#poetry slam au

[coffyao]

Poet in the shadow

link to my a03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaloopsyland

---

summary: you are drawn by enigmatic poet, shikamaru naru.

Here's the link to the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/50UCezNCKemq7EBFvLgwei?si=_bjXvGw5Q8mT3cw3Zi6vVA

_________

as of recently, a beer hadn't been quite enough to sully my mounting stress at work. Having to kiss the feet of my sanctimonious managers made me physically ill.

so, a friend decided to introduce me to the likes of jazz.

they were walking in the nightly streets of tokyo, searching for a new habit to get addicted to.

been there.

done that.

it was time for another thrill, an outlet for the forced submission that we put through every time we walked into our dreaded offices. condescending glares. venomous workplace gossip. the old that has been gotten used to.

they had found the poster by mere chance, plastered across the front of a ramen shop. its name was striking, and it's silhouette sparked intrigue. who was it that took that shape? was it a real person? or was it just a bold choice of design…

well, I was always receptive to trying new things.

Friday rolls around pretty quickly; I spent that week with my head in the clouds. what was always dry in my life became an enriching oasis upon discovery of the event.

and upon arrival; instantaneous ambiance. the grinding of coffee beans smelt like nostalgia to my nose, and the faint melody of piano keys was evocative to my childhood dreams; a place where I searched for a belonging. the brassy, slow sound of a trombone played, with hums of soft guitar in the background.

the spotlight at the front shimmered golden yellow; it must of been the spot where words that sounded like magic took place. black, round tables were spread throughout the room and when we sat on our own; lavender, incense sticks enlightened my senses - it was all in preparation for a thought-provoking night.

the stage was in place; whispers were in session, and the performance started. distinct voices that had their own story to tell; some painfully relatable, and some out-of-reach; I could empathise but I couldn't understand. I barely touched the soft drinks they were serving for newcomers; I was glued to the symphony.

just as I about to glaze the glass for a sip....

then came the last guest.

slouched shoulders, and hands in pocket, he lazily strided to the stage, like he was at a place he didn't want to be; but had to be. his hair was tied into a ponytail, and his navy blue sleeves were rolled above his elbows, revealing identical shadow-like tattoos that wrapped around his arms.

there was no introduction.

he coolly looked at the audience, and he began to speak his piece in a husky, murmury voice.

sometimes - its the little things

he pauses.

the little things that quieten -

the chaos in your head

the little things

let it be overflowing

its as simple as

making your bed

at 7am in the morning

sit by the windowsill

let that glare of sunlight

be your start over mode -

an extra sugar

in your coffee mug

will be your energiser

look up at the sky

and turn into a cloud

dissipate when

your worries consume you

and come back

when you feel plentiful again

see -

its the little things

that complete an incomplete day

let it follow you...

he paused.

"...but easier said than done, huh?" he added.

Soon after, a cascade of claps followed and he sheepishly nodded his head, before disappearing into the curtains.

he was a stream of water; I was a fish following his stream.

I decided I was gonna take it to the end.

-

The next week meandered tediously; from the same micromanaging, lack of tact and respect, there was one line that I kept with me.

"it's the little things."

That meant when i was yelled at, I instead savoured the three sugars that sunk inside my coffee; it also meant that when I woke up in the morning, I actually looked forward to washing the dishes...

No, never mind. I still hate that part.

----------

Let me start off by saying

Im not a advocate of nicotine

and i'll never be your endorser

but I'll admit it

as soon as I take a puff or two

I'm floating in the air

hands up

like i don't really care

the world disappears

when I inhale and exhale

any argument, any deadline

it all fades

it becomes grey

the troublesome things

they temporarily go away

I'll like to encapsulate myself

in nothing but smoke

smoke, I smoke

Not all the time

only when I rather

revisit my mentor

his name is peace

He's the reason why

I stick to his training regime

it's free-form

Its free -

just like me

It feels like me...

"...but if you start smoking, don't say you got the inspiration from me, alright?" He shrugged, before revealing a slight, playful smirk.

without fail, I had been to his performances for about a month, his alcohol-infused words soaking through my skin. My friend still attended with me, but they likened the slam poetry to extra background noise; they mostly came for the drinks and mellowed out crowd.

so, there was me.

I only knew his name as shikamaru.

shikamaru….

there was a blank.

"why do you only drink iced water?"

"...I don't wanna order anything else."

______________________________________________________________

🔍 Search: shikamaru poetry café ⌛ Loading...

📍 The Hidden

https://www.thehidden.jp Looking to catch a break from adulthood woes? The Hidden is a jazz and poetry café, known for it's soul, drinks and words that keep you floating...

_

Meet the poets

Sai - an elusive poet that takes you by surprise. don't judge by a book by it's cover.

Aina Ito - her outlook on life is brighter than the glare of a sun. don't shy away from it.

Shikamaru - like a cloud, he comes and he goes. do as he says, not what he chooses to do.

Kenta Arimoto - sharp, quick and unpredictable. whiplash is forever in effect.

______________________________________________________________

🔍 Search: shikamaru ⌛ Loading...

📍 The Hidden

https://www.thehidden.jp > meet the poets

Shikamaru - like a cloud, he comes and he goes. do as he says, not what he chooses to do.

No results found.

______________________________________________________________

🔍 Search:  shikamaru its the little things ⌛ Loading...

No results found.

did you mean: shikamaru it's the little things

______________________________________________________________

🔍 Search: shikamaru performs poetry the hidden ⌛ Loading...

📍 The Hidden

https://www.thehidden.jp Looking to catch a break from adulthood woes? The Hidden is a jazz and poetry café, known for its soul, drinks, and words that keep you floating...

📍 Niconico

10k views . 6 years ago

@shikamaru the hidden live performs

______________________________________________________________

after extensive browsing, the only other thing that came up was a 30-second blurry recording of him on stage. I could make out a younger version of him, his hair loose with a few helix piercings hanging on both ears. he sported a much more delinquent look, but his detached, sophisticated way of speaking remained.

im not really the type

to be sentimental

but i have a confession

treat it as a one-off throwaway

think of it but don't dwell on it

its a reminder

a reflection

of the things that can come and go...

---

however, the one thing that was different about him in that clip was that he had...

an emotional edge.

the impact of whatever it was that was made on him took the shape of his voice, rather than him making that shape himself.

he must of been in his most vulnerable form.

so, I ended my search. there was nothing more to see.

I continued to go as usual, without any expectations that our parasocial relationship would go anywhere.

I was just an attendee.

--

there's nothing wrong with

being stuck in traffic

that is

stagnant, slow, frustrating...

when everything moves pass you

seemingly effortlessly

as you stare at yourself

unmoving and unchanging

but is a ripple just a ripple?

you might say so but..

_

however, on one uneventful night, I discovered a podcast. I wasn't searching for it in particular...

but the name resembled a figure that I knew.

I put my headphones on, and tuned into the world of who might be who I think it is...

[INTRO] [soft jazzy r&b plays in the background, chairs start shuffling and then-]

[REDACTED]:

*clears throat* good midnight everybody, the moon and stars are up and bright, and if your still up with the cows, then welcome to the 2nd episode of in the shadow.

[pause]

My name is redacted, and we are about to kick some vibes off with someone as transparent and elusive as a smokescreen - he's here and then he isn't -

SHIKAMARU:

hey...redacted. the audience gets it now, alright?

[REDACTED]:

...can't a guy build up a suspenseful introduction for his own guest? well anyways...

[pause]

now introducing, shikamaru!

SHIKAMARU:

thanks man, I appreciate it...

[REDACTED]:

nice - now I've got a few questions for you...one or two just a tad close for comfort but the rest, a breeze. I'm telling you this now so at least you know...

SHIKAMARU:

if you wanted to warn me in advance, you could of done it by email.

[REDACTED]:

shikamaru. its called the element of surprise...it wouldn't be spontaneous if I told you before hand, right?

SHIKAMARU:

hm. I don't mind spontaneity from time to time but...

[REDACTED]:

but?

SHIKAMARU:

never mind. let's hear the first question.

[REDACTED]:

gotcha. now, don't worry - we are starting off light and easy. bit nosy? sure. but I really want to know this....what is your day job?

SHIKAMARU:

do you really want to know? it's quite mundane...

[REDACTED]:

that's why I'm asking you. i want to know if your day role wildly differs from the genius poet you portray at night...

SHIKAMARU:

huh. really tryna drive the point home with the hyperboles?

[REDACTED]:

so? your answer?

SHIKAMARU:

planning analyst. I handle data, finances....

[REDACTED]:

oh. that sounds boring.

SHIKAMARU:

*chuckles dryly* i don't disagree with you. but it gives me that sense of stability - when I'm at home I have all the free time to overthink...but in the most productive way.

[REDACTED]:

so your saying that your job is the reason why your so...introspective?

SHIKAMARU:

...in a way. it means I don't have to stress about the unnecessary, and I can live as peacefully as I need to.

[REDACTED]:

yeah, yeah. which actually brings me to my next question...

[pause]

[REDACTED]:

what is it that inspires you to write? Why do you find it to be the most productive way to spend your time?

SHIKAMARU:

hmm. That depends on what kind of answer you want.

[REDACTED]:

Hey, don't put it all on me to decide. You can be as transparent as you want...or stick to your usual formula and keep the details vague.

SHIKAMARU:

you know I don't like making decisions. its troublesome.

[REDACTED]

say whatever you need to say.

SHIKAMARU:

…well. in terms of inspiration…

[pause]

its not really it. but moreso, someone.

[REDACTED]:

oh? and who is that someone? is it a old flame, maybe a teacher..

SHIKAMARU:

…just someone.

[pause]

he was a heavy smoker. he told me not to copy him but…

[REDACTED]:

but?

SHIKAMARU:

if you indoctrinate someone to follow a certain set of beliefs, chances are, you might turn into them.

[REDACTED]:

....wow.

[pause]

haha wow. now isn't that such a shikamaru response?

SHIKAMARU:

if you say so...

_____

I took my headphones off, feeling as if I discovered something innate within myself.

I went into my drawer, picking up a pen and a notepad -

and I put the pen to paper, ink bleeding through as my thoughts overridden on top of each other -

my new poem was…

__

"...here," I said, the newly inked paper trembling within my hand.

I never meant to caught him a time such as this - where he held a cigarette between two fingers, hair untied and casually leaned against a brick wall.

I originally wanted to give to him as soon as his set finished and he still felt unreachable. however, I lost him within all the noise of people.

by the time I went outside as I was too nervous....to ask to see him backstage he was already undressed. no longer a enigma.

he glanced at it, slowly inhaling and exhaling until the ember became dim and lifeless.

"...did you write something?" he croaked, his veering between seemingly indifferent and a little curious.

"...yeah."

that was all I could say.

he took the piece from my hand, eying me up and down once and only once. he nodded in approval.

"cool. write more," he muttered, before sliding the piece into his pocket.

'its the little things...'

I nodded back.

then, I left.

-

[wolfythewitch]

Hi, I love your fantasy AU. If Melanie is a bard, did she invent the rock genre (or the medieval version of it)?

Hmm not sure! I like to think she does whatever the equivalent of slam poetry is, very oral epics esque

[edamameimei]

Perhaps, Even This (Megan Skiendiel x Reader SMAU)

“what a joy, perhaps, to remember even this.”

A year ago, you were known as your friend group’s “sunshine.” You were able to light up a whole room with your energy and everyone could rely on you for your quick wit and easy humor. You lived life simply one day at a time. However, seemingly out of nowhere, that all changes. Now a Junior in university, you find it extremely difficult to do all the things you used to do. Especially being the Resident Assistant for the Geffen Dorms. New residents begin to move in and one them is a girl you could only describe as “radiant." Her name is Megan Skiendiel, and at first, you don’t welcome the positivity but as you two continue to meet and hang out, you find yourself becoming the person you used to be. Will you be able to be that person you were a year ago? Or will everything just stay the same?

tws: kms/kys jokes. this story will dive into topics such as depression, anxiety, reckless substance use, and toxic relationships. if any of those things affect you in any negative way, please do not interact with this story!! take care of yourself!!

tags: smau, crack, fluff, will get pretty angsty at times. university!au, golden retriever!megan x black cat!reader, sexual jokes, lots of swearing, future suggestive themes.

feat: katseye, txt, lesserafim, ive + more to come!

pairing: megan skiendiel x gn!reader

status: on going!

notes: this smau is not a REAL portrayal of the people in this fic and are not based on any real-life events. this was made for entertainment purposes. some idols’ ages were changed for the plot. all pics are from pinterest! dividers were made by me in canva pro!

profiles: hybe crashouts 1 2 dream academy alumni 1 2

chapters:

00. prologue (written)

01. reinforcements

02. roommates to lovers

03. the duet (half written)

04. omg slut!

05. AA meeting

06. mad respect

07. dumb question

08. floor meeting

09. turtles

10. homewrecker

11. picasso

12. hallelujah or whatever

13. u care

14. sounds good (half written)

15. the pigeon

16. poetry slam

17. oh! nice!

18. nonchalant mfer

19. losers r us

20. lambda

more to come...

[z0mbugs]

i bet his ass attends poetry slams

(from @ theertceps ‘s prog rock au on twitter)

[betterluucii]

This and consider

For modern day venlumi

Venlumiest song to ever venlumi

TRUST

I'll make an animatic someday

that someday is far but for venlumi I will prevail

[automaticllamacycle]

I’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands)

Summary: You don't have much experience. Matty, however, does. A coffee shop AU.

Part one of two

Content: 18+, fingering, praise kink, hand jobs, first time, smut with plot

Word count: 11,059

It's not like you wanted to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. That was definitely not the goal. However, years went by, and no boyfriend was in sight. That is, until Matty entered the picture.

You met him at a coffee shop, the one you worked at. He caught your eye the moment he walked in during one of your shifts. It was cold and dreary, a typical December day in London, but you could still spot chocolate curls sticking out of a worn beanie. Wrapped in a thick knit sweater layered under a jacket, he placed his order.

"Hello, can I get a medium dark roast with a splash of soy milk?"

His thick Manchester accent piqued your curiosity, and so did his warm brown eyes. You tried not to stumble over your next words, sticking to your usual script.

"You got it. Can I get a name for the order?"

"Matty." He responded.

From then on, you saw him often. There wasn't a week that went by that you didn't see Matty at least once. Every time was the same. He would walk in with his gorgeous curls and pretty face and order the exact same thing, a medium dark roast with a splash of soy milk. His order became like second nature to you. When he walked in, almost a month after the first encounter, you were quick to speak.

