon and peering over my shoulder, I noticed that the painters were finishing up the now black wall and I had to admit, I felt giddy when I saw my vision slowly coming to life. 

I had a red neon sign that read Fika and I planned on hanging it up on that wall and then hanging a bunch of different guitars around it; my grandfather’s favorite on full display. 

Yes, I did have plans to eventually sell the cafe but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy getting it to where I envisioned it.  

Wiping my hands on the back of my black jeans, I set to work on reading the manual for the new turbo oven, wanting to make sure that I understood every aspect of it to show my employees. 

“Hi! Welcome to Fika!”

Jessica’s cheery voice greeted a new customer who stepped inside, the little bell that hung above the door ringing. It was a special bell, my grandparents brought it with them when they moved here. It hung up in that same spot for the last sixty years and I planned on taking it with me if this place ever sold. 

I paid no mind as I focused on now setting up the turbo oven in its new spot on the back counter. 

“Uh, Astrid?” 

My shoulders slumped at hearing Jessica’s wavering voice from behind me. I didn’t bother turning around; not yet. Maybe it was a simple fix that she could handle on her own. 

“Yes?” I answered while wiping down the new oven. 

“The credit card machine isn’t working,” Jessica now stood in the side of my vision so I had no choice but to turn towards her. 

“I swear if my hair wasn’t already white, the stress of today would have given me gray hairs,” I joked with a faint smile as I turned toward the register. 

My eyes were cast downward to the small white credit card machine, not bothering to gaze up at the customer. 

“It’s working fine,” I showed Jessica. “You just have to remember to type in the total before hitting payment.” 

“OH! Makes sense,” she squeezed my arm. “Sorry.” 

I waved her off. “It’s fine. It’s a new machine so it will take some getting used to. I’ll ring him up if you want to start on his order?” 

With a nod, Jessica scurried off to make the drink as I finally gave the person on the other side of the counter my attention. 

“Hi, it’ll be $3.25.” 

However, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of the man in front of me. Dark amber eyes shined back at me, long strands of even darker hair cast around his face, and his pink, plump lips curled up into a faint smile. The facial hair that encased around those lips made my stomach twinge in the best way and when I caught sight of the small nose ring, I nearly fell to my knees. 

It wasn’t until I saw the black card in front of my face that I snapped out of my ogling and took it with a blush covering my cheeks. 

Ringing him up, I handed back his card with a slight waver in my hand but ended up dropping it on the counter before he had the chance to grab it. 

“Shit,” I cursed as I went to reach for it but ended up knocking over the small tip jar, coins spilling over the counter. 

“Fucking perfect!” I groaned while throwing my head back. 

Could this day get any worse?

An older couple that was sitting on the stools at the bar a few spaces down from me gave me an ice-cold glare. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse,” I apologized with a fake smile. 

Even though I never watched my mouth around anyone, I couldn’t risk scaring off customers because of my vulgar words. 

I made fast work of picking up the spilled change and placed it back in the jar before looking up at the man through my lashes. 

“That will be up soon,” I cleared my throat. 

The man smiled, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of my face. “Thank you.” 

Oh fuck. 

Those two words alone made my cheeks deepen even more in a shade of crimson because there was a hint of an accent to them. I couldn’t place it but it sounded heavenly to my ears. 

Turning swiftly on my heels, I scurried to the back, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of him anymore. 

About an hour later after catching up on all the office work I had, I ventured back up to the front of the cafe when I was told the painters had finished and were waiting for a check. 

“We’re all finished, ma’am,” the older painter said with a thin-lined smile. 

My own matched his when I handed him the check. “Thank you. It looks great.” 

He went to leave but slowly turned around. “Fika? What does that mean?” 

I broke out into a genuine smile when the memory of my grandma telling me why she named this place came creeping into my mind. 

“It's Swedish. It essentially means coffee break,” I answered while pulling my black cardigan closer to me. 

As the painters left, I turned to my right to look up at the freshly painted wall and kept smiling. 

“Looks good.” 

Looking over my shoulder, I nodded to Tori. “I’m just glad they managed to stay out of customers' way.” 

“Speaking of customers,” Tori smirked while pulling me closer; she was fresh out of high school and any chance she had to gossip about something, she took it. 

“That guy in the far booth hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked out here,” Tori whispered low in my ear. 

I raised a brow. “Who?” 

She rolled her eyes, the color matching the blue apron she wore, and turned my chin to face behind me where I saw the man from earlier, perched in the corner booth; exactly like she said. 

He had a laptop on the table in front of him and a notebook next to it; the pen scratching quickly against the paper. As if he felt me staring, his eyes bounced up from the notebook to land on my face. Our eyes locked in such an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us gave up yet. With the way he was watching me, it brought a heat to my insides and I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly running dry. 

“You should go talk to him,” Tori pushed me a little his way. 

I dug my heels into the ground. “You should get back to work.” 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” she giggled while throwing a hand over her shoulder as she turned to head back to the counter. 

With one final glance over to the man in the corner booth, I bit my lip when I realized he was still watching me with curiosity in his eyes. I felt this unknown pull in my heart, dragging me over to him, and as my foot took one step in his direction, Sean’s voice called from the back. 

“UH, ASTRID! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” 

Son of a bitch. 

ASTRID

“Wait-what do you mean delay? I was told the sign would be here last Friday,” I groaned into my phone. 

“I’m sorry, miss, but with all the shipping delays it might be another week until you receive what you ordered.” The sales rep said. 

I pinched my eyes shut and sighed. “I need that sign. It was for the outside of my cafe, right now I have a dingy one that has been here since my grandparents opened and the ‘A’ is barely hanging on so now all it says is FIK so imagine my horror when people keep saying “Oh my, fik is a terrible name, dear.” 

I was rambling on to this complete stranger on the phone because of my stress and nerves. When I first took over the cafe a few months ago, the outdoor sign was old and broken so I ordered a new one but I had hopes that it’d be here before I reopened. 

Wrong. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you. We’re hoping to have it for you by the end of the month.” 

“THE MONTH?!” I nearly screeched as I came to a halt in the middle of the cafe lobby; curious eyes landing on me. 

Sean furrowed his brows while making a drink. Waving him off, I turned my attention back to my phone. “Is there any way you could put a rush order on it? Please.” 

“No,” the sales rep deadpanned. 

“Gee thanks,” I grumbled before hanging up the phone, stuffing it angrily into the pocket of my olive green jumpsuit. 

Running both hands through the long strands of my hair while I muttered a few curses. It seemed as if the last week had continued problem after problem. 

The sink in the bathroom ended up having to be replaced. 

Torri accidentally dropped a stack of brand-new coffee mugs, breaking all of them, so I still need to go out and buy some more. 

The new employee I hired last week didn’t show up for their third shift this morning, meaning we were down a person. When I texted them, they never responded. 

There was a family of raccoons living next to the dumpster outside. Sean wanted me to call animal control but I immediately declined. They weren’t hurting or bothering anyone so they could live there. 

“What are we, a wildlife rehab?” Sean asked with disbelief. 

I raised a brow while crossing my arms. “Sean, are you afraid of a couple of raccoons?” 

He scoffed. “Please. Those things just eat trash and cause havoc.” 

“Well, they’re staying. If anyone doesn't like it, they can come to me with their complaints,” I pointed my finger playfully at my employees.

With a sigh, I busied myself for the next little while cleaning up tables, talking with guests, and helping out my employees with anything they needed. I was a hands-on owner and boss, always helping when I could. Anything to make their lives and jobs easier. 

Every so often, when I mingled with the guests, I let my gaze drift to the empty corner booth; where the mystery man sat every day for the last four days. He never came at the same time but when he did show up, I managed to always be busy with front-of-house things or stuck in my office. But when I wasn't in my office, our eyes would catch every so often. However, it was my nerves that stopped me from going to ask him if he needed anything else or to strike up a conversation with him. 

Flirting in general was easy for me but with this man, his dark yet bright eyes locked me into place with a swollen tongue every time his gaze struck me. 

“Astrid, my dear!” 

Pausing from refilling the straws, I glanced at the open door and smiled at one of Fika’s regulars from when my father owned it; an older man named Phillip. 