"Still a medium dark roast with a splash of soy milk?" you asked, probably a little more nervous than you should have been. He had that effect on you every time he stepped through the doors. One glance with those brown eyes was all it took to make you shy.

"Oh, yeah that's it, thank you," he responded, with a quick smile. A smile you hadn't seen yet. A very cute smile.

Once you finished making the coffee, you called out the order, and he walked to the counter.

"Here's that coffee for you, Matty."

You'd thought that would be the end of the conversation, and he would walk right back out with a "thanks" like he always did. However, this time, he had something else to say.

"Thanks. You know, you already know my name, but I still don't know yours. That's bad manners on my part," he added with a chuckle.

A little caught off guard, you breathed out your name, sounding less than confident. It had been so long since someone took away your breath like that, and he seemed to be doing it every time he spoke.

"That's a lovely name. I'll see you around." he said with that same grin, and then strolled off with his coffee before you had the chance to say anything else.

—

It's fair enough to say after the most recent exchange, he took up way too many of your thoughts. You tried to convince yourself it was just a work crush, a normal work crush. He was a super cute so that's only a normal response, right? It's not like you would try to get anywhere else with him, anyway. Probably wouldn't work out even if you did try.

Well, the crush became ten times worse on open mic night at the coffee shop. Your coworker, Penny, begged you to switch shifts with her, some kind of emergency, so there you were. Typically, open mic nights were filled with out of tune guitars, pitchy voices, and slam poetry. Everyone at the shop avoided working on open mic nights.

Now, what you didn't expect was for Matty to walk in the doors with a guitar case in hand. His hair was more styled than usual. His normal curls were a bit frizzy and all over the place, but tonight his curls were well defined. He had on a knit patterned sweater, which was typical for him, and a black pair of trousers accompanied by black combat boots.

Oh God, this is about to be either really good or really bad for the state of my crush on this man, you thought to yourself. Nothing better than a man with curly brown hair that could sing and play the guitar.

He didn't approach the counter this time. Instead, deciding to sit at one of the tables and listen to the other acts. You watched him for a moment, but then went back to work. Before you could hear what Matty prepared for open mic night, you had to endure the other performers.

You weren't one to judge others for their creative expression, but they were so horrid. There were some decent ones in the bunch, thankfully. One guy played a cover song on piano, and it wasn't half bad. Most of the night was filled with a cappella covers and shallow slam poetry, though.

The moment you were eagerly waiting for finally arrived, and Matty grabbed his guitar case and took the stage. Waiting for it to be his turn was the longest hour of your life. He sat the case down on the small stage set up and opened it up. He fumbled with the guitar a bit while he sat down on the stool in front of the microphone. Nerves flashed through his eyes. They were evident by his hands slightly shaking as he adjusted the microphone closer to his lips. You were the only one watching his hands close enough to notice, anyway.

"Hello, I'm Matty," he spoke into the microphone, voice confident and smooth despite the nerves. "I'm a part of a band called The 1975, and I will be singing one of our songs called ‘Chocolate’.”

When he started to sing, what struck you first was the heaviness of his accent on the words he spoke. Even for a Manchester accent, it was thick on every syllable he sang, close to unintelligible at times. What struck you next was the fact that he was genuinely a great singer. His vocals and guitar skills were far too good for him to be playing in a random coffee shop among the mediocre slam poets and cover artists. Yep, this was only going to make your work crush worse.

Your eyes locked with his brown ones multiple times while he sang. With his eyes shining in the lights, a smile stretched across his face, and you returned it. He completely captured your attention for the entire duration of the song without trying. It was like you couldn't look away, even if you wanted to. When he finished singing, his performance elicited far more applause than open mic acts usually do. It wasn't typical for someone with serious talent to play at open mic, and the coffee shop patrons could spot the talent, too. Tearing your eyes from him, you went back to work. You didn't expect him to approach you at the counter after putting his guitar back into its case and leaving the stage, but Matty seemed to be surprising you a lot these days.

"Hey there," you said, beating him to the conversation, just as he reached the counter. "Your song was great. It's not every day that someone actually good plays here. I had no idea you were in a band."

"You can say it was shit, I won't be offended. I'm terrible at guitar," he states, rather bluntly. "But yeah, I've been in a band with a few of my mates for quite a few years now."

"Oh, if it was shit I would be sure to let you know," you added with a laugh. "Seriously, it was good. Now, can I get your usual started for you?"

"Actually no, not this time. I think it's a bit too late for me to be drinking coffee or I'll be too wired to sleep."

He had a point; it was around nine at this point. The shop would be closing within the hour. You continued, even though talking is not a strong suit of yours.

"So then, what can I do for you, Matty?"

"Since you asked, I do have a question for you," he responded promptly like he had been waiting for the moment to ask.

You quipped back, "And what might that be?" He seemed jittery, almost like how he was on the stage.

"I was wondering if I could get your number and take you out sometime. Maybe meet for coffee right here if you'd like?" His hands fidgeted on the counter as he asked.

Oh, he's asking you out, act natural, you thought to yourself. While it was common for customers to try and get your number, the interest was never reciprocated on your end. This time, the interest was definitely mutual.

"Yeah sure, that sounds like a lovely idea," you responded with a grin, reading off your number to him while he put it in his phone.

"I'll be texting you," he says while putting his phone back into the pocket of his pants. "See you soon."

Once again, he walked away, guitar case in hand. However, this time, the smile on his face was a little bigger than before, and so was the smile on yours.

—

After cleaning all the equipment and making sure everything was in order for the morning shift, you closed up the shop for the night. You resisted the urge to check your phone every single moment on the walk back to your apartment. The walk was already a short one, but the pep in your step made it even faster. When you walked through the door of your apartment, your dog Socks ran up to greet you. After you got her food bowl and fed her, it wasn't long before a text from an unmarked number buzzed on your phone.

Hey, it's Matty. You free anytime this week to meet for coffee?

You weighed the options of waiting a few minutes to not seem too eager or responding immediately, and the latter option won by a long shot.

Yeah I'm free Wednesday around 11:00 if that works for you?

He responded pretty quickly, too. Good to know it wasn't just you being eager.

That works well for me! I'll see you then :)

You responded once more.

See you then :))

You put down your phone on the coffee table with a huge grin across your face. You went ahead and finished your nighttime routine, washing your face and brushing your teeth. When you laid your head down on the pillow you couldn't get your mind off of Matty. The thought of his voice, his face, his mouth, and his hands slowly drifted you off to sleep.

—

The days went by entirely too fast and entirely too slow all at the same time. Before you knew it, it was Tuesday night. By 10:00pm, you had already ransacked your closet for something to wear, pulling out every article of clothing you owned. The pre-date anxiety wasn't helping you make up your mind. When 1:00am rolled around, you finally settled on an outfit, your favorite pair of jeans and a turtleneck sweater. Way too simple of an outfit for how long it took to pick out, but oh well. Finally, you crawled into bed, glaring at the clock on your nightstand. The numbers mocked your decision of staying up so late. You had an early shift tomorrow that would end a few minutes before the time you were meeting Matty. You had rationalized this choice in the moment before texting him. It would be better for you to already be there, and would probably lessen your anxiety, if only a little bit.

The alarm clock rang, and you hated everything. Still, you got up, put on your outfit, and finished getting ready. You kept the makeup light and styled your hair to the best of your ability. There was only so much that could be done at five in the morning. You fed Socks and gave her a pet before heading out. Once you walked out the door, the nerves weighed heavy on your chest, but you couldn't back out now.

Reaching the coffee shop, you put on a sarcastic cheery voice and greeted your two coworkers, Penny and Grady.

"Good morning, guys! Isn't it just beautiful to be up before the sun?" They groaned in unison. Tough crowd. "Well, I have something very important to tell you two. I have a date today."

"Oh my God, I never thought this day would come," Penny gasped, only half joking.

"Hey! Don't be rude! It's not like you've had much luck in the boy department either."

"Okay, stop bickering. Now, who's the man in question?" asked Grady.

"So, you know that guy with the curly hair that comes in at least twice a week?"

"Yes, we know, it's not like you've gawked at him for the past two months or anything," said Penny.

"He asked for my number at open mic night. Thanks for asking to switch shifts with me by the way, Penny. Can't thank you enough," you teased.

"Glad my car wreck could be of some assistance?"

You went through the motions of opening up the shop with Penny and Grady, and the place filled with customers all too soon. The hour was ticking closer and closer to when Matty would walk through the doors. You tried to calm your nerves, but the attempts were no good. When the clock read 10:50, you decided to go ahead and start his usual, ringing it up under your discount. You started on your coffee as well. Caffeine was a necessity.

The door to the shop opened, just a minute before 11:00, and you looked up to meet Matty's eyes. It had been two months since you first saw him, but his gorgeous eyes still left you dazed. Putting on a brave face, you decided to speak first.

"Hey," you began with smile on your face. "I went ahead and made your coffee," you said while handing him the cup.

"Don't I need to pay for this?" A confused look marked his face.

"Nah, I went ahead and put my discount on it." You walked out from behind the counter with your own coffee in hand towards him.

"Well, there goes my plan to pay for your coffee like a true gentleman." He said, heading towards an open table. He chose a booth beside the shop window. You sat opposite from him.

"I couldn't possibly let my discount go to waste," you insisted. "I get one coffee free per shift and everything else has a big discount. Truly, it's no trouble."

You looked at him while waiting for whatever he had to say next. He looked good, smelled good too. Has he always smelled this good? Since you were always separated by a counter from him, you hadn't been properly close enough to tell until just now. You quickly told your brain to shut up before you say something stupid. He spoke first.

"Okay, I'm going to start this off with my favorite ice breaker question. What's your favorite song?"

"That is a horrible ice breaker question. You couldn't come up with anything better? Something deeper, perhaps?"

"I'm a musician, of course I would ask a question like that. I think a person's favorite song can reveal a lot about oneself."

"I don't think I can choose just one," you continued by listing a few of your favorites. Definitely not a solid list. "So, what's yours, then?"

"Probably one I've written," he replies with a smirk.

"I feel like that's cheating, but I'll allow it. How did you get into music anyway? From what I heard before at the open mic, you're pretty good."

"My band mates are really good, I'm just average. Trust me, when I play with them it's obvious how shitty I am, especially next to my mate, Adam. He's legendary at guitar. To answer your question though, when I was younger, I always wanted to be a pop star. I was a huge fan of Michael Jackson. I started to learn a few instruments and then by the time I was in secondary school, my friends and I decided to form a band. I ended up as the singer somehow along the way."

"I should go see a gig soon, got any coming up?"

"Yeah, I think that could be arranged."

The small talk between you two continued and wasn’t painful like most small talk. You found yourself more enchanted by Matty the more he spoke. Everything he said, while usually laced with humor, was well thought out. It was clear he was a deep thinker, but any songwriter typically has to be one. You've realized in the time sitting across from him in the booth that you could sit and listen to him talk all day long. When you got around to looking at the watch on your wrist, you realized it had been over an hour and half since you two had sat down in the booth. As much as you hate it, you really need to get home and be productive with your day.

"I've had a great time talking with you Matty, but I think it's time for me to head out. I have a huge pile of laundry and a chore list that unfortunately will not do itself."

"Can I walk you home?"

"Isn't that a line you're supposed to pull out when it's dark to make sure I get home safe or something like that?"

"Oh, come on, you already bought my coffee. Let me be a gentleman for just a moment here."

"Okay fine, if you insist." The both of you stood up from the booth and he held the door for you on the way out of the shop. Penny threw you a wink while Grady gave a not-so-subtle thumbs up. You hoped he somehow didn't see them, but there was no way he couldn't have.

Matty kept you entertained on the short walk back to your apartment, telling you a funny story about his friend George. You found yourself laughing right along with him while he retold the story. You were thankful he did the heavy lifting during the conversation. It made it much easier on your part.

"Alright, this one's mine," you said, pointing to your building. "I do appreciate you walking me back, by the way, jokes aside."

"I was enjoying your company and wanted to make it last longer, what can I say?"

"It was very kind, thank you."

He kept looking at you, like he was deep in thought again. His gaze made you feel exposed. Originally, his eyes peered directly into yours, but they slowly shifted down to your mouth. As he stepped towards you, the air instantly grew thick. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

"You're not one of those girls that gets offended by getting kissed on the first date, right?" he spoke, almost in a whisper. Eyes still locked in on your lips, not looking up from them for one second. His face got closer and closer to yours.

"No, I'm not." His lips nearly brushed against your lips. The gravity becoming too much. Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his mouth.

"Good."

With that his lips met yours. Soft. Gentle. One of his hands carefully pressed into your lower back, bringing you deeper into the kiss. The other hand rested on the side of your face. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you placed them at his shoulders. He pulled away for a brief second, before leaning down once more to leave another quick kiss.

When he finally pulled away, for good this time, he had one last thing to say.

"I'll be seeing you," he said, giving you a wave and that same smile you had grown to adore before walking away.

You sat on the steps outside of your apartment for at least five minutes after the kiss. When you found it in you, you finally walked in the door and ran up the stairs to your apartment.

It's safe to say this was more than a work crush.

—

You walked in to work the next day with a beaming look on your face. Penny noticed immediately.

"Okay tell me everything from start to finish. Don't you dare leave anything out."

She didn't have to force it out of you. You were dying to tell anyone about your date at this point, so you went through every detail, including the kiss.

"Girl, he is so into you," Penny replied.

"Well, I would hope a kiss would mean he's into me. I personally don't kiss people I hate."

Work was slow that day. Not too many customers. Matty didn't walk in that day, which was probably a good thing for your sanity. He did however make his appearance once again, two days later. He walked through the doors in his usual attire, a sweater and a pair of jeans. His eyes lit up, just a little bit, when he saw you.

"Your usual, I assume?"

"Yeah, of course." A soft smile lighting up his face.

Instead of walking away from the counter like he usually did, this time he stayed right by it as you started making his coffee.

"Do you have any plans tomorrow night?"

"I think my schedule is open. You have a suggestion for me to fill it?" you said, a smirk on your face.

"My band has a gig tomorrow night; thought you'd might like to come and see it."

"Oh yeah absolutely! Give me the time and place and I'll be there." He pulled out his phone and texted you the details. It was at a small venue in downtown London.

"I won't be able to see you before the show starts but go up to security after it's over and tell them your name. They'll let you backstage."

You finished up his drink just as he finished his sentence. "Here's your coffee, Matty." You handed him the coffee. His hand brushed with yours, lingering longer than normal. Definitely on purpose. He was looking at your lips again. "I'm looking forward to seeing the show."

"And I'm looking forward to seeing you after the show." He winked and walked out the doors.

As soon as he was out of sight, Penny appeared right behind your shoulder.

"You have got to look hot for that tomorrow. I'm coming over after work to help you with your outfit."

"Where did you spawn from?"

"Oh, I was just in the back listening like any good friend would, of course!"

"I don't know if you listening is a comforting thought or a concerning one." A laugh making its way through your voice.

"Well, be thankful, because I am going to ensure you look hot."

Penny stuck to her word and walked home with you once both of your shifts ended. Right when she walked through the door of your apartment she went to the closet, completely ignoring Socks’ cries for attention.

"I think we have some things to work with here." Her hands full of clothes. She had you try on her first idea, a mini skirt with a button up blouse. Her reaction was immediate. "I mean you always look hot, but this outfit just isn't doing it for me." This went on for quite a bit.

"Penny, can you make up your damn mind before I lose my own?"

"Okay, okay, last thing. Try on this." She hands you a dress that had been laying in the back of your closet for who knows how long. It was black and had a collar alongside a V-neckline. The skirt of the dress landed at mid-thigh. Once you stepped out to show her, she nearly yelled. "Yes! That's perfect! Now time to put the other pieces together." From the large selection of shoes in your arsenal, she landed on a black pair of chunky Mary Jane style shoes.

"Is it to your liking now?" you asked.

"How about you wear these?" She held out a pair of fishnet tights.

"Penny. Absolutely not!"

"You'll look so good though, but fine, I'll accept defeat," she frowned. "Wear these instead." She handed you a pair of sheer black tights. Those you could manage with. She finished the look by gathering a few accessories. Picking out a couple of necklaces and rings. "The look is complete," she said, giving a quick bow.

"I actually really like it. You have good taste." You gave her a hug and thanked her. The two of you walked towards the door. She began to walk out before she stopped to say something.

"By the way, wear some cute underwear underneath that dress, you never know what could happen."

"PENNY! Go. Out the door, now. Bye!" You refused to let your mind go there, yet.

—

You woke up the next morning already antsy about the show that night. You tried to not think about it, but you couldn't get your mind off of it. When it was acceptable to start getting ready, you began with your makeup. Normally you went light with it, but today you decided to focus on your eyes. With a light hand you went in with a dark purple eye shadow, and then blended it out with medium tones. Next came the eyeliner, the scariest part. Keeping your hand steady as possible you drew a small wing onto both eyes. After more attempts than you care to admit, they were even. You finished the rest of the make up and went to put on the outfit.

You walked out the door and headed to the nearest train station. The venue wasn't too far, but it was far enough that you did not want to walk it, especially not in those shoes. When you made it to the venue, there was decent line to get into the place. You wouldn't have guessed the band was this popular from the way Matty talked about it. It seemed like it was nearly going to be a full house. Since Matty put your name on the guest list, you didn't have to have a ticket, very convenient.

After you were in the building, it wasn't very long before the show started. However, there was enough time for you to make it to the bar and get a drink. You'd hoped the liquid courage would come in handy later. The place was indeed packed. Since it was standing room only, you decided to stand more towards the back.

The set was fantastic. You could tell Matty was much more comfortable preforming with the band than he was by himself. Totally different stage presence compared to when he sang at the coffee shop, particularly when they played the same song "Chocolate". If there were nerves in Matty this time around, you couldn't tell. The bottle of wine in his hand while he sang likely played a role in that, though.

Once the show was over, people slowly filed out of the room, and you waited until you could make your way up to the security guard at the front. The security guard walked you backstage when you told him your name. Matty was right there when you made it backstage, engulfing you in a hug. He was sweaty and shirtless at this point, but you didn't mind. Not one bit. This was the first time you were able to see all his tattoos. He didn't seem like the type of guy to have a chest piece, but you stood corrected.

"I didn't see you out there, thought you bailed on me for a second." He joked, breaking the hug. "I'm so glad you were able to make it."

"I would have at least texted you if I wasn't able to make it. I was just in the back because I didn't feel like fighting the crowd to get closer. Speaking of which, when were you going to tell me your band was so popular?"

"I don’t think we’re that popular. People just show up when we have a gig. I don't get recognized in public that often."

"I think that's called being popular, Matty. Next time, I'll show up earlier so I can get a closer view. The set was great by the way. I'm going to have to look up the band when I get home."

"Want to meet my band mates?"

"Yeah, of course!"

His hand met your lower back as he walked you to the green room. He introduced you to his friends, Ross, George, and Adam. They teased Matty just a bit for bringing a girl to a concert. You felt your cheeks flush, and not from the alcohol from earlier. You didn't stay and talk for a long time since it was getting so late, so you said bye before following Matty out of the green room. He decided to put on a shirt by now, much to your disappointment. Once you exited the venue, Matty spoke.

"Think I could walk you home again?"

"Well, I took the train this time, I don't want you to have to go in an opposite direction just to walk me home. I'll be fine."

"I don't live too far from you, actually. About a ten-minute walk. We would probably end up taking the same train anyway."

"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"Sorry darling, but no."

"Let's start walking then."

The walk to the train station and the train ride to your apartment was filled with laughter. You were both slightly tipsy. You from the drinks at the bar, and him from the bottle of wine he kept on stage.

"So, now that you've seen the amazing Adam Hann at guitar, I think it's safe to say I am shit at guitar." Matty said, stepping off the train. You both made your way up the stairs of the station and walked towards your apartment.

"I mean he's better than you, yeah, but that doesn't mean you're shit at it. You should see me try to play sometime. It's fucking hilarious."

"I could teach you some chords. How to play ‘Wonderwall’ or something like that."

"Oh God, not ‘Wonderwall’. Anything other than that, please." He lets out a strong laugh at your comment, but you weren't wrong. ‘Wonderwall’ was so overdone.

"Alright, I'll teach you something else then. Anything you want."

You two approached the steps of your apartment, but you didn't want the night to end just yet. So, you had to think fast. "Want to come inside and meet my dog?"

"You have a dog? I love dogs. You should have told me sooner." He followed you through the doorway of the complex and up the stairs to your apartment. As soon as you opened the door, Socks ran to see you. When she saw Matty though, she was a bit confused.

"Her name is Socks by the way," you told him.

"Oh my God, what a cute name." Matty got down on his knees, held his hand out to the dog, and soon enough she warmed right up to him. You left the pair where they were and walked past them, going for Socks’ food bowl.

"Sorry to interrupt, Matty, but I have to feed her. It was too early for her to eat when I left for the concert."

"That's alright," he said, making his way over to sit on the couch. You were thankful you cleaned the place up before you left. You wanted to join him on the couch, but you had to change clothes first. Your feet were killing you and you hated the tights.

"Here's the remote for the television. Put it on whatever you want. I desperately need to change clothes. I'll be right back."

You went into your bedroom and shut the door, not noticing his eyes following you the entire way there. You changed fast, not wanting to be rude. From your dresser, you grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. Next you stepped into the bathroom adjoined to your room and washed off your makeup. When you walked back in the living room, you saw that Matty put New Girl on the television. Good choice. You took the seat next to him, leaving a bit of room in between.

You sat there and he sat there. Both absorbed by the awkward silence while the TV show played. Socks ate her food in the corner, the only sound other than the show. Matty quietly cleared his throat. Seemed like you were going to have to do the heavy lifting here.

"So..." You began, breaking the silence. "What kind of ideas do you have planned for our next date? Unless you want me to come up with something." His eyes left the television and turned to you. God, you wished his eyes didn't have such an effect on you, and the alcohol from earlier wasn't helping.

"I have plenty of ideas, just going to depend on if you want to do them," he said, a questionable look on his face. It was obvious he still had some alcohol in his system, too.

"Oh? Like what? That sounds a bit mysterious by itself."

"Well, I thought I could invite you over to my place next Saturday and cook something for you. Be all romantic and shit." The look on his face was kind and sincere. Either the alcohol made him have his guard down, or he was just comfortable with you. You couldn't tell which one for sure.

"That sounds like a good idea. I will judge your cooking skills harshly, though."

"I would have expected no less from you," he said with a small laugh. His cheeks were turning pink.

You felt the conversation begin to lull again, so you spoke. A cheeky idea in mind. "Any other plans besides cooking for me?"

"To be honest, I did not think that far ahead."

"I have an idea," you said without hesitation.

"What might that be?" His eyebrows raised and his body turned to you, awaiting your answer.

"Maybe we could do something like we're doing now?"

"Sitting on the couch while watching New Girl, struggling to make conversation?"

"No, I was thinking more along the lines of this." By the end of your sentence, you leaned in and connected your lips to his. Matty was caught off guard. You hadn't been so forward with him yet, but he was quick to kiss back. You broke away first. The both of you breathing heavy. "Sorry, probably should have asked you before I did that."

"No need to say sorry. I don't give a fuck," he replied, placing his hand on the back of your neck to pull you back in. The kiss was heated this time. His hand that was at the back of your neck went up into your hair. His other hand made its way to cup the side of your face, bringing you in closer. Both of your hands threaded through his hair. You've wanted to run your fingers through his curls since the moment you saw him.

His lips were warm and soft as they moved against yours. In an instant, his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth in response. His movements were slow as his tongue explored your mouth. As smooth as you tried to be, you trembled with nerves. You felt like you were going to explode. Matty broke away for a moment. His eyes bore into yours. Pupils wide and dilated.

"Are you alright, love? You're shaking like a leaf," he breathed. His thumb rubbing gently on your cheek.

You looked into his eyes for a moment before the eye contact became too much to bear, eyes shifting back to his wet lips. "Yeah, I'm fine." The warble in your voice didn't agree with the words you said, but you pulled him right back into the kiss. Without missing a beat, Matty continued to kiss you, becoming more eager. He moved his hands from your hair and face and relocated them to your waist. In one swift movement, he dragged you from the place next to him until you were sitting on his lap. Your knees were on either side of his hips. His hands, still on your waist, pulled you flush to his body. You tried to keep up with the movements of his lips and tongue, but your inexperience was showing. The movements of his mouth were skillful against yours. It was like he already knew all the places that would make you melt.

You were falling for him. Fast. His hands slipped under your shirt, grasping onto the skin of your hips and waist. He began to push your hips down into his, ever so slightly. You reciprocated the movement on your own, grinding your hips into his. He let out a small groan into your lips at the feeling of your movements. Part of you wanted to hear that sound again, but part of you knew this was about to go too far really quick without telling him what you knew you needed to. Somehow, the voice of reason in your head won, and you pressed lightly on his chest to break the kiss. His eyes stared into yours again, pupils wider than before. His lips red and swollen from the pressure of the kisses, chest rising underneath your hands like he couldn't catch his breath. Beneath the look of arousal on his face, he seemed worried.

"Did I do something wrong?" he breathed out, shifting his hips slightly. You could feel him under you. You were out of breath too. You really had no idea how to put it lightly, so you just said it.

"I'm a virgin." You didn't know how he was going to take that message. Men typically either didn't react well, or they thought you were something to corrupt.

"Oh." There wasn't any judgement in his voice, just a hint of surprise. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention." He gently went to move you off him, back to where you were sitting at first. He tried to subtly adjust his pants, but it wasn't all that subtle.

"No, no, you didn't make me uncomfortable at all. I promise," you assured him, hands cupping his cheeks. The worry on his face eased a bit. "I just thought I should tell you before anything went further."

"Thank you for telling me." The smile on his face returned. Thank God you, thought to yourself.

"We can keep going, if you want to?" The anxiety was right back in your voice, your moment of confidence gone.

"As much as I truly would like to..." His eyes lingered on your lips before looking you up and down. "I can't keep going knowing that you’re even a little bit tipsy. I want to make the moment special for you, really." You were more relieved than disappointed. You didn't put on cute underwear out of spite to Penny's comment yesterday, and that decision came back to bite you in the ass.

Socks had perfect timing, saving you from another moment of awkwardness by jumping onto the couch. You and Matty finished that episode of New Girl while Socks sat between you, enjoying the pets from Matty. When the episode ended, Matty had to go. It was one in the morning at this point. You got up and walked him to the door. Before he left, he grabbed your waist gently, and pulled you in for a soft goodbye kiss.

"Next Saturday at 6:00pm we are having that date at my place. I'll text you the address." With one last kiss and a smile, he walked out the door.

—

"YOU WHAT?"

"Penny, oh my God, shut up. We are at work."

"How did you expect me to react to you coming in here and telling me you and Matty dry humped on your couch last night?"

"PENNY."

"Am I wrong? Is that not exactly what you said?"

"I didn't say it like that."

"That's what I heard."

"It seems like you have selective hearing."

"I swear to God, if you don't wear cute underwear this time."

"I am not talking to you about my underwear at work, Penny."

"I'm just saying. Oh! Don't forget condoms!"

"SHUT UP!"

—

The week leading up to the next date was uneventful. Matty came in mid-week like normal. You didn't even ask if he wanted his usual and started his coffee right when he walked in the door.

"Not going to make sure my order hasn't changed? What if I've become an oat milk guy since I came in last?" He walked up to the counter with a grin on his face.

"You can't go changing up on me now, Matty."

"I would never," he laughed. "So, are we still on for Saturday?"

"Yeah, of course. What are you planning on cooking, by the way?"

"That's going to stay a surprise."

"Is that another way of saying you have no clue?" You handed him the coffee cup. His hand grazed yours.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"You still haven't given me your address."

"Oh shit, sorry," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "There. Now you’ve got it," he said with a smile on his face.

"I'm looking forward to it. Just don't give me food poisoning."

"I'll try my best."

—

Saturday rolled around fast. After rummaging through your closet yet again, you chose a simple outfit, a hoodie and a pair of jeans. Once you fed Socks, you went out the door, trying not to be overcome with nerves. The walk to his apartment was just about ten minutes, like Matty had said before, so you didn't have too much time to dwell on those nerves. Reaching his door, you gave it a quick knock, and it swung open after a moment.

"I wasn't expecting you to be early."

"Matty, I'm five minutes late."

"Fuck, you're right," he said, looking at the time on his phone. "I must have lost track of time. Come on in. I'm still cooking." You stepped through the door into Matty's apartment, and you were met with chaos in the kitchen. Seemed like he hadn't even started yet. Two big pots sat on the stove top, and multiple cans of tomato were stacked onto the counter. He stood next to the counter, wearing an apron. Very cute.