“Hi, Phillip. How are you?” I helped guide him to a table against the black-painted wall; still empty. 

I haven't had time to hang up the variety of guitars that were slowly overtaking my office. 

“Fine, fine,” he patted my hand as I slowly helped him into the seat. “Just here for my usual honey tea with-.” 

“One piece of lemon so you can squeeze it yourself and two cannolis,” I finished for him with a nod. “Coming right up Phillip.” 

Turning on my heels, I peered over to the counter ready to tell Tori about the order but raised a brow when I noticed no one standing behind it. Glazing at the clock on the opposite wall, I cursed when I remembered that Tori’s break was now and Sean was busy watching a safety training video in the break room. 

As the door above the bell rang, indicating a new customer, I glanced down at Phillip while tapping the table. “Give me a bit and I’ll hand deliver it myself.” 

He paused reading the newspaper to give me a warm smile. “Of course, dear.” 

“I’ll be right with you,” I then called to the tall man standing at the counter but froze when our eyes met. 

His usual long hair was pulled back into a low bun, showcasing the hardness of his jaw, and I absentmindedly licked my lips. He wore a simple gray hoodie and black jeans but something about this casual outfit made my stomach flip. Since his hair was pulled back I was able to see the small piercing in his left ear. 

“Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush,” the mystery man smiled while holding onto the strap of his bag; the same bag that he brought in every day. 

I’ve come to notice that it held his notebook and laptop, with the occasional book he brought out to read every so often. 

“Th-thanks,” I stuttered while rushing behind the counter to get started on Phillip’s order. 

As I was pouring the tea into the cup, the phone from the cafe rang and I quickly answered. 

“Thank you for calling Fika. This is Astrid.” 

“Astrid!” The cheery and younger voice ran in my ear. “It’s Laura. I’m bringing in my study group, we’re a party of seven so I wanted to give you a heads up in case you didn't have the space.” 

Glancing up to the farthest corner of the cafe, secluded away from the rest, the two long sage-green couches were currently empty. 

“The loft is already booked for a private event for tonight but your usual spot is open. I’ll reserve it for you guys. Thanks for the heads up, Laura! I appreciate it.” 

“Oh please, Astrid. You’ve done so much fueling our late-night college study sessions. We’ll see you in a bit!” 

Hanging up the phone, I placed it on the counter while grabbing the tea mug in one hand and the two cannolis and slice of lemon in the other. As I passed by the tall mystery man, I gave him my best smile. 

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

He peered up from his phone. “No need to apologize. I’m very patient.” 

Ignoring the way my skin pricked and burned at the accent in his voice, I gently set down Phillip’s order with shaky hands. 

“Oh, why so nervous, dear?” Phillip commented. 

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “No reason. Enjoy.” 

Before I could leave, he gently grasped my elbow. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m sorry to hear about your father.” 

My body went rigid at the mention of my father. It was rare that a customer would bring him up because they were all new so there was no need to talk about my father which I’d been thankful for since it was still raw. The occasional regulars, like Phillip, were the ones that did. 

I swallowed thickly. “Uh, thank you. We knew for a while how sick he was but still, it was a shock.” 

“And you were the one that found him?” 

Out of the corner of my eye, the mystery man turned his head briefly my way but I kept my attention on Phillip doing my best not to let the tears win. 

“Enjoy your tea, Phillip. Let me know if you need anything else.” 

I tapped his shoulder while making my way over to the two couches in the far back of the cafe and flipped over the RESERVED sign then made my way back to the register. 

“Thanks for waiting,” I smiled up to the mystery man. “What can I get you?” 

“Black coffee with two scoops of sugar, please.” He smiled while handing me his black credit card. 

“Any sweets?” I teased, already knowing his order. 

According to Jessica and Tori, every time he came in he ordered the same thing. 

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar. 

They tried to upsell him into something different or add a sweet for his side, but every time he politely declined. 

The man’s eyes sparked as he looked at me and just as I was about to prepare myself for giving him the total, he surprised me. 

He hummed low. “What do you recommend?” 

Tapping my fingers against the edge of the counter I peered at the display case of all the homemade desserts I baked this morning. 

“Depends. What do you like?” I asked, giving him a small smile. 

I didn’t miss the way his eyes ghosted over my entire form, lingering on my tattoos. First, flowers and a crescent moon chest piece that was visible thanks to my thin straps and the low cut of my jumpsuit. Then he looked at the tattoo on my left forearm. It was of four crows flying away with their feathers falling. Then to the sleeve on my right arm, I called my Witch arm; it had different witch theme designs. 

When I scratched my cheek, I noticed the way he tracked every movement of it, seeing the Medusa head I had tattooed on the back of my hand. I had more tattoos that were hidden underneath my clothes but the thought of him stripping me to trace over them with his tongue made my face burn and I shifted on my feet. 

Finally, he shrugged. “Surprise me.” 

Pursing my lips, I grabbed a plate and the tongs, deciding on two small pieces of my grandma’s famous Kanelbullar. She passed down the recipe to me in hopes I would continue to sell them at the cafe. 

“These are a huge hit with everyone. My grandma’s recipe,” I said while handing him the plate. 

“Oh?” The man raised a brow as he looked down at the plate on the counter. 

Suddenly my palms began to sweat as he assessed the dessert. “They’re called kanelbullar; a famous Swedish desert. Otherwise known as cinnamon buns. Some people are turned off by it at first because of how it looks but I promise, they’re delicious. I made them myself this morning. All of these desserts are made fresh every morning. ” 

Now the man was smirking. “Swedish, huh?” 

I nodded. “My grandparents were born in Sweden and moved here to start their dream of opening Fika. When they retired, they moved back.” 

“Are you Swedish?” 

I cringed. “Fifty percent but don’t ask me to speak it because I’ll butcher it.” 

“How much?” He asked with a laugh while pointing to the plate. 

I waved him off while ringing his total up on the credit card machine. “I’ll charge you just for the coffee, in case you don’t like the kanelbullar. But, it’s a one-time thing.” 

I playfully pointed a finger at him, one he chuckled at before taking his card back. 

“That’s very sweet of you, thank you,” he gave me a smile that made me weak in the knees. 

Clearing my throat, I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and reached for a cardboard cup. “Can I have a name for the order?” 

“Joakim.” 

I paused mid-writing. “Uh, do you mind spelling it? I don’t want to be the kind of a barista that messes up people's names.” 

“You can call me Jolly,” he chuckled.

“See,” I pointed the marker at him. “That I can spell. Joakim is an interesting name though.” 

I began pouring the coffee into his cup but nearly spilled it when his next words shocked me. 

“It’s Swedish.” 

“Wait,” I set down the pot and cup before turning back to him. “Are you telling me you let me ramble on about a Swedish dessert when you fully knew what it was?” 

The man, Jolly, was full-on grinning now as he popped one of the kanelbullars in his mouth, licking off the sticky cinnamon syrup. I had to force myself to bite back a moan at the sight. 

“Du var söt så jag sa inget,” Jolly said, then took a drink of his coffee when I handed it to him. 

With my furrowed brows of confusion, he chuckled. “You have no idea what I’m saying do you?” 

“Not a fucking thing,” I giggled while scrunching my nose. “I was born here in California and my grandma only taught me the basics but those are long forgotten.”

“How long have you owned the place?” He wondered. 

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “A few months now but I only recently reopened. When I took it over after my father, it needed a lot of upgrades and fixes. Which it still does. But I plan on selling it once it is ready.” 

Jolly raised a brow. “You’re going to sell?” 

“Uh, yeah,” I rubbed my elbow nervously. “Owning this place was never my endgame. It’s been in the family for years, yes, but the potential of the money if I sell would help out a lot.” 

Tears gathered in the corner of my hazel eyes when I knew deep down the real reason why I wanted to sell; it reminded me too much of my father. 

“You’ve created a nice place here,” he admitted while looking around at the place. “The plants add a nice touch.” 

I had a variety of different plants littered all over the place as a way to bring life and color into the dull lighting.  

I hummed. “Here I thought it was the coffee that brought you in every day.” 

“Oh, it is, however, I’m more into the barista who made it today,” Jolly winked. 

My cheeks burned all the way to the tops of my ears. “Oh, well. That’s very sweet of you.” 