"What are you even trying to make?"

"Uh... spaghetti?"

"Do you want some help?" You didn't want to be rude, but you wanted to eat something edible tonight.

"I want to say no, but I know if I do it will be a disaster." You walked into the kitchen and stood next to him, looking at the recipe he had printed out. The kitchen wasn't big. You were practically standing hip to hip. He was staring at the recipe printed out on the counter like he had no idea where to even begin. To be fair, the recipe he picked out wasn't an easy one.

"Matty, I think you managed to pick the most complicated spaghetti recipe I have ever seen. Go ahead and start the pot of water while I work on the sauce." Matty filled the pot with water, placed it on the stove, and then turned to you, watching you start the sauce.

"Sorry. I was supposed to be the one cooking for you."

"I love to cook. It's no trouble. Next time though, go for the pre-made sauce. Making it yourself is a pain in the ass."

"I'll redeem myself next time, promise."

The rest of the cooking went smoothly, for the most part. Matty almost burned the bread, but it was salvaged before the damage could be done. The both of you filled up your bowls with the spaghetti and went to sit on the couch.

"This is really fucking good," Matty said, after eating some of the spaghetti. It was true, you outdid yourself.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh, yes, you could have."

"Boiling the pasta is a very important job, Matty." He let out a strong laugh at your reply. He then reached over to grab the remote to the television off of the coffee table and hand it to you.

"Here. As a repayment for basically cooking all of dinner, you can put on whatever you would like."

"You're giving me a lot of power here."

"Choose wisely."

You racked your brain for a moment for a good movie to put on, and then it hit you. "Oh! I have the best movie in mind." A devilish smile spread across your face.

Matty watched as you searched for the movie, until you finally landed on it. "10 Things I Hate About You? Really?"

"What? It's a classic."

"It's cheesy."

"All classics are cheesy. You're the one that gave me remote control power here."

"If it's what you want to watch, then I guess it’s alright." Matty got up for a moment as you pressed play and took the empty bowls into the kitchen to put them in the sink. When he returned, he sat right next to you on the couch. You were already nervous, and he hadn't even done anything. As the movie played, you both made small talk about certain parts of the movie.

"It may be cheesy, but Patrick serenading Kat with the school band is a cinematic masterpiece."

"Okay, maybe the movie isn't as bad as I remembered." Matty took the opportunity to stretch out his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side. With that simple movement, the movie was the last thought on your mind. All you could think about was the weight of Matty's arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. Matty turned his face towards you. His eyes locked onto yours, and his lips were mere inches apart from you. "Are you paying attention to the movie?" He shifted, eyes staring at your lips before you spoke.

"Not really." Your voice held up under the nerves.

"Me neither," he paused. His brown eyes jumping back to meet yours. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

His lips met yours. At first, they moved soft and slow against your lips. Both of his hands cupped your face, and your hands made their way around the back of his neck. You were more confident with your movements against his lips than the last time, but he still left you dazed. Your breathing picked up, desperate for more of his mouth.

When his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, the kiss intensified. He moved one of his hands from your face and threaded it through your hair, firmly holding onto the back of your head. His other hand held your hip, and you made your way onto his lap, just as you were a week ago. Matty pulled away from you, but before you had time to react his lips connected to your neck. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, pulling small gasps out of your throat. Your heart was pounding onto your rib cage. Hands trembling behind his neck.

Matty could feel the tremors in your hands. Lifting up from your neck, his eyes met yours in sincerity. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to. You're safe with me." His words calmed you, as he continued to suck on your neck. Suddenly, his lips were replaced with the graze of his teeth, making you jolt. "Is that okay?" His voice was muffled against your neck before he relocated to another spot near your collar bone.

"Mhm," you hummed in response. You didn't want to know how needy your voice would sound if you tried to speak out your answer. His lips were hot and unrelenting against your neck, leaving marks behind. His tongue ran along all the places he bit and sucked at, soothing them.

Both of his hands moved to hold your thighs that straddled his hips. Fingertips digging into them. His grip tightened as you carefully began to move against his hips. Matty broke off from your neck, looking you deep in the eyes. His hands slipped underneath your hoodie, tracing the skin underneath it. His touch on your bare skin drew a small sound from your mouth. Your skin was fiery from the contact of his fingertips. The touch was careful and hesitant, but it was clear what he wanted.

"Can I take this off?" His voice was timid and out of breath. He didn't want to go too fast.

"Yeah," you whispered. Your voice was in the same shape as his. Apprehension was laced in your words. As soon as you gave your answer, his hands slipped your hoodie right off. His eyes bore into you as he looked down at your body, panting through parted lips.

"Fucking hell. Did you wear this for me?" The gaze of his eyes was so intense you had to break the stare. You rested your face in the crook his neck at his comment, losing courage fast. You did indeed listen to Penny this time, and bought a lacy black bra and underwear set earlier this week.

"I was worried it was going to be a little bit much." Face still hidden away from him.

"No, no, it's not. Don't hide your face," he said, fingers clutching your chin and guiding your face, so it was inches away from his, forcing you to be eye to eye once again. Matty removed his own shirt before connecting your lips back together, giving you the chance to run your hands down his bare chest. Your fingertips traced over the tattoo in the middle of his chest, and his reaction was immediate. His tongue worked its way into your mouth, pulling all the air out of your lungs as you continued to grind your hips onto him.

Without warning, Matty pulled you up from the couch by your hips and led you back towards his bedroom. His lips locked against yours until you made it into the room. The back of your legs hit the bed behind you, and then he broke away. Matty held eye contact as he sunk down to his knees in front of you, holding onto the back of your thighs. His eyes passionately looked up into yours, alternating between your wide eyes and your lips, completely enamored by you. He couldn't look away. Your lips were puffy from the previous kisses. You stared right back as his hands traced along the top of your jeans.

"Can I take these off?" he asked. He meant it when he said he wouldn't do anything you didn't want to do. He was going to make sure everything he did was okay. You hastily nodded in response to his question, but that wasn't enough. He needed more than that. "I need to hear you say it, love." He gave the skin above the waistline a small, open-mouthed kiss before looking back at you.

"Yes, you can do whatever you want." he chuckled slightly at your eagerness, but he was just as desperate for you. His hands slowly undid the button of your jeans before he pulled them down over your hips and thighs, keeping his eyes connected with yours as his hands removed your jeans. By the look of desire on his face, and the budge in his pants, you could tell he enjoyed your choice of underwear. The black lace against your skin was a sight he would have to commit to memory.

He stood back up and sat you down on his bed. He stayed right in front of you as he took off his own jeans with haste; pupils wide and blown. His lips were swollen and red, a sheen of saliva on them. You reached out for him, anxious for his touch. Hands running up into his brown curls pulling him down to kiss you, tugging the brown locks.

At the feeling of you pulling his hair, he groaned into your mouth. Unsure of what to do next, you let one of your hands glide down his chest, towards the growing bulge in his boxers. Before you made it, though, he intercepted your hand with his own. His hand completely covered yours as he pulled back to look at you.

"Did I do something wrong?" you asked.

"No, darling, you didn't do anything wrong," he reassured you quickly. His other hand came up to hold the side of your face, brushing your lower lip lightly with his thumb. "I just want to take care of you tonight. Is that alright?"

"If that's what you want to do."

"It most certainly is." Matty moved to sit up on the bed, but he didn't sit next to you. Instead, he sat towards the top of the bed, sitting against the plush headboard. He leaned back against it with his legs spread. "Come here. Lay back against my chest." Your confusion must have shown on your face as you stayed where you were sitting for a moment. "Stop thinking about it so hard, babe." His voice was teasing, but his face was genuine as he motioned you over to him. You listened, and crawled towards him on the bed, turning around so your back laid against his bare chest. The contact with his skin made you shiver. His thighs were on either side of your hips. You could feel yourself pressed into every part of him.

The nerves you thought had calmed down flared back up as you waited for Matty to make his next move. He began by taking his hands and placing them on your thighs. Matty rubbed up and down the lengths of your thighs before he pulled them away from each other to spread your legs apart, mirroring his own. His lips found your neck again, leaving kisses and small bites from the back of your ear all the way down to the crook of your neck. His hands moved from your thighs, dragging them along your hip bone until they spanned across your stomach. He decided to speak again. His breath hot in your ear.

"God, you look so good in lace. Going to be a shame to take it off." Your breath hitched as one of his fingers dipped under the waist band, but he made no effort to remove the undergarment. His hands moved again, this time towards your chest. "I think this can stay on as a compromise," he said with his hands over your breasts. He was teasing you. One of his hands glided down your stomach back to the waistband of your underwear. The other hand gripped you around the waist, pulling you in so you were against his groin. "Feel how hard you're making me?" You pushed your ass back against him, forcing a groan leaving his lips from the pressure.

"Is this okay?" he asked, fingers toying with the waist band. All you could manage was a gasp. "Use your words sweetheart." His voice was firm, but still gentle as he ran his fingertips tentatively underneath the waistband.

"Yes, please," you replied in a whimper. He trailed his middle and ring finger down to tease at your inner thighs before he finally placed them over your clothed clit. Matty planned to drag this out as long as possible. He pressed down in small, very slow circles, causing you to jerk back against him. A moan slipped from your throat.

"That feel good?" He left another hot, open-mouthed kiss on your neck before he trailed his fingers down lower, feeling your arousal through the underwear. "Already this wet for me? You must want it bad, huh?" His fingers continued to move against your clit over your underwear. You were growing restless, practically whining as your hips moved against his fingers, craving his touch on your skin, but he was unyielding. He wanted you to ask for it. "What? You need something else?" he asked, voice thick and sultry.

"Matty, please."

"Please what? If you want me to touch you, you're going to have to tell me with your words."

"Touch me. Please touch me. Please, please, please." You were gasping for air. Your chest moving up and down at a fast pace. You wanted him. No, you needed him.

"Such a good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" His comment made the blood rise to your cheeks. "I'm going to take these off now, alright?" He grabbed the waistband of the underwear and pulled them down your thighs. You stifled a gasp when his fingers pressed against you. One of your hands reached behind you to thread through his hair, while the other went to cover your mouth as he began to circle you in a fast motion. Matty wasn't going to allow that. His free hand coming up to pull your hand from over your mouth. "I want to hear how good I'm making you feel.”

You don't think you could have held back your moans even if you tried, whining at the movement of his hand. Your hips moved aimlessly against his. The constant movement against his erection was becoming too much. His groans were hot against your ear. His arm wrapped around your waist and pinned it to him, ceasing your movements. "This is about you sweetheart, remember?" he added, voice strained. He trailed a finger downwards, gently circling your entrance. "Can I?"

"Please," you begged. You wanted as much of him as he would give you.

He slowly worked a finger into you, waiting until you were comfortable before thrusting deep in and out of you at a careful pace. "Fuck, you're so wet," he breathed into your ear. By this point, his other hand moved its way past your breasts and rested around your neck, giving your neck a gentle, but constant squeeze. You choked out a moan at the pressure on your neck, writhing against his groin once again. Heat spread across your skin. You knew he wanted to be careful with you, but you couldn't take the slow pace of his movements. You needed more.

"Matty, please put another one in and go faster. I'm not going to break, please." you begged. You were desperate, you didn't care if you sounded that way.

"Eager?" he replied. You didn't have to beg again, though. He wanted to please you. Matty pushed another finger into you and increased his pace, curling his fingers up so they brushed against a spot that made you jerk against him.

"Oh, fuck," you cried out, tightening your grasp in his hair. Your head fell back against his shoulder as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, going deeper and deeper with every stroke. The heat began to build in your lower stomach, wounding tighter with each of his movements. His hand left your neck and rested below your navel. He pushed down onto your lower stomach with his hand while his fingers continued to move. A choked sob left your lips. The tension within you was growing tighter.

"You like that?" he asked as if he didn't already know the answer, picking up the pace of his hand. You pulsed around his fingers with every stroke inside of you.

"Matty—" you rasped. His name was the only thing you were sure of right now. His fingers hitting every spot you needed them to. The heat in your stomach was reaching a breaking point.

"Something you're trying to tell me, love?"

"Please. I'm so close, please."

Immediately, he drew his hand from your stomach and began to circle your clit. The sensation from both hands was too much. Your hips stuttering against him. Electricity began to run through your skin as your hands went down to grasp at his thighs for support. Nails digging into the skin.

"Go on, sweetheart. Don't hold back," he murmured. His lips reattached to your neck, sucking hard on your pulse point.

His words, the feeling of his tongue, and the prodding of his hands sent you over the edge. You cried out his name at your release. Your muscles tensed around his fingers as the pleasure enveloped you, trembling in his hold.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he whispered into your ear, continuing to rub your clit to help you come down.

You stayed against him, trying to catch your breath as he removed his fingers from inside of you. Your skin still buzzing with pleasure as his other hand held your chin to pull you in for a kiss. Wanting to deepen the kiss, you turned around to sit in his lap, but he held back your face before your lips could meet his. His fingers that were inside you came up to prod against your lower lip.

"Clean them off for me, yeah?" he asked. His pupils were so wide you could barely make out the brown ring around them.

You did what he asked, opening your mouth to take his fingers in as far as they would go. Your lips closed around his fingers while your tongue pressed against them; you could taste yourself on his fingers. He slowly dragged them out of your mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. You craved more of him.

"Please fuck me," you begged, voice shaky.

Matty sucked in a sharp breath. He wanted all of you, but he was determined to wait. His hands held both sides of your face before he spoke. "Next time, but not tonight, okay? I just wanted to take care of you tonight, to take things slow."

"I want to make you feel good, too. Please, Matty." Your hands were on his chest, raking your fingernails down him softly. The only thing separating your bodies was the thin fabric of his boxers. He was still hard against you, straining against the fabric.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he insisted. Although, he was losing composure fast at the feeling of you against him with nearly no separation.

"If you won't fuck me..." you breathed out, moving your hips. He winced as you ground down against him. "Is there something else you'll let me do to get you off? You can use my mouth if you want." He groaned at the thought of your lips wrapped around him but pushed the image aside. That would happen later, not tonight.

"Fucking hell, I'll compromise. You can jerk me off. That alright?"

"Yes," you replied with a quick nod. "I'll do anything you'll let me."