With the cup in one hand and plate in the other, Jolly winked. “Thank you, Astrid. I’ll be coming back for a refill.” 

“I’ll be here to help with that,” I rushed out a bit fast and mentally cursed myself for sounding desperate. 

But then I realized he said my name and the way it sounded on his lips made my core itch with desire. 

“You know my name?” I asked while twirling my fingers. 

“I’ve heard it quite a lot the last week from your employees needing something,” he joked. 

I playfully rolled my eyes while making a new batch of black coffee so he could have the fresh stuff when he needed it. “I love them. It’s not their fault this place is old and falling apart.

Jolly sat in his typical booth that was near the ride side of the counter, in front of the window. “Do you know the meaning behind your name?” 

“I know it’s Swedish,” I answered with a shrug.

He nodded. “It means divinely beautiful.” 

Now my entire body was inflamed with how Jolly was staring at me, his dark eyes devouring me, but before I could respond, Sean and Tori emerged from the back. 

“Alright, boss. Where do you want us?” Tori clapped her hands. 

Her break was over and Sean must have finished his training video. 

“Tori, you’re working the private party. They should be here by 3 so can you make sure everything in the loft is set up?” I asked. 

She nodded with a wide smile. “Of course. Who’s it this time?” 

When I took over Fika, I noticed there was this huge, unused space upstairs that I could use for either extra seating if we got too busy or for private events. Tonight, there was a local book club that rented out the space. 

“LA’s Book Ladies.” 

“Again? Weren’t they here last week?” Sean asked. 

Nodding, I handed Tori the box of supplies she would need to set up the loft before ushering her away. “They're interested in renting out the space every Thursday for their book club.” 

The bell above the door indicated a new group of customers; Laura’s study group. 

I motioned Sean over to them. “Jessica will be here in five minutes. She can help you prepare their order once you take it.” 

Once Sean scurried over towards the group, I darted my gaze over to where Jolly was sitting, noticing that he had headphones on as he worked on his laptop, the plate empty. 

Before I could bring him another round of coffee and kanelbullars, my phone rang and I immediately recognized the number. 

“Hi, mormor,” I smiled into the phone. 

“Min älskling,” my grandmother’s old, frail voice made me smile even wider. “How are things?” 

With the sudden commotion from the study group settling in, I decided to take the rest of my phone call in my office.

JOLLY

“Son of a fucking bitch!” 

Snapping my eyes up from my phone, I watched Astrid with a small smile as she stepped onto the small ladder to hang up a guitar, only to be a few inches short. She’d been working on hanging up guitars on the black wall for the last ten minutes, something I watched with intent and curious eyes. 

It had been a few days since our first conversation and since then, we shared stolen glances anytime I was here and she was working up front. We talked when she wasn’t busy but it always pertained to the same topic. 

“How's your coffee?” 

“Would you like a refill?”

Astrid did try to deter me from my usual order but I always stayed the same. 

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar. I did, however, let her decide on my sweets. Today it was something simple; baklava. 

Another thing she baked herself. 

When Astrid slid over the coffee to me this morning, I curled a brow at the mug she had given me. She merely shrugged with a coy smile before busying herself with going about and watering all the plants in the cafe. 

I snicked while grabbing the white mug that had ‘Jolly’ written across it and sat in my usual booth in front of the large window. The green velvet of the bench seat and the oak wood of the table I sat at became a sense of familiarity. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I marveled at how her ice-white hair was pulled back into a tight bun, showcasing her defined cheekbones and bright hazel eyes. Astrid’s leg was exposed due to the long slit in her long black skirt and I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her shin; a moth, a rose, and a half-crescent moon. She was covered in tattoos and I couldn’t ignore the voice in my head that begged me to find out if she had any other ones hidden. 

When I was walking downtown a few weeks ago and saw the opening soon sign on the battered door of Fika, I was curious about who was taking over. I used to stop in every once in a while when Astrid’s father ran the place but ever since my life and work schedule with Bad Omens took off, I came in less and less. 

But that day when I saw Astrid’s faint figure covered in a type of green paint as she painted the walls, I was transfixed. The vision of her took my breath away and I stopped to watch her for a few seconds. The few times I stopped in when her father owned the cafe, I never noticed her. So when I heard that she was the one taking over, I decided to make more of an effort to stop in when I could, however, I never expected I’d be here every other day. 

Noah called me out last week about how often I came here and told me not to “fall in love”. I had no intention to, not wanting to get into a relationship with how often I was gone on the road, but the second my eyes met with hers, I knew Astrid would consume every part of me. 

“I chose the wrong day to wear my fucking vans.” 

Shaking from my thoughts, I peered over to Astrid as she now stood on the tips of her toes to try and hang up a guitar on one of the highest hooks. 

“Need some help?” I asked while rising to my feet. 

She was only a few feet away from where I’d been sitting. 

“Oh, no, Jolly. I don’t want to bother you,” Astrid said, waving me off. 

I shrugged while brushing the hair away from my face; opting to leave it down today. 

“I mean this is the nicest way possible Astrid, but you’re shorter than me. I could reach that hook with ease,” I informed. 

She playfully gawked with a hand over her heart, the other clutching the guitar. “My, I thought you were one of the sweeter ones.” 

I chuckled and motioned her to step off the ladder. “Get off of there before you hurt yourself.” 

“I’ll have you know,” she came down the three-rung ladder, “I did every single update in this place. Without hurting myself.” 

I took the guitar from her with a raised brow. “Are you sure about that?” 

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I tripped over a bucket of paint and cut my finger while setting up the new coffee machine but that’s it.” 

“For now,” I joked while taking a tentative step toward her. 

“Oh, someone thinks they’re funny today,” she crossed her arms but the smile on her blood-red lips told me she was loving our banter. 

With mere inches between us, Astrid peered up at me through her long lashes and swallowed thickly. 

“Well, I must say. You are taller than me,” her voice was quiet but yet loud enough just for me to hear. 

My fingers itched with the want to brush away the loose strand of hair that hung in her eyes. When her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, I internally groaned at how seductive that simple action was and I almost had to force myself to take a step away from her. One of my hands was still holding onto the guitar, and the other was hanging to my side, so close to Astrid’s that I could feel the heat radiating off of her. Our eyes were locked with each other, my dark ones paled in comparison to her bright hazel ones. They burned deep into my soul, in the best way, and I found myself swimming in their depths. I was hypnotized by her gaze that I didn’t realize our fingers brushed against one another, sparks shooting through my entire essence with the simple touch of her skin on mine. 

“How many do you have left to hang up?” I cleared my throat, breaking the sudden sexual tension, and held up the guitar. 

“Uh,” Astrid blinked. “Just two more. I have to run to the back to grab the last one.” 

With a nod, I let her run off to grab the last guitar as I took the two steps up the step ladder, hanging up the guitar I had on its designated hook. Once back on my feet, I took a few steps back to admire how the guitar wall looked. The bright red, neon FIKA sign was in the middle with one unused hook underneath it. 

“Here we go!” Astrid smiled as she came back to the front of the cafe. “Please be careful with this one. It’s an old one and means a lot.” 

For once, she didn’t have my full attention. It was on the guitar in her hand. 

A blue Teisco Del Rey ET-312. Otherwise known as a sharkfin guitar. Something I made known. 

“You know guitars, huh?” she asked as I gently took it from her. 

“Yeah, I know a thing or two,” I kept my answer simple, not wanting to give too much about me away. It was clear she had no idea who I was outside of the cafe and I wanted to keep it like that for a little while longer. 

As I gazed down at it, Astrid told me the story behind it. 

“It was my grandfather's. He absolutely loved playing it when he wasn’t spending all of his time here. I remember he let me play it one Christmas when I was 7. I was terrible and my parents vowed to never put me into any lessons to save their ears,” she ended her story with a light chuckle. 

“He didn’t take it back with him when they moved back to Sweden?” I asked, remembering she told me her grandparents moved back a few years ago. 

“Nope. He gave it to me. I’m not sure why, though. I never learned to play. Hopefully, he won’t be so mad that I decided to hang it up.” 

Ever so carefully, I went back up the step ladder and placed it on its hook. It wasn’t until I was standing next to Astrid again that I gave her a wicked smile. 

“This looks pretty badass, Astrid. I love how it turned out,” I admired. 

She smiled, eyes sparkling as she looked at it. “Me too. Thank you for your help, Jolly.” 

Astrid bumped her shoulders with mine and not only did the sparks return but so did the fluttering in my stomach. 

The bell above the door jingled, making her jump slightly before turning around, her voice raising an octave to greet the customer. 

“Hi, welcome to Fika!” 

I didn’t miss the ‘woah’ under her breath and with furrowed brows, I turned on my heels but rolled my eyes at who walked in the door. 

Noah took one look between Astrid and me, how close we were standing next to each other, and the corner of his lips curled up. 

“Hi,” he smiled. 

“What can I get you?” Astrid asked as she walked over to the register behind the counter. 

“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” Noah declined politely while holding a hand over his chest. 

“You sure you don’t want some mochis? I hear they’re pretty special,” I teased. 

Noah shot me a glare, one I ignored by packing up my things. He must have finished his therapy session early and we're going to head to rehearsals for the next two days to prepare for the upcoming week-long festivals Bad Omens were set to headline. 

“You two know each other?” Astrid pointed between us. 

“He’s my roommate,” I answered before Noah could. 

He picked up on how rushed my answer was but knew with my pleading eyes not to say anything else about how we know each other. 

“I’m Noah,” he extended his hand towards her. 

She smiled while shaking it. “Astrid. Owner of Fika.” 

“I’ve heard great things about you. And this place. It’s one of Jolly’s favorites,” Noah said. 

Astrid’s eyes glinted as we looked at each other and I swore all of the oxygen left my lungs with how intense her gaze was. 

She hummed low. “I’m starting to realize that.” 

Hiding my burning cheeks beneath the length of my hair, I cleared my throat and patted Noah on the back.

“We should go.” 

He nodded at me before turning back to Astrid. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe next time, I’ll join Jolly.” 

“Sure,” she nodded, still wearing that beautiful smile. “Oh, here. At least take some coconut water for the road!” 

Astrid bent down to reach into the fridge and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her. Noah snickered next to me which in turn, made me smack his chest. 

“Fuck, man,” he grunted while rubbing it. 

“Here you guys go!” She handed us the two bottles of coconut water and my fingers grazed hers yet again when I grabbed mine. 

This time it was Astrid who seemed affected by it with the way her breath hitched and quickly stuffed her hands in the pockets of her long skirt. 

“What do I owe you?” Noah asked while reaching for his wallet. 

“On the house,” she said.

“Now I can see why Jolly likes you,” Noah ran a hand through his hair. 

The new shorter length was something not only he but I was getting used to. As long as I’d known him, Noah had some sort of long hair. 

Before I could retort, one of her employees came rushing up behind Astrid, needing her attention for something. 

“Sean, they’re just raccoons. As long as you leave them alone, they won’t bother you,” she laughed. 

The noise made my heart ache in my chest, wanting to be the only one to be the reason why she laughed like that. 

“I’m telling you, Astrid. There are at least six of them now. How am I supposed to throw away the trash if they’re living in the dumpster?”

With a deep sigh, she excused herself from us with a small wave and that was my cue to pull Noah along as we stepped out into the late Los Angeles afternoon air. 

He took a long drink of his coconut water as we walked towards his car which was parked down the block. 

“So that’s Astrid,” he noted with a hum. 

“Don’t start,” I grumbled while putting on my sunglasses. 

Noah held up his hands. “She’s cute, Jolly. I can see why you spend a lot of time here. Though it doesn’t seem like she knows who either of us is.”

I shook my head with a thankful breath. “No, she doesn’t. Although you seemed to take her breath away when she saw you.”

He snorted. “You don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for-.” 

“I know, I know,” I waved him off before he finished his sentence. 

It was clear who Noah only had eyes for. It took a long time for him to finally realize that.

We reached Noah’s car and as he stood in front of the driver's door and me on the passenger side, we both rested our arms on the hood of the car. Noah’s almond eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses but I knew they were assessing my face. 

“Do you plan on telling her who you are and what you do?” He wondered. 

“If I’m being honest, it’s been nice not having her know or treating me differently.” 

Noah nodded. “I understand that. But take it from me, not communicating the truth can delay things. And it’s not healthy.” 

Understatement of the year.

“I’ll tell her; soon,” I said. 

“What is she going to think when you’re gone for 9 days and don’t show up for your daily coffee?” 

“We should go, you know how Matt gets when we’re late,” I said, changing the subject, and opened the door to slide into the passenger seat. 

Noah tapped the roof of his car before he followed my actions. 

ASTRID

“I don’t know what to do, mormor. One guy put in an offer, it wasn’t great but enough to keep me afloat for a while if I do decide to sell,” I spoke into my phone as it was perched between my shoulder and ear, hands busy stocking the cafe. 

“Astrid, I sense there’s something else stopping you,” my grandmother observed. 

I shrugged with my free shoulder. “If I’m being honest, I like running Fika. It keeps me motivated to get out of bed every morning. My employees are great, same with the customers. I have a lot of regulars that tell me I should keep the place; keep it in the family name.” 

One especially lingered on my mind always. His long brown hair, ever darker brown eyes, and that nose ring that seemed to accentuate his face perfectly. 

“Min älskling, it’s whatever you decide. We left Fika to your father who in turn left it to you because we trust you. Don’t feel as if you need to keep it for us. We don’t want to see you do something with regret.” 

I finished stocking the straws and went to work stocking the sugar packets. “I know. I do wish you and farfar could come visit and see what I’ve done with it.” 

My heart sank when I thought of my grandfather and knowing the real reason why they couldn’t leave Sweden right now. My grandmother was still young and healthy enough to travel but she couldn’t leave my grandfather in case something happened to him. 

Alzheimer's had slowly been deteriorating his brain, making life difficult for both of them. It was the same disease that took my father months ago. 

My grandmother sighed. “Someday I’ll come visit. But your farfar-.” 

“I know,” I said suddenly. “It’s alright.” 

We talked for a few more minutes before I said goodbye and pocketed my phone into my jeans. Rolling up the sleeves of my orange cardigan I busied myself with more work. It was Saturday afternoon and Fika was busier than normal; the sunshine and cool LA weather brought everyone out. 

Well, not everyone. 

For the last week, anytime the bell above the door jingled, my head would snap up expecting to see Jolly, but every time my heart would drop when it wasn’t him. I had become so accustomed to seeing him almost every day that when he stopped coming in, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I had done. 

Maybe he finally grew sick of your coffee. And you.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I went about mingling with some of my regulars. The cool air slipped inside as someone walked in through the door, tickling the exposed skin of my stomach because of the black lace bralette I wore. 

Deciding to head to my office, I was in my head thinking about what I possibly could have done to make Jolly leave for a week, that I didn’t see the body I collided with until it was too late. 

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, large hands gripping the small of my back, as my hands sprawled out on the thick chest. Peering up through my lashes, I drank in the sight of those dark eyes. 

“H-hi,” I stuttered while swallowing thickly. 

“Hello,” Jolly smiled as his hands absentmindedly rubbed at my back. 

The feeling sent a shockwave through my veins and I reveled in his touch, desperately needing it all over me. 

His hair was hidden beneath the hat he wore, the hood of his black sweater pulled over that. There was a new look of exhaustion in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. It was as if the usual light behind them had dulled since our last encounter. 

However the longer we stared at each other, I could see the light returning. I so badly wanted to ask him where he’d gone the last nine days but didn’t want to make it seem like I noticed. Even though I did. 

I also found myself missing his presence after the third day he didn’t show up. 

“The usual?” I asked after a beat of silence. 

Jolly gave me a warm smile, hands still wrapped around me. “Have I worked myself up to a usual kind of guy?”

I playfully patted his chest. “It's easy when I can make your drink in my sleep.” 

“I like what I like,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine as he did. 

Silence fell between us as we continued to stay in each other's embrace, neither of us ready to break apart. Until Tori’s voice broke through the small bubble Jolly and I created. 

“Astrid, there’s a Jackson on the phone for you.” 

Shit. 

Slowly removing myself from Jolly, I cleared my throat. “I have to take that, but give me a few minutes and I’ll bring you your coffee.” 