"Go ahead," he prompted, voice thin. You went to move off of his lap, kneeling beside him. You gradually ran your hand down from his chest tattoo until you reached the bulge in his underwear. You splayed your hand over his clothed erection and pressed down carefully, looking him in the eye. His hips jerked against your hand as you continued to apply pressure. "Fuck," he groaned. You moved your hands upward to hook around his waist band, pulling the garment down.

He was big. A bead of precum formed at his tip. Your hand trembled as you grasped around his cock. Your fingers barely made their way all around him. His chest moved up and down as he breathed deeply, watching as you held him in your hand. Unsure of exactly how to do this well, you looked up at him.

"Do you want some guidance?" he asked without you having to say anything. His eyes were glazed over as they looked back down on you. You nodded hesitantly in response, and this time he didn't pry at your lack of words. "Alright." His hand moved down until it was wrapped around yours over his cock. His hand completely encapsulated yours, making you feel small next to him. He began to guide your hand to move up and down his shaft at a careful pace. His breath picked up at the feeling of your hand around him, struggling to speak out his next set of instructions.

"Just start out slow, don't press too hard at the tip." You continued to follow the movements of his hand, occasionally glancing up to see the look on his face. His lips were parted, still puffy. Pieces of hair hanged down over his forehead. He removed his hand from yours to let you touch him on your own. You were still careful with your movements, but held him firmly in your grasp, using his precum to glide your hand at a faster pace.

You were still unsure of yourself. "Is that good?" you asked, meeting his dark eyes.

"Fuck. Yeah, that's good keep going just like that." His words only egged you on. You increased your pace, giving the head of his cock a gentle squeeze. His head fell back against the headboard as a choked sound left his lips. You took his exposed neck as an opportunity to attach your lips to his neck, sucking right above his collarbone while continuously moving your hand. His hips jerked when your lips met his neck. "Shit, love. You're so good. Fuck."

He was getting close. His lower stomach was tensing, and his cock pulsated in your hand. Strained sounds were coming out of his mouth. You removed your lips from his neck and moved your freehand to the back of his head, forcing him to look you in the eyes. The eye contact was all it took. He spilled over your hand while you continued to stroke him through his orgasm. His first instinct was to pull you in by the back of your head for a quick, but heated kiss.

"Here, let me get you some tissues," he said, reaching for the box of tissues on his nightstand to clean up the mess on your hand. You stopped him with your clean hand.

"No, I got it," you replied, eyes dark. You took each of your fingers into your mouth, licking them clean while he watched with his mouth wide open.

"Shit. How about we do this again, same time next week?"

“Is that gonna be the ‘next time’ you mentioned earlier?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

[artilaz]

Modern AU in which Gale and Raphael are professors at the same university, and sort of in a friendly rivalry with each other. Whenever they meet somewhere on campus, they break out in impromptu poetry slams, reciting texts against each other. And when I say against, I mean it.

I cannot stress enough that they have nothing against each other in this AU, you'll likely even see them having a drink together at the fanciest bar in town the same evening, but they just constantly try to one-up each other, which is always an absolutely delightful show for everyone who happens to witness such an instance.

One day it'd absolutely come down to them reciting the entirety of Faust among the two of them, with Gale as Faust, and Raphael as - oh, the irony - Mephistopheles.

[keeksandgigz]

lavender syrup (part one of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: Eddie is the owner of the most popular cafe in his small town, "The Mad Alchemist," you are the owner of the rival cafe "Daily Drug". You obviously hate each other, but when a pipe bursts into your cafe that might take months to repair, your contractor assigns you and your coworkers to work with Eddie in order to keep your job, just until "Daily Drug" is ready to run again. Is tolerating him really that big of a feat?

cw: 4k words, swearing, modern setting, allusions to smut but nothing explicit (yet), Eddie calls reader a bitch a couple times and he's such a condescending asshole but in a hot way, i feel like the sexual tension needs its own tw, Steve is also in this <3

a/n: pls like and reblog and feedback is always so very much appreciated!! my requests are always open if u wanna chat <3

divider by @benkeibear

Eddie Munson wasn’t the type to want much from life. He was content in his little town, managing the coffee shop that kept it alive. From the early morning crew of truckers, farmers, nurses and cops to the 9 am rushes of the corporate job workers from one town over to the yoga moms, the high schoolers after the ring of the last bell. Eddie Munson did not have any big plans for his life. The little coffee shop made him enough money that he was able to take care of his uncle, now retired, and live by himself in a small apartment with his roommate, Steve. 

He got an associate’s degree in business, and after that he opened “The Mad Alchemist Cafe,” a DnD themed rustic coffee shop filled with beakers, lights and plants. The exposed brick the “interior designer” (it really was just a friend who had a good eye) begged him to paint over was instead littered with posters of announcements. He would host poetry slams, band performances, most importantly DnD campaigns he'd have to close down the cafe for in the evenings. For a few years he had also been hosting Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners for those who didn’t have a family to go home to for the holidays. 

He hired his roommate and closest friend, Steve to be the baker. Straight out of cooking school, Steve Harrington took care of the sweet and savory. The thousand- layer croissants that would melt once slightly placed on the tip of the tongue. Airy, buttery pastry that made Eddie's customers sigh with every bite, as they lingered on the wooden bar, conversing with the baristas. The lunch hour crew, asking for meatball sandwiches and messy pasta bowls. He’d make turkeys for the dinners at the cafe, during the holiday season, along with insurmountable potato dishes and stuffing. 

Eddie's life was littered with small sprinkles of joy. Everyone knew him as the kid from the cafe, with his long hair, sticking out of the messy bun he would wear to work. It started off as a joke in middle school, when Eddie's hair was buzzed due to a lice epidemic. Steve had miserably beat him at the arcade. He had grown fond of the long hair though, and added to the mystique of his coffee shop. It was also metal as fuck.

He felt like he was the main accessory to his lovely brick building; there would not have been  “The Mad Alchemist Cafe” without Eddie Munson, something that both staff and customers knew. The cafe would also not have been the cafe without the three years long rivalry with the only other cafe on their side of town, “Daily Drug” that opened a year after Eddie’s. The brand new establishment that started taking customers from him, claiming that their chai lattes and breakfast sandwiches were to die for.

Eddie had not interacted much with you, the owner of the cafe. Your bossy, stuck up and overall terrible attitude were a house trade mark there. He had been in the cafe though, and understood why “Daily Drug” was such an incredible contender to his establishment. The ambiance was different, like a Pinterest board had come to life. The pink and blue tile that decorated the walls as well as the ironic bitchy posters that ranged from a snarky “What are you looking at?” to a direct and curt “don’t be an asshole” decorated the walls. 

It was nothing like the cafe Eddie had imagined, the colorful palette contrasting with the caricaturistic mean and sarcastic ways of the staff, whose bitterness might have actually improved the taste of their coffee, as their lavender lattes tasted way sweeter, the syrup not overpowering the taste of the coffee, perfectly blended with the best milk for the beverage, which he found was almond.

You could have easily spat in his cup, but you serve him with feigned kindness as you make sure to make him hear a soundly “UGH could he be any more annoying?” to a blonde haired coworker, whose name he finds out later is Colette. Colette erupts in laughter as she serves his lavender latte with an egg and sausage burrito with a side of aggressive side eye. You had definitely spat in his drink. 

A fifteen- minute car ride later, Eddie enters his cafe begrudged by his inability to master a lavender latte. The taste of his in- house lavender syrup is too artificial, while “Daily Drug”’s try as he might is a flavor that he had never encountered.

The lavender provides a sweet flavor to the drink that pairs perfectly with the bitter coffee and the creamy taste of the almond milk without the artificial aftertaste. He beelines to the back of the building, to the room he called his lab, setting down his bag on a stool next to him as he takes a bored bite out of the egg and sausage burrito. Hm. Steve's is better. 

He jots down some notes in his journal. Try lemon for lavender syrup. Fennel seed in the sausage. Paprika maybe? Definitely garlic. He should have listened to his uncle and he should have gone to cooking school before he had opened the restaurant. He knew that he had the talent for it, Steve had even asked him to apply together, but he felt like it was not his true calling. 

“Your true calling is bossing everyone around, Ed” said his uncle with a laugh, one of the many sleepless nights he had spent mulling over the cafe during its early days. A knock startles him from his reverie. It's Steve. 

“Hey, didn’t see you come in. Are you still stressing over that lavender syrup thing?” he leans on the doorframe, half smiling at Eddie. He came in too early. Him and Steve were kind of the same in that regard, once haunted by an idea, they would not rest until it was executed. 

“What was it this morning? Strawberry frosting on matcha rolls?” says Eddie taking another bite out of his stale burrito.

"Nah, it's for the Halloween special, I'm trying to figure out the menu. We need to remember to add more nutmeg to the pumpkin spice syrup this year" Steve says, crossing his arms.

"Shit, yeah, I almost forgot. Also, this" Eddie shakes his burrito towards his friend "does not compare to yours by, like, miles. The sausage is too dry and the egg too cooked" Steve shrugs and fixes his glasses with a smug smile.

"Knew it." Eddie laughs at that, then proceeds to scribble in his leather bound notebook. Then the phone rings.

"Hey Steve, do you mind getting that?" Eddie says, not moving his head from the notebook.

"You got it boss" Steve heads towards the phone in Eddie's office.

"'Mad Alchemist Cafe' Steve speaking...Mhm...yeah, Eddie's in...oh shit" at that, Eddie turns his head.

"What is it, what's wrong Steve?" his tone alarmed as he paces towards the phone.

"Yeah no he's here you can talk to him, Jim" Steve passes the phone, making a face, the corners of his mouth pulled as if he were in trouble. "It's Jim" his contractor. Fuck.

Eddie presses the phone to his ear "Hey Jim, what's up?" his tone tense and cautious.

"Hey, kid, I don't know how to tell you this, but a pipe burst at 'Daily Drug'" Jim sounds scared, but Eddie is still struggling to figure out what that had to do with him, other than the fact that he would finally get back his traitorous customers who had gone to the dark side when “Daily Drug” opened.

"Yeah, ok, and that's my problem because?" he's annoyed at the ominous way Jim called at 8 in the morning concerned for his rival cafe's burst pipes.

"Are you sitting down, kid?" Ed rolls his eyes, he's getting seriously pissed off at this whole mystery thing his contractor's getting at.

"Yeah, Jim. Fuck sake just spit it out"

"Alright, alright no need to get aggressive" Jim takes a deep breath in "In order for the girls at 'Daily Drug' to keep their jobs you need to hire them, at least until the shop is up and running again." Oh shit indeed. Jim trails off, waiting for a reaction.

"How long Jim?" Eddie's fuming.

"It could take up to six months, really, the pipe fucked up the whole kitchen so they need to redo the back and stuff, hell it might take a year knowing how slow these fuckers operate" Jim exhales, he's probably shaking. Eddie did not make his contempt for “Daily Drug” unknown.

“Jesus Christ Jim you can’t do this to me. You know how much that- that bitch hates me. Everytime I go there I'm pretty sure she spits in my coffee. I'm actually convinced they all do, Jim" he's spiraling.

"C'mon kid, don't be stupid. That would violate an incredibly long amount of regulations and they would need to close down if it were true. Which I don't think it is" Jim sounds like he's finding this amusing now.

"This is not funny. And- and then what? The owner just comes in here and she starts actin' like she owns the place? We start sharing responsibilities? That's real cute, Jim, y'know that? Incredibly cute." Only then Eddie had notices how hard he had been gripping the phone. And the armrest of his chair.

"Eddie, you're throwing a tantrum. The owner doesn't hate you, they're hired under the agency and I just pulled some strings because I know you and these girls- these girls have families to support and I didn't want to scatter them all across town. I know they will be in good hands, they're not your employees, Eddie. Get it in that thick skull or I'm closing your shit down" Fuck. He's backed up into a corner.

"Alright. When do they start?" He grabs a pen and a piece of paper and scribbles Daily Drug start dates.

"Okay, so we have eight employees. Four of them are going across town, I have that cafe there. The rest are going to you- Virginia, Colette, Chrissy and the owner are all going to your cafe. They start tomorrow at 9 am. Better brush up on those training books, kid." Jim snickers.

"You're hilarious, Jim y'know that?" he quickly jots down the names and the time, stopping at your name for a second, before putting an angry face next to it.

"Aw, come on, kid. Maybe it might be a great way for you all to bond and put this stupid rivalry behind"

"Yeah- yeah no, and then we're gonna ride on the rainbow towards a pot of gold and do a little jig. Of course, Jim. I am healed already. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow after everything- if that bitch doesn't put a knife at my throat, speaking of, I should hide them" he seethes.

"Don't stress Ed. You'll be okay, what matters is that-" Jim never gets to finish that sentence, blocked by the violent slam of Eddie's phone back into its socket.

"FUCKING SHIT" he yells, kicking the bottom of his desk.

"I take it wasn't good news?" Steve leans on the threshold of Eddie's office.

"Steve- God I want to punch something. The owner of 'Daily Drug' in here. She's gonna kill me. Hide the knives"

"If I didn't know you like the back of my hand I'd say you're a little scared of her, Ed."

"Have you seen her? She's terrifying. So mean. I'd be turned on if she wasn't my archenemy" and he does have eyes, he thinks you're attractive. He's fantasized about putting you in your place, sometimes. About shutting your mouth up, see how witty you were after he'd make you go dumb from a few rounds.

He shakes his head. He has to stop.

"Well, maybe you can be nice to her so we can steal her lavender syrup recipe" Steve suggests. And as morally wrong as that sounds, you've spit in his drink before, so what's a bit of foul play compared to an FDA violation?

"Steven you might be onto something, but for now let's just worry about surviving tomorrow- God I know it's gonna be awful" Eddie says. As he said that, one of his employees, Jeff, comes knocking at his office.

"Eddie, the owner of the other cafe is here, she's asking for you." Eddie's eyes widen. The fuck is she doing here?

"The fuck- Okay thank you, Jeff. Send her back here." He dismisses his barista and Steve follows him back into the kitchen.

There is no hiding you're angry. Starting a job at a place where you knew everyone hated you seemed a bit of a cunt move from Jim, and there you are. Heading towards Eddie Munson's office, walking like you own the damn place.

"You look a little too sure of yourself for someone who lost their cafe, sweetheart. What is it, hm? What are you doing here?"

His condescending tone only stokes your anger more.

"I just came here to see the place, see if I have to dumb myself down. Maybe you guys don't know what cortados are" Feigned pity in your face.