“Of course,” he nodded. 

Turning my back to him, I took the cafe phone from Astrid while ignoring her smug smirk as she watched Jolly walk to his table.

“This is Astrid,” I answered the call. 

“Astrid, this is Jackson Hewitt, I’m calling about that little coffee shop you own on the corner of W. 9th Street. Freka.” 

“Fika,” I corrected with a stern voice. 

This was our third conversation and he still couldn't pronounce the name correctly; either he couldn’t or didn’t bother enough to care. 

“Right,” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m calling to check in to see if you’ve thought about my offer.” 

Staying on the phone with him, I poured the black coffee with two scoops of sugar into the white Jolly cup and plated two chocolate chip cookies. 

“You only sent the offer the other day, Jackson. I need longer than that to think if I accept or not,” I said as I made my way over towards where Jolly sat. 

His usual booth in the corner by the large window.  

“Or not?” Jackson repeated my words. “Come on, Astrid. This is probably the best deal you will get for that place. It’s better if you take it now because I can’t promise it will be the same amount next time I make it.” 

I set the plate and coffee down on the table in front of Jolly with a bit of force, not meaning to, so he glanced up at me. 

“Listen, Jackson. With absolutely no respect, I’m not interested in selling my place to someone who’s going to turn it into a chain restaurant. If I lose money, so what? At least I kept my dignity and didn’t sell out.” 

I placed my hand on my hip, still standing in front of Jolly who watched me with a slight smirk. 

“Woah, Astrid. In no way are you selling out. I just have great plans for that space. I know how hard it has been keeping it afloat after your father died.” 

My body went rigid as a low scowl pulled on my lips. This asshole knew absolutely nothing about my father or how well Fika had been doing. The first few weeks were rough but I found a good rhythm and soon, we began to flourish. The income had been steady for everything and everyone involved. 

Plus, I hadn’t smiled or felt this good about my future in a long time. 

“My father and his passing have nothing to do with my decision. You’ve never stepped foot inside of Fika, so don’t pretend you know how my business is doing,” I did my best to keep myself composed in front of the customers, especially Jolly. 

“You know what, I’ll give you another day to think-.” 

“No, I’ve made my decision. Fika is no longer for sale, thanks for your interest but please do not contact me again.” 

Before Jackson could respond, I hung up the phone and pinched my eyes shut; the ongoing onslaught of a migraine creeping its way into my head. 

“You’ve decided not to sell?” 

Jolly’s soft voice made me jump slightly and when our gazes met, it pulled me in to sit across from him.

“Yeah,” I nodded while tapping my fingers against the table. “I’ve talked with my grandma a little bit about it. She supports me no matter what I decide but I couldn’t imagine letting this place go. It has too many memories behind it.”

“It’s a great place, Astrid. You should be proud of what you’ve done here,” he said. 

I smiled. “I am. I’ve slowly put myself into this place so I can’t let it go.” 

“Well,” Jolly took a small sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep it.” 

I rested my chin on my palm. “Me too. It helps that the clientele have been so wonderful.” 

A low rumble emanated from his chest as he pointed to his coffee. “Does anyone else get a special cup with their name on it?” 

“No, those are saved for the real special ones,” I winked. 

Something dark flashed in Jolly’s eyes as he leaned farther back into his chair, extending his long legs on the right side of me, locking them at his ankles. My eyes dragged up the length of them until my gaze landed on his eyes, a playful gleam behind them as he caught me staring at him. 

My cheeks burned as I shifted in my seat. 

“Nervous?” Jolly questioned with a sudden darkness in his voice as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. 

We were so close now, that I could feel his warm breath across my face. 

“N-nope.” I did my best to remain calm and poised but was failing. Something he immediately picked up on. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Licking my lips, I parted them to speak, something Jolly tracked with intense eyes. My pussy was aching with such a force of desire I was afraid he would be able to smell my desire with how close he was to me. There was this sudden pull between us that made me lean up towards him, Jolly’s lips meters from mine. I almost missed the intake of his breath, the sound muted with the hustle and bustle of the cafe.

“Astrid, the delivery truck is outside!” 

Jumping away slightly from Jolly, I cleared my throat while looking towards the counter, Sean waving me over. 

“I should-.” I threw a thumb over my shoulder when I looked back at Jolly. 

He nodded, adjusting the hat on his head. “Of course.” 

With one final glance, I stepped out of the booth and spent the next long while putting away the respective boxes from our weekly delivery. It was a bit larger than normal so by the time I finished, it was nearing 4 in the evening and when I emerged up the front of the cafe, the large groups that were there earlier dwindled to only a few. 

“How have things been?” I asked Jessica. 

She was wiping down the front counter and shrugged. “Not too bad. A steady influx of customers. But one managed to stay the entire time you were busy.” 

“Almost as if he was waiting for you,” Tori popped up from in front of the counter as she was cleaning the glass of the dessert display case. 

I crossed my arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Sean snorted from his spot in the little kitchen to my left. “Astrid, this guy has been in here almost every single day and stays for a few hours all while looking at you. Take it from me, this guy is interested.” 

While they were a few years younger than me, I didn’t brush off their observations yet. 

“Jolly is a regular,” I started to defend. 

Tori’s eyes widened. “That’s why you’ve been giving him his coffee in that cup!” 

I hushed her with a wave of a hand when other customers peered over at us. Thankfully, it seemed as if Jolly had his headphones in as he clicked away at his laptop. 

“You should give him your number,” Jessica suggested. 

“No,” I shot down with a shake of my head. 

Although the prospect of giving Jolly my number did make my heart flutter. 

“Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen? He ignores you?” Tori wondered. 

I placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t you guys have better things to do than worry about my dating life?” 

“He’s here almost every day and I hate to break it to you, but it’s not because of the coffee. He can have simple black coffee at home but he chooses to come here,” Sean said once he finished cleaning one of the ovens. 

“I’m going to see if he needs anything else,” Jessia piped up, quickly scurrying around the counter. 

Her name fell in a hushed tone as I watched her walk over to where Jolly sat. Their conversation couldn’t be heard from my spot in the cafe but when he smiled politely at her with a nod, my stomach fluttered with those damn butterflies. Every part about Jolly made my skin buzz with electricity and heat. Jessica returned to the front counter with a sly smirk. 

“Jolly said he will take a coffee for the road and a dozen of you famous Kanelbullar’s. Oh, and a pack of those chocolate mochis. Something about a friend of his loving those. But Tori and I can’t make his order because we have to clean the loft.” 

“We do?” Tori asked with confusion which made Jessica smack her arm. “Oh, yes! Right. We do. Sean, can you take care of Jolly’s order?” 

“No can do. It’s time for my break,” Sean said as he walked into the back.

I playfully narrowed my eyes at all three of them. “You guys think you’re so slick but I know what you’re doing.” 

As the three of them dispersed, I went to work on getting Jolly’s to go order together. With my fingers wrapped around the togo cup, I mewled at my decision for a long moment before internally saying fuck it. The worst that can happen is that he ignores my texts. 

And break your heart in the process. 

Choosing to ignore that thought, I scribbled down my number with the letter A on the cup, then filled it with black coffee and two scoops of sugar. As I was bagging his desserts, Jolly came up to the counter with his card in hand. 

“Tell your friend these mochis are a favorite here,” I smiled. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know. He kind of has a weird obsession with them,” he chuckled. 

Ringing him up for everything, I handed back his card then hesitantly his cup and bag of goodies. Jolly gave nothing away that he saw my number written in black ink on his cup. 

“So, see you tomorrow?” I asked, not being able to hide the hope in my voice. 

He ran a hand over his jaw. “I actually have this party that will have my attention all day. But I’ll be back on Sunday. Can't go too long without these Kanelbullars.” 

The front counter stood between us and with the way he smiled, I wanted to jump across it into his arms. 

Instead, I decided to remain professional and nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure to have a fresh batch for you on Sunday.” 

With a wink, Jolly raised the cup to his lips to take a small sip of his coffee. “I can’t wait, Astird.” 

The way my name fell from his lips nearly made me moan in pleasure and I wanted to hear him say it again; the accent doing wonders for it. 