"If you've come here to be a bitch you can go right home. One call to Jim and I can end this arrangement as quickly as it started, let's not get like that, m'kay?" his smile is devilish and god it's so hard to not find him attractive even when you want to rip him to shreds for threatening you.

"I didn't come here to bitch. I wanted to pick up our aprons? You guys have cute aprons. At least you have good taste in something" you scoff, and he shoots you a look. Fucking brat.

"Yeah- um" Eddie stands up from his desk and reaches for a box in the corner of his office "I'll give you two each. Try to keep 'em clean, I don't like dirty aprons. I've seen how messy you guys are at the cafe, that won't fly here 'kay? We really value cleanliness and order here"

"How clean can a cafe run by a man really be, huh? that's probably why your lights are so dim" he wants to kill you, but also pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat so you can stop talking.

"You've had a long morning, sweetheart. Why don't you go home and sleep it off? I'm afraid you're letting off all this negative energy here and we don't want that. Not here" his tone's more stern rather than joking "I'll see ya bright an' early tomorrow morning at nine. Please don't come late, yeah?" he winks at you, cueing you to leave.

As you cross the threshold of the cafe you cannot possibly fathom what was it that left you so flustered and with an insatiable hunger between your thighs.

You pick up your coworker Colette on the way to work the morning after, presenting her with a bagel and all your rage directed towards Eddie. 

“No, Col, you don’t understand. He threatened to call Jim for a little remark. You know how insane that is? He’s gonna use whatever sick power he thinks he has over me to make me stay in line. Nope, no sir not with me” you say, turning into the parking lot of the cafe. 

“This Eddie guy really is an asshole, huh?” Colette remarks, getting out of the car. 

“You have no idea, it’s like he thinks he’s the shit or something just because the whole town loves him” 

“Everyone does love me, sweetheart. Good morning ladies, I’d recommend getting in, you have five minutes.” Eddie's right behind you, closing the trunk of his van, wearing one of his dumb satanic shirts. It's black, arms covered by a ratty black leather jacket. His hair is down and a messenger bag littered with button pins is slung over his shoulder, resting on his hip. All it takes is one snide remark and then he's gone inside the shop. 

You don't realize you're staring until Colette pinches the back of your arm, you reach for the affected area. “Babes, not him. Literally anyone but him, you have literally spent the whole car ride talking about how much of an asshole he is” 

“I have eyes, Col. He’s hot, and as much as I’d love to sleep with him, my hatred for this asshole is a bit too strong. I’d probably punch him mid- act anyway” you snicker and follow Eddie inside the store. Virginia and Chrissy are already inside, you shoot them a comforting look and a light touch to Virginia’s arm, who seriously lookes like she's about to cry.

“You okay, Gin?” you ask, lightly elbowing her arm. 

“No, I- I’m okay. Just nervous, also a bit scared. The boss seems mean” she trembles. She's only seventeen, after all. She's been working since she had been able to, if not before. Taking babysitting jobs until she turned fifteen, then just started taking customer service jobs, until she stumbled inside “Daily Drug,” with the extensive resume she had, she had been easy to hire. 

“He’s an asshole, but don’t let him intimidate you. He can’t do anything without Jim’s approval, just remember that, hun” you squeeze her arm as Eddie enters, having shed his jacket, putting his hair up, and tying the purple apron around his waist. A small, golden tag says his name on the right side of his chest. 

“Good morning, ladies. My name is Eddie, the owner of this fine establishment” he bows, smirking. “The crew at “Mad Alchemist” is deeply sorry about what happened at your cafe. We will do everything in our power to make you guys feel welcome for your short stay here” at the mention of “short” his eyes dart at you. You’re not the only one who hopes this bullshit will be short, dickhead.

You step forward, putting your best polite face on. “Thanks, Eddie. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to keep working, and we hope to learn from our time here” you say through gritted teeth. Even being that nice to him feels like nails on a chalkboard on your brain. “These are my baristas- Virginia, Chrissy, and Colette, my baker” you point at each of your girls. 

“Oh Colette, you’re gonna want to meet with Steve, then- He’s my baker and pastry chef. I’m sure you both have a lot of things to talk about, and a lot of work to do since our Halloween special will be dropping in a week from today” a taut smile appears on his lips. 

The guy in the back with the gorgeous head of hair and round glasses whom you assume is Steve waves his hand and Colette shoots you an assuring look before she runs to him, disappearing in the back, where you assume the pastry shop is. 

No one to run to now.

"Perfect, shall we begin?" Eddie's voice feels muffled in your ears as he assigns each one of his baristas to one of yours for training. The cafe has just passed its early morning peak time, meaning that in a couple hours you will have a lunch rush. Everything feels like it's moving too fast.

The noises around you become clear again when Eddie grazes the bare skin of your arm. You shiver. Unbeknownst to you, his hand flexes at his side.

"Scared, sweetheart? You look like you've seen a ghost..." his mouth is moving, but you can't understand anything of whatever he's saying. You're unconsciously rubbing the area Eddie had touched, his fingers warm yet rough, from all the times he's had to wash his hands throughout the day.

You haven't noticed until now how thick his fingers are. Suddenly, the feeling of a phantom limb reaching out, wrapping a hand around your throat, gently feeling its way down your neck, your shoulders, your clavicle, down your stomach and into-

"You wanna follow me to my office or what? I have a couple questions for you" Eddie breaks you out of your sick reverie, leaving you a bit flushed in the face, afraid to look at him in the eye.

"Yeah-uh sorry. Lead the way" you say, and suddenly the floor becomes very interesting to look at.

Quickly, everyone gets to work. The girls being taught the house drinks by the guys at the bar, whilst you follow Eddie in his office. 

“I just need to know if there’s any schedule preferences from the girls, just in case there’s any conflict. I was thinking, since the Halloween special will be dropping, one of these days you might need to sit in here with me and I’ll give you a proper training of what that entails. Y’know tastings and such.” His demeanor has switched from snarky to utterly professional, for which you thank whatever entity in the sky, allowing you a break from his abrasive behavior. 

He sits down at his desk and pulls out a notepad and a pen. He looks at you with waiting eyes.

“Yeah, um, Virginia has school during the week and can’t work until after three and she can only work four hours on weekdays, three days a week and usually a full shift during the weekend. Chrissy and Colette can work whenever, but please don’t schedule Col at the early hours of the mornings, she actually cannot function. She’s more useful to you awake” you let out a breathy laugh, remembering Colette putting salt instead of sugar in a batch of banana bread muffins. 

In the meantime, Eddie scribbles on his notepad. You feel uneasy in a room with him without the loud tensions of an argument looming, the blood booming in your ears. 

“And you?” he raises an eyebrow, lifting his face from the notepad. 

“Oh, I’ll just come in whenever you need me. I really don’t mind, I just need a good amount of hours. I um- I have my dad to take at the hospital on Saturday mornings, but I can come after” you say, your face tinging a bright red. 

 He scribbles that down, embarrassment visible on your face as the tension in the room becomes suffocating. 

“Alright, I’ll have those schedules ready by the end of the day. I need you to come in tomorrow through Wednesday. Opening shift Monday and Tuesday, you’ll close with me and Chrissy on Wednesday. Sounds good?” he keeps writing down in his notepad, you nod. He tuts “I need words, I can’t see you nodding or shaking your head if I’m writing, can I?” 

“Y-yeah, that sounds good. Sorry” You feel even more embarrassed, the tops of your ears tinging red. 

“Don’t apologize. Just do better next time” Eddie thrums a ringed hand on the edge of his desk. He's never seen you this docile and it puts him off. He was hoping for some snide remark, but you're looking around nervously, playing with the laces of your apron, which he finds enhances the curves and features of your body. Wondering what you’d look like in nothing but that apron, all the exposed skin of your back, shoulders and– 

“Are we done here?” there she is. The snarky question makes him jump, thanking the desk for covering the lower half of his body. 

“Yeah, I can go train you now, just gimme a sec, I’ll meet you outside” I need to get rid of that boner is what he means, but you don't budge. 

“Fuck no, you’re not training me. Gimme someone else” you remark, crossing your arms. 

“God there I thought you weren’t gonna be a bitch today.” He exhales. “How many people do you see in the staff, huh? It's Steve, Gareth, Jeff and I. Not much of a merry group. You either let me train you or the door is that way.” you can tell he’s had enough of you, which only stokes your fire even more.

“Literally anyone but you. You can train Virginia, I’m sure you have a bit of heart to not be a dick to a literal child. Not that she even needs training, she has more knowledge and better work ethics than you assholes” you spit, and you’re sure Eddie wants to kill you. 

“I don’t tolerate this kind of language in my store. I’m sure that’s what attracted all my customers to your store, but you can shut that filthy mouth in here. Now, you’re gonna go out and wait for me to train you, understood?” he's seething. 

“Or what? You can’t do shit Eddie. I’m not your little employee, you can’t fucking threaten me” you're winded, this argument is stupid and you want to punch him. 

“Alright” Eddie stands up abruptly and stalks towards you. “train yourself then.”

His tone is calm and collected, which makes you tremble. He's close. Really close.

“I wanna watch you crash and burn and struggle to make a dragon’s breath latte. You don’t want me to train you? Fine. Perfect. The less time I have to spend away from your bitch mouth the better my day will be. Recipe cards are on the counter. Have fun” he taps his hand on your shoulder and gives you a pulled smile, then walks back to his desk. 

He's fucking brutal.

[insanityofmams]

So I don't know if anyone else is far too invested in this couple as I am buuut

Happy Zestmilla anniversary!

That's right, today January 19th marks one year since the very first time these two showed up on our screens and had me going "wait what do you mean they're not together?"

Honestly, this is the first time in a LONG time that a couple of characters have grabbed my attention like this and honestly, I see no signs of it letting go anytime soon. Especially not when it's introduced me to so many new friends who have been so supportive in both my writing and artistic experimentations and I honestly don't think I'd be half the writer I am today without them. So thanks you all!

Anyway, while I don't have anything new to celebrate them right now because I have so many works to slam out before Season 2 happens, I thought it might be a good time to collect all the explicitly Zestmilla stuff I've created for them in one spot. So, here we go!

Bound By Word - (complete) 3 chapters, 23.9k words. A deal was made between Zestial and Clara a long time ago and Carmilla finds out.

A Surprise Visit - (incomplete) Main 4 chapter story arc complete at 41.7k words. 2 bonus chapters and two sequel stories in the works. A Black Market Weapons Dealer AU where our precious idiots cannot see that they've both been waiting for the other to give them a sign of a shared desire.

The Art of Affection - (incomplete) 2 chapters complete, a third one is in the works (surprise!), 19.3k words. Zestial offers his dear friend a break and indulges in a habit of his own, though sometimes indulgences come with a cost.

Earning Her Place - (incomplete) 1 chapter complete, 3 in editing stage, currently 4.8k. Fun fact, this is actually the first story I outlined in February after Bound By Word was released. It just didn't get written until Zestmilla Week while I was on a 10 hour flight. My proposed origin story for how these two met.

Poetry is Difficult - (complete) 2 chapters, 5.5k words. The two write poetry for another because they're soft like that. A half-serious proposal as to how they admitted their feelings for another. This one was actually created by the question "can I make a set of sonnets that sound like they wrote them?"

My Sacrifice For You - (complete) 3 chapters, 18.6k words. This one is the ONLY intentionally sad one based off of a video game story arch. It does not have a happy ending.

Recovering What Was Lost - (incomplete) 3 chapters, 4th in progress. Currently 21.6k words. Carmilla goes missing, Zestial and her daughters try to find her and hope that, if they do, she'll still be in a state to help.

... wow, not counting Bound By Word (because it was a co-written effort), this couple got me writing over 110k words in a year - that's insane!

Anyway, happy unofficial anniversary to these two and I hope we get more of them next season and I can write even more stories for them!

[cozzzynook]

Vampire Roddy Anon back with part 3 because I love this Au :> (Now with some drama)

A few months have passed since that day, Rodimus hardly felt that urge to feed anymore not since he and Megs have started courting each other in secret. Said mech was carefully reading through some poetry while speaking with Magnus at their shared table. Rodimus felt a flash of jealousy rush through his spark but before the red speedster could walk over he felt someone grab his arm. "Roddy! Come sit with me and Ratty it's been forever since its just been the three of us" Drift had a wide smile while he gently tugged his Amica towards the table where Ratchet was sitting with a glass of teal energon who was also waving at them.

With a sigh Rodimus gave a smile allowing Drift to drag him to their table. Before taking his seat he quickly looked over his shoulder glancing back at Megatron's and Magnus's table, the grey mech was watching with a slight scowl a hint of his own jealousy flashed in his own optics. "So What's been keeping you busy kid? We rarely see you at Swerve's or at our hab anymore" Ratchet grumbled giving a concerned look "You're not sick or in trouble are you?" Drift also had a worried look, the white mech carefully squeezed Roddy's arm with his servo. "Ah, nothing to worry about...I've just been busy lately, Magnus has been keeping me on data pad duty." Roddy gave a quick smile hoping it would be enough to calm their nerves. The pair looked a bit unconvinced but they gave a smile non the less. "Well, We wanted to talk to you about something...something personal" Drift's EM field buzzed with warmth and comfort as he grabbed both Ratchet's and Rodimus's servo with his own. "Rodimus, Me and Ratchet have been thinking about it for a while. We are in love with you Roddy and we want to court you, We want you to become our Conjunx." Rodimus felt his spark sink down to his peds as his energon ran cold, what was he supposed to say without releveling the truth about him and Megs while also not breaking their sparks. "Wow...Uh I-I'm flattered but this is rather sudden..." Rodimus suddenly stood up trying to hide the dread and guilt on his face "But uh...I can't accept your offer...I'm already being courted by someone else" The look on both Ratchet's and Drift's face was enough to make Rodimus feel terrible.

"Who?!" Drift suddenly stood slamming his servos on the table, his field was burning with hurt and anger. "Is it someone we know?! Are they forcing you to agree to their courting Roddy?!" Ratchet had grabbed a hold of his partner's servo trying to calm him down as half of the Mess Hall was now watching them. The medic was about to drag the upset speedster away but only stopped when he heard someone clear their intake. "Is everything alright here?" Megatron asked raising a brow. Drift gave a short glare but allowed his field and flaring plating to fall back before sitting back down, Rodimus had shuffled awkwardly to the side of the table ready to make a run for it. "No, we were just shocked is all...Rodimus told us some starling news." The Medic grumpily answered not wanting this to end up with someone in the brig or his med-bay. Megatron gave a low hum before glancing back at his Co-captain giving a mild worried look before looking back at the speedster and his medic. "I should get going now...I just remembered I needed to help Megs out with some reports...talk to you later" Rodimus gave a sheepish smile before quickly leaving the table and heading towards the door and into the hallway, Megatron quickly followed keeping his helm down hoping it didn't drew any suspicion.

Once they were half way down the hall and out of the sight of any camaras Rodimus let out a shaky sigh before resting his helm on Megatron's side. With a gentle servo Megatron pulled the red mech into a tight hug before giving a small peck on his crest. "I fragged up Megs...they wanted to court me...I though those feelings were lost long ago so I never noticed. Now they are going to hate me" Rodimus buried his face into the grey mech's chest trying to hide from the guilt. Megatron gentle petted the golden spoiler comforting his smaller partner "They are not going to hate you my Flame...they might be a bit shocked and hurt for a while, but if they truly care for you they will be happy for you that you found someone who cares for you." The larger mech gentle cupped Roddy's cheek when the speedster raised his helm. "And I am forever thankful you chose me to be your future Conjunx Rodimus" With a gentle smile Megs bowed his helm so he could nuzzle the red mechs cheek, Roddy let out a giggle fluttering his spoiler before gazing up at those red optics. "Thanks Megs, for everything...even accepting me as this" He gestured to his long fangs "I'm not sure what I would do without you" Megatron gave a chuckle before reaching into his sub-space to grab something "I was saving this for a more...romantic evening but I think it's about time we make our courting official" Rodimus let out a gasp as Megatron pulled out a beautiful Nyonian themed head dressing. With careful servos he placed the elegant jewellery on top of Rodimus helm before pulling away with a loving smile. "Megs, you studied Nyonian courting traditions for me? You didn't have too" Roddy looked away with a bashful expression but his spoiler fluttered happily. With a soft smile and a gentle servo Megatron grabbed a hold of Rodimus servo "My Flame, I only wish to bring happiness and joy to your life and if that means I have to study the stars or history itself I'll gladly do it a thousand times over" The grey mech then placed a gentle kiss on the servo making Rodimus blush a darker shade of red. "I'm going to end up biting you again you know..." Roddy grumbled trying to hide his bashful face. "I know you will~" Megatron gave a smirk.

Half a year passes and Rodimus is happily sitting in his hab with one servo on his tanks while another carefully sketches a drawing on his data pad. A gentle knock grabbed the red mech's attention, with a sigh he got up and walked over opening the door. There stood with a sheepish smile and a basket of energon goodies stood Drift and Ratchet. "Hey kid, we wanted to check on you and apologize" Ratchet spoke still looking rather unsure with his own words. Rodimus gives a warm smile side stepping allowing the pair to enter "Oh, well come in...there's actually something I want to tell you both" The medic raised a brow while Drift carefully placed the basket before giving his Amica a hug. "Oh Roddy I'm sorry that I got mad. I was just so worried and afraid that someone would hurt you" Rodimus gave a soft chuckle before returning the hug "It's alright Drift, I know you were both just looking out for me and I forgive you" The speedster flashed a smile at the medic before pulling him into a hug despite him softly grumbling about that he wasn't a hugger. "So Kid, what did you want to tell us?" Rodimus flapped his spoiler giddy quickly grabbing something from the shelf and handing it to the pair. "Well me and Megs have been talking about it for a while, and now we are having one and we also wanted to get you involved too" Roddy's smile grew wider when he saw the shocked looks on both Ratchet's and Drift's face. "Roddy you're sparked?!" Drift's face beamed while Ratchet was already fussing over the expecting Carrier. Drift carefully put away the plushie version of himself before pulling his Amica into a hug. "Oh Roddy I'll happily accept to become your Bitties Primus Sire, What about you Ratty?" The white speedster turned to gaze at his Conjunx with a wide smile. "I might be a little old to carry sparklings these days but I'll happily accept to become their Primus Carrier if you'll have me" With a wide smile Rodimus hugged Ratchet. "I'm glad you accepted, I'll let Megs know about the good news" With a happy skip Drift was already rushing towards the kitchen to grab some plates before opening the basket to set out the goodies, Meanwhile Ratchet was helping Rodimus to his seat asking the usual questions and if Roddy was feeling ill at all. An hour later Megatron joined the small party having brought some more fabrics to make their little Bitty a blanket, for Rodimus it was a peaceful and fun evening and he was looking forward to the day when he would be able to hold his sparkling for the first time. "Do you think they'll be like me?" Roddy asked as Megatron carefully rubbed the growing bump. "Hmm if they do I might have to ask Preceptor to make some teething toys...having you bite me is enough" He gave a playful but loving smile. Rodimus giggled giving his Conjunx a gentle kiss. "Either way I'm just excited, I can't wait to meet them and watch them grow" Megs gave a low hum in agreement before placing his own kiss on Roddy's crest. "So am I...now would you like extra Bismuth shavings in your energon or Tungsten?" Rodimus thought for a moment before answering "We are craving Bismuth shavings, oh! and don't forget to add extra whipped cream!" Megatron chuckled as he headed into the kitchen "As my Prime commands"

(Hope you enjoyed I wanted to wrap it up with a super fluffy ending because I'm a sucker for happy endings :D)

Oh my gosh i am IN LOVE WITH THIS!!!!!

😍😍😭😭 this is so good!!! I really love this and i think its sooo good!!!

Thank you for sending this! You can write in my inbox at any time! Thank you!

[haveyoureadthismcytfic]

Summary:

Tommy was handed a small flyer in printed in black and white, with the words “POETRY NIGHT - OPEN MIC” splayed across the front in bubbled font. He fumbled with his binder as he took it, eyes wide as he said, “are you sure? I mean, I love poetry and all, but I don’t think-I’m not sure—what if I can’t write poetry?” Mr. Sam’s dark eyes softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Everyone has to start somewhere; every poet, from me to Rudy Francisco, started off without knowing a clue about what we were doing. Tommy, it’s not about if you can or cannot write poetry, it’s about if you want to.” or: The performance poetry AU in which Tommy joins a slam team and finds a home in the arts.

Author: @zeeskeit-writes-sometimes

Note from Submitter: THE Tommy Fic ever actually :p. Unfortunately it seems to be on indefinite hiatus and is incomplete, but it's so good i reread it every year regardless

[ohanny]

KentaKim royalty AU!

(screw “five fun facts” i have never been good with rules, @le-trash-prince hope you don't mind)

once upon a time, in a land far, far away tony is king and also a giant, sexist dick. he rules his kingdom with an iron fist, over-taxes the poor, believes alphas are the shit and omegas are only good for breeding and has made being the royal gardener into the most perilous position in the land (he beheaded four gardeners last year alone for over watering his bonsais and one for looking at them with “malice in his eyes”). but even a grand monarch like tony must have allies - and since everyone thinks he's a raging asshole, he actually desperately needs them which is why he resorts to the oldest royal scheme of them all: MARRIAGE.

enter kim. kim is the royal omega from an extremely wealthy kingdom just across some ocean stretch and sails into town, set to marry tony’s eldest son babe. (well, currently eldest. tony does not have a great track record when it comes to keeping custody.) babe is not very enthusiastic about this situation since he is carrying a secret affair with the castle archivist, charlie. (and by secret i mean pretty much everyone except tony knows but since they like babe, they just pretend babe actually is that passionate of a reader behind closed doors.)

but babe also has a conscience and really feels bad for kim who seems like such a nice young man so when they stroll in the gardens, arm in arm, far enough from their chaperones for an illusion of privacy but in their sight so nothing uncouth could happen, babe apologetically whispers that he finds kim bewitching indeed but alas his heart belongs to another. to which kim says “oh thank fuck, i would rather jump off a cliff than let you knot me”

babe: well that’s a bit harsh.

kim: also your dad’s shit.

babe: i mean -

kim: and i am here to kill him

babe: um -

kim: by the way, pete says hi!

and oh pete, tony’s original eldest son who years ago sadly perished (was banished) because he fell off a horse (because he dared to do something as leftist as write poetry to the stable boy way). it was actually kim’s family who sheltered pete and recognized him as a way better option for tony’s throne and kim is in cahoots with him, going undercover. in return of a proper alliance and the liberation of tony’s people, kim’s family will get rid of tony - plan a being an assassination, plan b an outright invasion.

plan a is proving to be quite tricky due to tony being a paranoid motherfucker, but kim is patient. of course something has to throw a spanner into his plans and that something is someone: namely kenta, tony’s secret bastard son most loyal knight. it starts when kenta is sent to summon kim to afternoon tea and sneaks up to him so quietly that he startles kim and suddenly finds himself slammed against a statue with a knife against his neck - oh how the turns have tabled!

kim: oh shit.

kenta: …

kim: i mean oh no, you scared me kind sir!

the knife disappears in the blink of an eye and kim let’s out this ditzy little giggle and offers his arm all “isn’t it time for tea! how lovely!” steadfastly ignoring kenta’s disbelieving are-you-fucking-kidding-me eyes. and well, kenta does escort kim to have his lovely afternoon tea with the other palace omegas. and then keeps escorting kim everywhere. no matter where kim tries to sneak off to, kenta somehow always finds him and it takes everything he has in him to not snap and scream because it is infuriating.

and then the ball happens. because of course there has to be a ball to celebrate the fortuitous engagement full of fancy dresses and foods and wine and palace plots! kim wants to take the opportunity of all the chaos and security being centered around the throne room where tony holds court to sneak but this time it is not kenta who catches him first. this time it is just your regular assassin hired by your regular jealous local omega noble who had their eye on babe and are now pissed they missed out on the royal wedding special. kim is honestly a bit shocked because “seriously?!?” but then kenta, once again, appears out of nowhere and steps in front of kim to shield him as the assassin attacks.

kenta kills the assassin but gets rather seriously hurt in the process. they’re alone in an empty hallway and kim is applying pressure on kenta’s stab wound, cursing up a storm, just letting it all out because what’s the point of hiding anymore? he goes on an epic, totally not panicked, rant about his fuckass skirt and who the fuck wears this many frilly layers, it is the most impractical shit ever and how he totally could have dealt with the assassin on his own if it weren’t for these damn petticoats! “see this is what's wrong with your entire society!” kim hisses as he drags kenta towards the sick bay. “obviously your omegas cannot do anything because who fucking could wearing all this crap! i am a person, not a cupcake!”

kenta stares up at kim in awe. he should probably have more questions but… wow. at least he can blame it all on blood loss.

so anyway, kim dumps kenta outside the sick bay and then runs off before anyone can see him and his blood stained clothes. he enters his room, sends a maid to the party to tell them he suddenly felt ill and retired early, and then spends the rest of the night pacing, pretty sure he fucked up and should be fashioning a rope out of his sheets to scale the tower and disappear. but nothing happens. he hears there was an attack, of course, and sir kenta got hurt but when questioned, kenta looked tony straight in the eye and said he must have hit his head because he cannot remember anything.

kim really could have done this without catching feelings but fuck.

so the next time he and babe have their little garden stroll, kim lowers his voice and insists they will add kenta to the list of people who will be protected at all costs. when babe sceptically exclaims kenta is tony’s right hand man, kim stares him down with a “he goes on the list or you can kiss me and my armies goodbye.” that is one thing dealt with. the next is actually avoiding getting knotted by babe because tony would love to have them married by the end of the month and that cannot happen. so kim starts delaying by any means necessary - he insists his religious beliefs demand they be wed when the stars are aligned a certain way and oh, he simply must have pink gardenias in his ceremony! it has been his dream ever since he was a little pup but alas it is november so they must wait until gardenias are in full bloom!

kim in the council meeting in his cupcake dress:

tony, gritting his teeth: of course. we don't want that.

but the longer kim delays, the more tony suspects something is off. kim is cagey and his mask is wearing increasingly thin. there are rumblings of soldiers making moves and gathering in kim’s kingdom. fuck, even kenta is being shady with his head injury and insisting he keep an eye on kim and then come back with shit like “he complained the tea wasn’t sweet enough and then accompanied babe to the library to read poetry.” absolutely useless, that one. the horror.

of course this will all come to an end when tony, sick of kim’s antics, invites him into a totally non-threatening family dinner in the privacy of his quarters. babe is there, as is kenta, guarding the door. it is the tensest consuming of roasted quail the kingdom has ever experienced with buttholes all across the land clenching for seemingly no reason. for dessert tony serves kim tea with a side of hair yank and knife to a throat with a “you will marry my son in three days time or take a dive off the tallest tower, you filthy fucking -”

aaaaaand he has a knife in his back. it's unclear who looks more shocked: tony or kenta himself who kind of acted on instinct when he saw his kim threatened and about to be married off to someone else. he is about to just go full catatonic because oh, what has he done when kim grabs his face and kisses him. “wow. the plot twists just keep on coming” babe says to absolutely no one but if he has leaned one thing from charlie, it is that someone needs to narrate things for the record.

(of course it isn't as easy as simply getting rid of tony but it is a great start. they will have to weed out loyalists and find out who they can trust and then rework the whole damn constituion but hey, no tony! pete and way will ride in with an army at their backs only to meet open gates and a very smug kim (happily wearing pants) stating “i told you my ass was irresistible enough to get the job done!”)

[altocat]

That Sephiroth is a normal dude that becomes a librarian AU is actually perfect for meeting Genesis later on lol.

...I have too many feelings about this lmao

Sephiroth is too content and distracted in life to notice when people are attracted to him. His only real aims are pleasing his parents and tending to his lovely collection of rare texts and research materials.

He's even considering writing a book himself someday! An encyclopedia of various constellations, or maybe even his own science fiction adventure.

His sexuality was an unexplored mystery to him, as was his acquaintance with love in general...until him.

Sephiroth is perusing the columns of the library's lower chamber when he spots the smug-faced auburn-haired man strolling casually about, a confident swagger in every step as he makes his way directly towards the poetry section.

At first, Sephiroth is unperturbed, noticing only when the same man keeps returning day after day, week after week. Most of the time, he comes alone. Sometimes with a dark-haired man his own age. Sometimes just to lounge around in the comfortable sofas on the upper level, always smirking and flipping through the pages as if savoring a fancy meal.

He always checks out the same book--some old pretentious text that Sephiroth finds less than digestible. Loveless. Sephiroth privately wonders why the man doesn't just go out and buy his own copy, always glancing over at him from across the stack of texts on his desk, silently annoyed, silently confused.