With a gentle wave, I watched him walk out of the cafe before busing myself to help close up the cafe. Every so often I would peek at my phone to see if there was a new message from an unknown number and every time, my heart would sink when I realized there wasn’t. 

Just as I was about to give up hope, my phone buzzed when I was locking up the front door and walking to my car parked across the street. 

Unknown: Hi, it’s Jolly. Apologies it took me a while to text you. I noticed your number on the cup the second you handed it to me. But with work, it pulled me away from my phone. So now that I have a minute, hi.

I grinned as I read the message over a few more times before plopping into the driver's seat of my car. I debated on how to respond for a few minutes. 

Me: Hi :) how did your friend like the mochis?

As I finished saving his contact, Jolly responded. 

Joakim: Loved them. Ate half of the Kanelbullar as well. 

I giggled at the next message that came in; a simple frown emoji. 

Me: Well, I’ll make sure to throw in a few extra just for you next time.

Joakim: I’m looking forward to it. 

With the smile still plastered to my face, I plugged in my phone to my car and for the first time in a long while, enjoyed the drive home after a long day's work. 

ASTRID

I opened Fika about two hours ago, a slow steady stream of customers coming in as soon as the door opened, and I’d been carefully watching to see if Jolly would show up. We texted for a little while yesterday since I was home sick in bed and when he sent me a picture of the outfit he wore to his party, I had to pause my movie to stare at it. Black jeans, black long sleeves, and a black jacket on top. 

With the large mirror I had leaning against one of the cafe walls, something I set up for people to take selfies in front of with their coffees, I brushed away any lint on my black sweater dress and adjusted my tights. I made sure not a strand of hair fell out of my French braid and smiled to myself. 

“You know what they said about Narcissus,” Sean chuckled as he caught me giving myself another once over. 

“Ha, ha,” I narrowed my eyes while resting my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t you be bussing tables?” 

“Waiting for a certain someone?” He teased with a raised brow before he went to work cleaning up the tables. 

Before I could retort, the bell above the door rang which made me turn swiftly on my feet. My heart rate picked up at the sight of Jolly as he walked in with two other guys on each side of him. His hair was falling to his shoulders in chocolate waves and when he took off his sunglasses, his dark amber eyes immediately found me to scan every inch of me. I felt frozen but hot under his gaze and pulled at the ends of my sweater dress, suddenly feeling as if it wasn’t perfect enough for him. 

“Hi,” Jolly smiled. 

The two men he came in with watched us with curious smiles, the one of Jolly’s left I recognized as his roommate that came in here a few weeks ago. 

"Hey you, the usual?" I asked. 

He smiled with a slight nod. "You know me so well."

I peered over to the two others, pointing to the one I recognized. “Noah, right?” 

The heavily tattooed man nodded while adjusting the hood of his sweater and that's when I noticed the writing along the front of it. 

“Oh, shit. Hereditary! I love that movie,” I exclaimed. 

Noah's eyes brightened. “Yeah?” 

“A24 has made some phenomenal films. Although, the ending kind of fucked me up,” I admitted with a laugh.

As I looked over to the other man who wore glasses, I missed the look that Jolly and Noah shared. 

“Hi, I’m Astrid.” 

“Jesse,” he held a hand against his chest. “Jolly’s other roommate. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about this place.” 

“Oh,” I gazed back over to Jolly, never taking my eyes off of him. “All good things, I hope?” 

Jolly licked his lips. “Definitely.” 

It seemed as if time slowed to almost a stop as we stared at each other and there was a pull deep within my soul that made me want to step into his embrace, letting him wrap those arms around me. 

Clearing my throat finally, I motioned to the coffee machines. “What can I get you guys?” 

Already knowing Jolly’s order, Noah and Jesse gave me theirs and I went to work getting it ready while they sat in Jolly’s regular booth. When Tori came in for her shift, I asked if she could carry Noah’s and Jesse’s drinks while I carried Jolly’s and the large plate of a variety of sweets for them. 

“The one in the black hoodie is cute,” Tori nodded towards Noah. 

I tilted my head towards her. “Oh, what happened to Tyler?

“Ugh, don’t say his name. I want to forget the last two weeks of my life with that man,” Tori stated. 

“Fair enough,” I nodded firmly and chuckled. 

“Besides,” she shook out her long red locks, “I seemed to have found someone else to occupy my mind with.” 

“Tori,” I warned as we walked over to the guys’ table. 

“Here you guys go,” she all but ignored Jesse while smiling down at Noah as she gave him his drink. 

Noah kept his attention on his phone, only briefly giving Tori a smile of thanks before he went back to typing away on his phone. Her confidence deflated but she still kept that brightening smile on her face. 

As I set down Jolly’s cup and plate of fresh kanelbullar as promised, he gazed up at me with a smile. 

“Thank you, Astrid.” 

I shivered at the way he said my name. 

“Of course. Do you guys need anything else?” I asked all three of them. 

“Actually,” Noah spoke up while giving me his full attention. “My girlfriend is meeting us here and asked if I can put her coffee order in.” 

Tori faux sighed before retreating to behind the coffee counter. Jesse watched her with raised brows. 

“Tori will be fine,” I chuckled. “What does your girlfriend want to drink?” 

“Medium chai tea iced with oat milk, please,” Noah smiled warmly as he rattled off the drink; almost as if he was remembering a memory. 

“Oh, a girl after my own heart,” I joked. “What’s her name?” 

After Noah told me her name, I tapped the table twice before stalking back to the coffee bar, feeling a set of hot eyes on my back the entire time. I was quick to make the drink, all while humming a soft tune to myself, and as I turned back to bring the drink to Noah, the bell above the door rang. I watched as a brunette walked in, eyes gazing almost over every inch of my space with a faint smile before she noticed the guys. Quietly, she tiptoed over to Noah and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

Just watching how the two of them interacted and all the love in their eyes, as they stared at each other before Noah cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, made my heart yearn for love like that. 

"Sorry I'm late,” the brunette apologized as Noah pulled out the seat next to him. “Chase and Malcolm wanted to catch up after the album release party.” 

"Order for Y/N!" I called out with a smile.

The brunette, Y/N, went to stand, but Noah was quick to force her gently back into her seat. “No, angel. Let me get it.” 

My eyes locked with Jolly’s and he quickly waved off his friends. “I can do it. Sit.”

While he walked towards the counter, I noticed Noah mutter something in Y/N’s ear, her giggling widely. 

“Could I also get a few mochis?” Jolly asked as he reached me. 

I nodded. “Of course. Any specific flavor?” 

“Whichever is fine. Y/N and Noah have a weird connection with them.”  

My brows furrowed as I went about to plate a few of them. “Really?” 

“That’s his nickname,” Jolly smiled as I handed him the plate of mochis and Y/N’s coffee. 

“A nickname, huh?” I wiped my hands on the sides of my dress before leaning my elbows on the counter to rest my chin in my palm.  

“Don’t tell him I told you, he gets uptight.” He chuckled while leaning down towards me. 

I peered up at him while fake-locking my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Have you,” Jolly’s fingers grazed over one of the tattoos on my arm and I shivered under his touch. “Have you ever had a nickname?”

His tattooed fingers brushed back the long strands of hair as I gazed upon the sharp features of his face, the defined cheekbones, and the facial hair that surrounded his perfect, plump lips. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been given a nickname," I answered truthfully. 

“Oh well that’s just a shame,” Jolly shrugged. 

His confidence gave me some of my own and I gazed up at him through my lashes as he continued to stand on the other side of the counter. 

“It is," I tucked a strand of my white hair that somehow fell from my French braid behind my ears. "Any suggestions?”

“Käraste," Jolly said almost too quickly, as if he thought about this before. 

My cheeks burned as I locked eyes with him. Hearing the unknown word fall from his lips made my stomach flip and pussy clench. I squeezed my legs together to curb the itch. 

“What? Too much?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious. 

I quickly shook my head to reassure him while standing straight up on my feet. “No. No, I- I like it. What does it mean?”

With a smirk, Jolly tapped the counter before grabbing the cup and plate of mochis. "I think I'll keep that to myself." 

I chuckled while shaking my head and watched as he walked back over to the corner couch, where his friends waited for him.

For a while, I was busy running the front counter while Sean and Tori worked the kitchen area. There’d been a slow steady stream of customers that kept us all busy but I knew that at some point I needed to slip back into my office for management work. However, before I did that, I brought the pot of black coffee and a small jar of sugar over to Jolly to refill his cup and then set down the sugar. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N!” 

Giving her a bright smile, I shook her extended hand. “Hi, I’m Astrid.” 

Y/N motioned to Jolly. “I’m glad I listened to him about coming here. I’ve been wanting to for a while now, my therapist is right next door, and every time I walk past, the smell of the sweets gets me.” 

“Oh, Dr. Poulos! She comes in every day before her two p.m. appointment and gets a small cup of Greek coffee and baklava to go,” I informed. 

Noah spoke next. “You know, I noticed the to-go bag in her office one time but never put two and two together.” 

Y/N linked her fingers with his to rest them in her lap. “Well, it’s a lovely place you have here. The mochi are delicious.” 

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Well, I won’t bother you guys any longer. If you guys need anything else, let Tori or Sean know and they’d be happy to help you.” 

Before I could walk away, Jolly’s fingers grazed over mine and I peered down at him. 

“Thank you, käraste.”

My cheeks burned as I squeezed his hand and slipped away from them, into the confines of my office to enjoy the way the nickname set every fiber of my being ablaze. 

Since it was Sunday, I always closed Fika at 5 p.m. so I could enjoy the rest of my evening at home. So for the next few hours, I spent time in my office to finish my bookwork. By quarter to five, I dismissed Tori and Sean, sending them home, and walked up front to start closing up. Nearly tripping over my feet, I was shocked to see Jolly was still sitting in his booth. 

“You’re still here?” I asked, coming to a stop in front of his table. 

He shrugged while closing his laptop. “I know the shop is closing soon and wanted to make sure you’re fine closing up by yourself.” 

I quickly shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Jolly. It’ll be a while before I’m ready to leave and I can’t ask you to stay around and wait for me,” 

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” he smiled while rising from the table, and going about to help me clean up. 

We worked in silence as I shut down the machines and when I was shutting off the lights, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, I let Jolly lead me out the front door so I could lock it, not before setting the alarm. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” Jolly asked. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I bit my lip and nodded. 

The setting sun cast him in an orange hue, with pinks, and purples emanating from behind him and I sucked in a breath and how gorgeous he looked. We began walking step by step to the back alley where I parked my car, Jolly’s fingers grazing over mine and it was just enough contact to make my heart hammer loud and hard in my chest. 

“Your friends seem really nice,” I said, finally breaking the silence, as we came to a stop in front of my car. 

Jolly smiled. “They are. I love them, they’re my family.” 

My lips pulled in a tight line. “It must be a nice thing to have. I’m the only family I have here.”

He picked up on the way my voice faltered with my words but didn’t want to press the issue. Instead, he lifted a hand to brush away a strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers were on the side of my neck and I let my eyes flutter shut at the feeling. 

“You’re welcome anytime with us, Astrid,” Jolly’s voice was hushed. 

Now his fingers were wrapped behind my neck to tilt my head up towards him. Opening my eyes, I sucked in a breath at how close his lips were to mine, his warm breath fanning over my bottom lip. 

“I’d like that,” I admitted with my bottom lip caught between my teeth. 

His eyes scanned my face. “We’re having a small party tomorrow night. A little housewarming thing. I’d love it if you’d come.” 

We were so close now, that I could almost taste his lips.

“You would?” I questioned. 

Jolly eyes told me his answer before his words did. “Definitely.” 

When I first opened Fika, I told myself not to fall into bed with the first handsome customer I met because it could spell disaster if things went sour. I needed to focus on my business, not let a pair of dark almond eyes distract me. And yet, here I was sinking further deeper into the abyss of those eyes. 

“Sure, I’ll be there,” I said while my hand gently played with the strings of his sweater. 

One of his hands was still grasped behind my neck while his other rested on my hip. “Käraste, kan jag kyssa dig?”

I blinked up at him, confusion etched on my features, and I shook my head in his grasp. “What did you say?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Jolly’s voice dropped to a dangerously low level and it made my insides burn. My stomach flipped a few times over as he repeated the question in Sweden again and throwing out all the negative thoughts on how this could be a bad idea, I stood on the tips of my toes to close the small distance between us finally. 

His lips were warm with the bitterness of his coffee but the sweetness of the kanelbullars. At first, we stood frozen, unsure who would make the next move, but soon Jolly’s tongue brushed against my bottom lip in a way to ask permission; one I immediately granted. His tongue glided over mine and it swallowed my moans when Jolly walked me back against my car, locking me in place with his hips. 

What started as a slow, passionate kiss, suddenly became one with force. Teeth scraped against each other before biting into the flesh of lips, hands grasping at anything they could touch. Jolly's mouth never left mine as he focused solely on making every one of my senses ignite with a blaze that shot straight to my core. He held me in place with his large hands on my lower back while I ran my hands through the long strands of hair, reveling in the softness of them. 

His scent engulfed my senses, making me dizzy, and when I fell into him Jolly made sure to hold me tighter. I felt the hardness of his cock pressed against my clit and dropped my head back against the car to let out a moan, one he quickly hushed by finding my lips again; almost as if he didn't want to let them go. 

To let me go. 

“Astrid,” he muttered against them, pressing his hips into me once again. 

I was nearing release by his kiss and the gentle brush of his cock against me. My body was sensitive to his touch as rough fingers dragged down the sides of my face to pull me closer to him. Our tongues danced together in perfect harmony and I nipped then sucked on his bottom lip just before he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. 

“Woah,” I whispered while bringing my fingers to my lips. 

Jolly brushed his mouth over them in a feathery peck. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” 

I giggled while wrapping my arms around his back. “I’m glad we feel the same.” 

We began to lead towards each other for another kiss but were interrupted by my phone going off. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Jolly to grab my phone from my purse, only to stare down at it with puzzled eyes. 

“Everything alright?” Jolly asked while brushing a finger over my cheek. 

I smiled into his touch and nodded. “Yeah. It seems like the cafe’s alarm is going off.” 

With quick fingers, I disarmed the alarm from the app on my phone and then gazed up at him. His cheeks were flushed still from our kiss and his eyes were pure black now, pupils blown wide from his own desires. 

Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to jump into the backseat of my car with him. Ride out the now fading high against his thigh. 

Shaking my head at the thought, I motioned towards the cafe. “I should go check it out. Just in case.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s alright. I probably didn’t pull the door shut all the way so the sensor tripped. But I will see you tomorrow night?” 

Jolly’s eyes lit up. “Of course. I’ll be busy helping the guys set up for the party so I might not make it in for my coffee.” 

I made a show of rolling my eyes. “How will I ever survive without you?” 

The corner of his mouth lifted with a smirk. “I’ll send you the address. Can you let me know everything is fine with the alarm then once you're home?” 

My heart jumped into my throat at his request. “Of course. Do you need me to bring anything tomorrow?” 

Jolly brought my hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “Just you, käraste.”

CONTINUE TO PART TWO HERE

[darkersoul]

The Yellow Phantom (1924) is a notable yet obscure German expressionist film, produced mainly in Weimar-era Berlin. The film's director is unknown, having been produced by an independet filmaker seemingly with minimal interaction with any production company. The final release did not include the director's name in the credits.

Despite its small production, the film makes use of impressive sets and special effects to create its dreamlike atmosphere. For instance, during the infamous masquerade scene which closes the film's first act, the titular Yellow Phantom is subtly lifted from the floor, giving the appearance of a spirit gliding just above the ground.

However, it is mainly known not for its sets and practical effects, but its early use of color. Only used sparingly, the color yellow is used throughout the film to represent decadence and decay. How this coloring was achieved is unknown, as the film's visionary production designer was tragically killed in a house fire shortly after its premier. Many of the film's actors and actresses have either met similar fates, or publicly disavowed the film.

Only the first act (of two) remains possible to view today. Much of this is due to suppression by Nazi censors. The film was seen as an affront to every one of the Reich's sensibilities. Meanwhile, in its American release, it was criticized for perceived communist and anti-Christian rhetoric. This is despite heavy cuts made even before its premier in the states.