The man seems insufferably arrogant, swaying and strutting about as if he were a walking god among them, glancing knowingly over at Sephiroth from the corner of his eye, lips curling, almost taunting.

Sephiroth is not a violent man, and has always considered himself rather subdued and introverted. This is the first time he ever considers randomly strangling another human being.

It isn't until nearly a year has passed that they finally, finally speak to each other. Sephiroth is innocently cleaning up his desk when the redhead strides over and slams a hand down on the table in a way that echoes across the entire library. Sephiroth nearly jumps out of his skin, startled, perplexed and a little infuriated.

"Hey," the man purrs, leaning challengingly forward. "Let's get out of here."

"We close at four," Sephiroth murmurs shakily, leaning back, unexpectedly alarmed as the heat rushes down his neck and spine, his face flushing.

"So I'll wait."

"I'm busy."

"I'll wait."

"M-Mother's expecting me."

A snort of amusement. "You still live with your mom?"

"Erm...no." Sephiroth squirms. "But I often visit after..." He trails off, caught in the glinting glare of the man's piercing that dangles in the light, the smooth expanse of alabaster skin, all lithe, lean limbs and firm muscle. He feels momentarily sick, dizzy, his once composed and controlled tongue spiraling, the words strained and stupid. "...I'm busy," he finishes lamely.

The man just stares at him, smirks.

Sephiroth squirms again.

"See you at four."

As the man strolls confidently away, Sephiroth is left to goggle dazedly after him, feeling suddenly lost in the dull and dusty air around him, cursing himself, feeling decidedly disoriented, disgusted.

And intrigued.

He curses himself again, tries to rub the redness from his skin, swats at the stack of books in frustration, pulls at his hair and panics.

And meets Genesis outside at 3:30.

They are terrible, terrible creatures together forever after.

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Déjà Brew

@hinnymicrofic June 15 "Coffee," Muggle AU, Coffee Shop <3

Harry isn’t trendy enough for this shop, that much is obvious.

The bulletin boards are plastered with advertisements for several local bands and a poetry slam; the chalkboard lists at least ten different types of milk alternatives and more flavor shot options than he thought possible; and some indie song he’s never heard in his life blares from the speakers.

He considers turning around, but decides the day calls for coffee more than it calls for a tactical retreat, and he presses on.

He’s still staring at the menu, upon which every order has been assigned a kitschy nickname, when he arrives at the front of the line, trying to decipher how to order an americano without making a tit of himself. The barista asks what he’d like and he panic-orders a plain black coffee so there’s no room for error, the pain in his voice apparent. He starts digging around in his wallet for his credit card, and it isn’t until he goes to hand it over that his eyes land on the barista and he freezes.

Fuck she’s pretty.

It’s an annoyingly blokey thing to think, but he thinks it, and keeps on thinking it as her lips quirk into a smirk and her amber eyes glint with amusement at his expression and she tucks an errant strand of coppery hair behind her ear.

“Do you really want a black coffee?” the local goddess moonlighting as a barista asks, her nose scrunched in amusement. “Or did you panic?”

Panic is an ongoing state of affairs, frankly. “Er…” he says, in a fruitless attempt to kick start his brain. “How could you tell?”

“Call it a barista’s intuition,” she says with a wink. “Plus you look like you were having a tooth pulled trying to read the menu.”

“The fuck’s nitro cold foam?”

“Nothing you’d ever order.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry says obstinately, ignoring the way speaking with her seems to be having the same effect as the four shots of espresso he’d intended to order would have. “I’m very difficult to read.”

She snorts, and he’s not sure whether to be offended or enchanted. “Let me guess,” she narrows her eyes. “You want straight espresso.”

“How–”

“You look too tired for two. A bit too young for four. Three shots?”

“I’ll just have a nitro cold foam, thanks.”

“Sure,” the barista says with a chuckle. “Only, that’s supposed to go on top of an order.”

“Well, shit.”

She laughs, and Harry decides right then and there that he likes this shop, after all. Might be his new favorite place.

“I wanted four, actually,” he admits.

“Rough day, eh?” the barista says sympathetically. His eyes flit down to her nametag, Ginny, and linger for a beat too long. Her smirk tells him she notices. “For future reference, if you want four espresso shots you can order the Déjà Brew, double.”

“Fuck’s sake, that’s terrible.”

“It’s revolting,” she agrees cheerfully and turns around to pull his espresso shots, revealing that the back of her is as tragically fit as the front.

She hands him his drink a few minutes later. “Enjoy. Don’t expect you’ll be visiting again, eh?”

I will if you’re here. “Never know. Could do.”

“I hope so,” she adopts a decidedly wicked expression that does something funny to his stomach. “It’ll be just like Déjà Brew.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. The joke is objectively terrible, as is everything about the hipster shop.

He'll be back tomorrow.

[pikachu78109]

More Modern!TCODC Headcanons because I’m bored :p

((I don’t have a list for each character; it’s all kind of random. Let me know if y’all are interested in some modern day AU Caligari Ask Blog if you wanna see these dudes in a modern interpretation))

Jane, Francis, and Alan get together for a Friday movie night and is always held at Francis and Alan’s apartment. Francis goes out and gets snacks while Alan cozies up the living room. These three tend to bicker about what genre to watch (Francis like both action and horror, Alan is a romcom fella, and Jane adores historical dramas). They end up playing rock-paper-scissors to decide. Francis tends to hog the popcorn bowl whereas Alan and Jane tend to nitpick on the film’s writing (they both have the writer’s eye), much to Francis’ annoyance.

Jane lives in the dormitory at the college she attends. Occupies it herself and it’s decked out with various posters from plays, musicals, and other theatrical productions. Has quite the plushie collection and keeps most of her manga/novels/writing journals on her desk or crammed into her college shelves.

Jane is not that organized but she can easily find things without trouble.

Francis and Alan live off campus and commute to classes.

Cesare doesn’t attend college due to his condition and because his guardians, Caligari and that other young doctor from the film, has him do stuff such as community work or exercises to improve his health (mental and physical).

Caligari has his own reasons for parading Cesare around, usually to fuel his notoriety and ego as a doctor. Gets jealous very easily and commands Cesare to either sabotage or “take out” his competition.

The other doctor, whom I’m gonna call Mathias, cares about Cesare’s health and worries a good deal about him. Wants him to interact with people and encourages Cesare to make friends, such as Jane. Caligari HEAVILY disapproves of this.

Mathias tends to let Cesare have a bit more freedom and allows him to go out and do things on his own, y’know, building up independence while Caligari isn’t present.

Jane and Cesare are pretty good friends, though people often mistake them as a couple. Both of them shut that down immediately.

I imagine Cesare’s demeanor that of Cinnamoroll from Hello Kitty when around Jane: sweet, shy, helpful, and overall kind. Jane is a blend of My Melody and Pompompurin.

Francis and Cesare do not get along. Francis thinks Cesare is a love rival and Cesare keeps getting annoyed by this. Their common greeting is a middle finger. Alan gets on fine with Cesare, though is admittedly intimidated by him.

Whenever Caligari and Mathias aren’t around in the evenings, Cesare sneaks out and wanders around the neighborhood in the dark, wearing his headphones and listens to music. He might not own a phone, but he has a CD player and owns a couple of CD’s that Jane has given to him with songs she picked out for him to listen to. Cesare likes to go to the park and sit on the swings and just…zone out.

Dr. Olsen and Caligari do not get along. They don’t tend to see things eye to eye and have had hour long debates which resulted in a few fists being swung.

Alan may be soft spoken, but the boy can SPIT. Try him at slam poetry and you’ll be surprised.

Adding on to being soft-spoken, Alan has a Podcast where he narrates bedtime stories and conspiracy theories about nonsense in a calming delivery. Has a good following.

Francis gets up at ungodly hours and goes on runs. He sometimes bumps into Cesare and these two will just stare at each other like two alley cats.

Cesare has a sensitive stomach, so he can’t eat anything high sugar, anything caffeinated, contain high amounts of sodium, etc. He’s kept on a nutrition plan that Caligari constructed himself.

Gonna say it: Caligari is an almond parent.

Cesare has gotten a couple of admirers, though he’s oblivious to it.

To be honest, Cesare is scared of romance altogether. Like, out of all the people in this universe, why him?

Unlike Francis and Alan, Jane doesn’t have a job. Where Francis works part-time in retail and Alan at a café, Jane does editing work on commission. Her parents send her money once a month to help with tuition, but Jane wants to earn money by utilizing her writing skills in her little freelance business.

Cesare usually lingers at the local psych ward with other patients. He’s typically with Marlene (the woman who was “playing” the piano) and Claudia (woman with the doll) as they are the calmest patients there. Cesare doesn’t stay at the ward; he goes home with either Caligari or Mathias (usually with Caligari, poor guy).

On rare occasions, Francis, Alan, Jane, and Cesare meet up and do stuff as a group whether it’s hanging out at the park, or at a nearby café, or just casually walking around.

[nicht-ganz-allein-sunny]

Hier könnte ihr geschmackloser Witz über große Nasen stehen!

Im Jahr 1897 schrieb Edmond Rostand die romantische Komödie CYRANO DE BERGERAC die, anders als zu dieser (und heutiger) Zeit populär, nicht in Prosa, sondern komplett in Vers-Form verfasst wurde.

Im Stück geht es um den titelgebenden Held Cyrano de Bergerac - einen hitzköpfigen Soldaten und Dichter mit leichtem Aggressionsproblem und... einer großen Nase. Cyrano ist in seine Cousine Roxane verliebt, traut sich aber aufgrund seines Äußeren nicht ihr seine Liebe zu gestehen. Roxane wiederum findet den jungen Soldaten Christiano ganz schnuckelig und dieser findet sie ebenfalls ziemlich super. Da Cyrano ja ein Ehrenmann ist tut er sich schließlich mit Christiano zusammen und verfasst in seinem Namen Liebesbriefe an die von beiden vergöttert Roxane - denn Christiano sieht zwar super aus, viel im Kopf hat er aber nicht. Nach einigen Hin- und Her heiraten Christiano und Roxane (die ihren Mann mittlerweile nicht mehr nur wegen seines Äußerem, sonder auch wegen seines Intellekts (der ja eigentlich der von Cyrano ist) liebt. Wir erkennen das Problem), aber das Glück hält nicht lang: Christiano und Cyrano werden in den Krieg beordert und während unser dichtender Soldat Cyrano eine krasse Plotarmor hat, stirbt Christiano basically instant. Nach einem Zeitsprung von 15 Jahren taucht Cyrano dann noch mal random bei Roxane auf, die immer noch in Trauer ist, um ihr zu erzählen, dass er ja eigentlich für die ganzen Briefe verantwortlich war. Und während sie sich noch fragt, was zum Fick das jetzt soll und ob das nicht allgemein ein bisschen assi ist, stirbt Cyrano in ihren Armen - denn er ist kurz vorher tödlich verwundet worden.

Am Staatsschauspiel Dresden inszeniert Nikolai Sykosch den ursprünglichen von Edmond Rostand geschriebenen CYRANO DE BERGERAC in der modernen Überschreibung von Martin Crimp, die das klassische Liebesdrama in die Moderne holt. Oder wie meine Oma sagen würde: "Moderne Theaterstücke find ich ja ganz schlimm."

Die Inszenierung, die mit dem Bühnenbild im Comic-Look, den Requisiten aus Autoreifen und dem recht einheitlichen Kostümen aus Pufferjacken, Tracksuits und Cowboy-Boots einen hyperspezifischen, amerikanischen Vibe abgibt, schafft es gekonnt einen deutlichen Kontrast zwischen Moderne und Klassik zu ziehen - nur, um diese dann spielerisch ineinander zu vereinen.

Die klassische Storyline rund um unseren Titelhelden bleibt bestehen und wird dabei mühelos mit dem brandaktuellen Text, aus dem sich Einwürfe gegen Zensur und für Kulturförderung ergeben, vermischt, ohne dass das an irgendeiner Stelle unpassend wirkt. Degenkämpfe aus dem Original werden zu Rap-Battles, aus der berühmten Balkonszene wird eine Skaterampenszene und auch auf Referenzen aus Star Wars und Titanic kann nicht verzichtet werden.

Die allgemeine Stimmung des Stücks ist das was ich mir so unter dem Begriff "linkes Berliner Kulturmillieu" vorstellen würde. Irgendwo zwischen Konditoreien und Poetry-Slam Wettbewerben trifft sich die literarisch interessierte Szene und lebt ihr Leben und Drama, bevor wir in der zweiten Hälfte des Stücks durch mein geliebtes gelbes Licht in eine bedrückende, schwarz-weiße Kriegsszenerie geworfen werden.

Das Ganze lebt dabei natürlich durchweg vom wundervollen, viel erwähnten Vers-Text, der mit viel Mimik, energischer Betonung und Situationskomik vorgetragen dafür sorgt, das man immer am Ball bleibt und eigentlich weder Zeit noch Lust hat geistig Abwesend zu sein. Untermalt wird der Abend durch Live-Musik von David Kosel, die im Hintergrund für eine stimmungsvolle Atmosphäre sorgt.

Besonders hervorzuheben ist die unfassbar energiegeladene Dynamik die Jannik Hinsch und Sahra Schmidt als Cyrano und Roxane an den Tag legen. Es ist fast schmerzhaft diesen beiden dabei zuzusehen wie ihre so gut miteinander funktionierende Charaktere immer wieder aneinander vorbeirauschen und schlussendlich nie zueinander finden.

Auch der Rest des Ensembles ist fantastisch! So fantastisch, dass man sie vielleicht sogar noch ein bisschen besser und öfters hätte nutzen können. (Wobei ich mir hier nicht sicher was der Text (den ich bisher nicht gelesen habe) dafür hergibt.)

Ist CYRANO DE BERGERAC das tiefsinnigste was ich je gesehen habe? Nein. Es ist eine romantische Komödie, das erklärt sich schon fast von selbst.

Durch die herrliche Sprache und den fantastischen Cast, sowie die ganzen kleinen Details im Schauspiel schafft es das Stück trotzdem nicht unspektakulär oder irrelevant zu wirken, wie das bei ähnlichen Inszenierungen manchmal vorkommt, sondern sorgt über die 2 1/2 Stunden Laufzeit für eine solide Abendunterhaltung, die man sich bestimmt mehr als einmal gönnen kann. Ich würde sogar versuchen meine Oma mitzunehmen!