One scene that has remained viewable to this day is known as "Cassilda's Song." It is the only known musical aspect of the piece. In some showings, singers would be paid to perform it alongside the film and the live orchestra. In this scene, the Princess Cassilda of Yhtill lies on a grand piano, which plays despite no player. She lies limp, her head crooked to the side. She looks almost as if dead. The only motion is her mouth, mumbling the song, and twin suns slowly rising in the bay window behind her.

Efforts to find and restore the film's second act are ongoing, but chances seem slim. What we do know about the missing half is that it contains much of the objectionable content which led to the film's censure. Reviews at the time suggest a powerful message conveyed in this act through, as one German critic put, "the most beautiful, truthful use of symbolism put to film." The second act reprtedly ramps up the dreamlike atmosphere of the first.

Maybe, one day, we'll see this forgotten masterpiece restored to its former glory.

[megamindsupremacy]

Misc PJO Fic Recs (Part 4)

The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

-

Baby Blofis College Fund by zipadeea

Valerie calls her an hour later.

“Sally, what the hell?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?”

***

In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

-

to bet on losing dogs by furnaceglow

The thing is,” Apollo said, the coolest prisoner of war in all of time. Prometheus wasn't prone to jealousy, but even he felt a drop of envy at how relaxed Apollo was in maximum security. "How to define a man…are we talking ontology here? That’s broad scope, bigger picture. We can include ourselves in that definition. Philosophy otherwise! Our good man Diogenes. You remember Diogenes! Or are we specifically talking about man for the sake of man? Is this about anthropology, is what I’m saying.” “I’m open to all interpretation,” Prometheus said. “Been a while since I’ve had good conversationalists here. Krios is all grunting, and Hyperion is solely interested in making his quarters nicer.” “Well, he has an eye for interior design, I’ll give him that,” Apollo said.

In which Percy Jackson ascends to a reluctant godhood, his mother loses the war but wins a battle, and for once, Prometheus picks the winning horse.

-

and if your eyes don't speak by Pixelfun20

Estelle Jackson is seven years old when she meets her nephew for the first time, over a grainy Facetime call.

OR

Estelle grew up with stories of Percy Jackson, but it takes meeting his son to realize who he really was.

-

the carriage held but just ourselves by Writeous

The official story is this: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, just two months shy of their seventh wedding anniversary, hurtle off a cliff on a lonely mountain road. A tragic accident, a sharp turn taken too quickly. Their 2023 Prius was found buried under debris, three hundred feet below where witnesses claim they fell. Paramedics declared them dead upon arrival, suffering blunt force trauma as their car collapsed with them inside.

The real story is this: Percy and Annabeth watch as Hecate’s children create perfect duplicates of them that are promptly hurled off a cliff. Percy loved that Prius.

(Or: at the end of the Titan War, Zeus offered Percy immortality. Percy was mistaken in thinking it was an actual choice.)

-

Dawn Rises From The East by TsarinaTorment

During the Battle of Manhattan, Michael Yew fell into the East River; his body was never found. Two years later, a homeless kid known only as Ferret has a chance encounter that changes everything he knows.

-

Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145

Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit.

Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries.

Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.

-

is it really a crime if you don't exist? by MidnightBunny

"So, what you're saying is," Percy said, staring at the man in front of him. "you're me from the future."

The man took a drink out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Yup."

"And you're here," Percy said slowly. "Because Annabeth's brother's boyfriend is trying to prove the existence of the multiverse."

The man nodded.

"And you got sucked in when he turned it on."

Nod.

"And now you don't know how to get home."

Nod.

"And how did you get sucked in, again?"

The man mumbled something.

"What?"

"I was coming back from the bathroom and opened the wrong door."

-

(I'm so excited this one is back y'all, the author privated all her works but just unprivated them a few weeks back so now I'm recommending you read all of her stuff, especially this fic)

Son of Sea Foam by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

“She’ll never claim me,” he whispered. Silena shook her head, eyes wild as she looked around for anyone who could be watching.

“My mother doesn’t remember half of her children as it is,” she said with a note of bitterness. “If you do something to impress her, it won’t matter. Return the bolt in her name. She’ll claim you if you act the part. If you stay unclaimed then they'll figure out what you really are," she said, squeezing his hands tightly. Percy's heart sped up.

"I - I don't know the first thing about Aphrodite-"

"My mother was born of sea foam," Silena cut him off. "And if you're really who I think you are... you are the sea. You can pull this off," she said and touched his cheek. "Get the bolt. Survive," she said. Percy swallowed.

"What if I can't act the part?" He asked. Silena's expression went blank for a moment. Slowly, she slipped off her bracelet and placed it in his hands.

"If you're going to be one of us... you better learn."

Or

AU where Percy has to hide the fact he's a Big Three kid otherwise he'll be killed on the spot. Unfortunately for him, unclaimed kids tend to raise the most suspicion... but he might have found a loophole in the form of Aphrodite.

-

This fic on tumblr that’s one of the best PJO fics I’ve ever read

[aimeedaisies]

Princess Anne visit reveals how UK-Norway alliance helped to stop Nazis building atomic bomb

Royal trip highlights secret operation where a Norwegian team infiltrated a hydroelectic plant used by Germans to make ‘heavy water’

Hannah Furness, Royal Editor, 26 May 2024, 5:13pm

Princess Anne visits the Home Front Museum in Oslo CREDIT: Per Ole Hagen/Getty Images

The Princess Royal has visited the site of a secret operation to stop the Nazi atomic bomb in Norway as she celebrated the “very special people involved” in the country’s wartime relationship with the UK.

The Princess spent two days in Norway, with a visit to the site of the little-known Operation Gunnerside where she laid flowers at the memorial.

The Second World War operation in 1943 saw a Norwegian team dropped by parachute to infiltrate a hydroelectric plant where the Nazis were developing “heavy water” to build an atomic bomb.

They destroyed the containers, escaping on skis for the 200 miles to Sweden, with the Special Operations Executive (SOE) action later considered the most successful sabotage of the war.

Soon afterwards, German forces attempted to move the remaining supplies of heavy water, which were used to create a heavy hydrogen isotope to use as a moderator in nuclear reactors, by ferry the Hydro. It was sunk by a resistance bomb with passengers including Norwegian families on board.

During her visit, the Princess met a senior local police officer who had a relative who survived the Hydro sinking, as well as members of the Norwegian armed forces.

The royal visit was intended to raise public awareness of the operation, and was arranged by John Andrews and Dr Tony Insall, the British author of Secret Alliances: Special Operations and Intelligence in Norway 1940-1945.

In a speech at the Industrial Workers Museum in Vemork, where there is a memorial to Operation Gunnerside, Princess Anne said: “There is always more that can be done to remind future generations just how remarkable the wartime relationship between our two countries was and the very special people involved.”

The Princess, who is patron of the Anglo-Norwegian Resistance Commemoration Project, went on to launch a competition to select a Norwegian sculptor to create a statue to “commemorate the bravery of those Norwegians and British who risked their lives in the campaign to restore freedom in Norway”.

Previously she had met Joachim Rønneberg, a leading figure of the Norwegian resistance, and members of the Linge Company, a Norwegian unit of the SOE.

“I know, from having spoken to Joachim and others, just how important Op Gunnerside was in disrupting the supply of heavy water to the Germans and helping to prevent Germany from acquiring atomic weapons,” said the Princess.

“But success came at a cost, and we remember the tragic loss of life of both commandos and air crew involved in Op Freshman, the first attempt to sabotage the plant which sadly failed.

“We remember also those who died later on the Hydro ferry. The building we are standing in today and the displays in the main museum are a wonderful tribute to those brave men and those who helped them who risked everything.”

Writing about the visit, Dr Insall and Mr Andrews said: “At the end of World War Two neither the British nor Norwegian governments made any public acknowledgement of the close cooperation between SIS [Secret Intelligent Services] and SOE, and the Norwegian resistance groups, the Linge Company and Milorg.

“This was unfortunate given the significant contribution of their work to the Allied war effort but was due to the secrecy surrounding British intelligence operations.

“The situation has now changed, and it has become possible to acknowledge the extent of the remarkable achievements on which Britain and Norway cooperated.”