#teashops

[ashcremated]

Just another day in customer service

[fieriframes]

[Teashops.]

[mini-minish]

have you heard of that new hot spot in ba sing se 🍵

[hanimanny]

DEHYDRATED — NAGI SEISHIRO

a.k.a. top 10 ways to get your boyfriend to drink water

tags: Nagi Seishiro x reader (established relationship), suggestive if you look into the subatomic world

word count: 0.8k, not proofread, likes + comments + reblogs appreciated

To think, kissing your wonderful boyfriend would be the best way to spend your free time.

Only right now, it isn’t.

Nagi, having just woken up from is nth nap of the day, flips over his to see you doom scrolling as one does. his shifting calls for you as you instinctively look down at your boyfriend with a soft smile. you wait for him to lean up to give you the obligatory wake up kiss, until you stop him mid way.

hand firmly placed on his chest, as you stare down at him. more specifically, his lips.

nagi doesn’t approve of this, clearly. with the way his neutral face morphs into a somewhat frown, and his eyebrows ever so slightly pinch in confusion.

“when’s the last time you’ve drank water?” you ask skeptically. your hand travels from his chest to make a swipe on his extremely desert chapped lips, feeling the roughness under your thumb.

Nagi tiredly blinks as you, flopping back down to his sleeping position.

“dunno” his answer is curt as usual, eyes slowly drifting off again, but his attention is still lingers on you.

“wrong answer.” you reply, and to Nagi’s dismay, your quick to slip out of bed and step out of the room.

nagi doesn’t have enough energy to chase after you, post-nap fatigue or whatever excuse you want to give him, but the few minutes of your absence nicks at his impatience.

It doesnt bother him enough to not fall asleep, but he’s sure to guarantee himself with a restless nap due to your sudden betrayal (you leaving the bed).

soon enough— that being a meer 3 minutes— you step back into the room with a glass of cold water in hand.

you stand there expectingly.

nagi grants you one eye, flipping it to see your from, but quickly deflates as he sees what you’re trying to make him do.

“drink up, seishiro” you say, sliding back into bed.

nagi makes a noise of refusal, as he shakes his head and stuffs his face deeper into his pillow.

“too much of a hassle”

“what is a hassle, is you being moments away from getting kidney stones” you deadpan.

nagi still makes no move to follow your demand.

Then he hears the clatter of the glass cup settling on his nightstand, clear indication that his laziness has won the battle this time.

as he shifts his head to face you, he finds that you’re already looking down at him. In a few easy movements, you’re on top of him, legs planted on either side as you straddle him, much to his delight.

Nagi, himself, leans up, getting a better view of your pretty face.

a gentle hand caresses his face, then you lean down. Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips.

you kiss him.

instinctively, nagi kisses back, opening his mouth for his favourite french-like kiss, because: is it really a kiss with nagi if not for a little tongue.

Strangely though, this time, what greets him, is a cold relieving liquid. his eyes widen in shock as he feels water pouring from your mouth into his. He can’t do anything but swallow the water, as he hungrily pushes himself deeper into you.

the second you pull away, to catch your breath, nagi sees what water escaped your (and his) lips trickle down your chin, soon wiped by the swipe of his thumb.

“good, you drank it” you chirp, a sly, mischievous smile spreading across his lips.

Nagi’s expression is almost unreadable, but being his girlfriend long enough, you’re able to pick up the most subtle of nagi-cues. the darkening hues of grey, and how his eyes narrow as if you’re watching the cogs in his brain turn in real time.

“not much of a hassle now,is it” you smirk, reaching over to take your own precious sip of water.

“no, this is much more of a hassle” nagi admits, leaning fully over so you’re now both sitting.

you don’t know why, but suddenly, you feel nervous.

“huh? i thought you’d like the idea” you cock your head but nagi only stares at you as if you committed some type of war crime.

Nagi pushes the glass back to your lips, beckoning you to take another gulp. His eyes are hooded, hidden under layers of fatigue, but you can tell exactly what he’s feeling right now.

desire

You take another gulp of water, and hold it in your mouth for a moment before he leans over and plants his lips onto yours.

Nagi kisses you like a man deprived of water (which admittedly, he is), as if he had to make up for all the times he was too lazy to drink.

when you disconnect, you’re breathless.

water messily trickling down his chin; smeared across your lips.

Nagi looks absolutely thirsty.

“yeah i did, but now, i can never go back”

dear god, you’ve awoken a monster.

authors note: this was fun to write! idea was from a manhwa i read (big spender in a busted game) anyways DONT FORGET TO STAY HYDRATED!!!

[meilifluous]

꒰ PETALUNE, BLOOMS & BREWS .���

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— aka, lillie's teashop dr!!

petalune is a florist's-teahouse founded in 1985 by lunette hunnicutt. It’s known for its connection to nature, as well as its use of magic to handle things like staffing and decor.

꒰ fun facts .ᐟ

♡ ⌢　it was founded by my grandmother!

♡ ⌢　we call ourselves a 'florist-teahouse', but our menu actually has a bunch of things! tea, coffee, juice, smoothies... not to mention the pastries :3

♡ ⌢　we don't really have much human staff, most of them are actually enchanted stuffed animals! they help serve customers, make flower arrangements, and gather ingredients ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

♡ ⌢　speaking of ingredients!! a lot of the fruits and herbs from our teas and desserts come from our very own garden! well, "garden" would be a bit of an understatement... at the back of the teashop lies a small, unassuming door that's hiding a giant, enchanted ecosystem! it's like a living, breathing world of its own, where you can find all the ingredients you need in one place- from flowers, to fruits, to herbs and spices!

♡ ⌢　of course, magical ingredients entail magical recipes!! a lot of the drinks and pastries on our menu have positive side effects, such as helping with things like sleep or concentration!

♡ ⌢　this dr was heavily inspired by the games little corner tea house and stardew valley!! they're both so so cute jvfjnsf i love them

ib the lovely @elysian-fawn (ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

[auspicioustidings]

Savage

Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.

Words: 3.7k

CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut

–

Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.

It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.

You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained. 

When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.

–

The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.

You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.

You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground. 

Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.

“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”

Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself. 

“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.

You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.

“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”

You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.

“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.

“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.

You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move. 

The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt. 

When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees. 

“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”

His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you. 

“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”

The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.

When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.

It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.

“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”

Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.

You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.

“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”

You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger. 

“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”

You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.

“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”

He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation. 

He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat. 

You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time. 

He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones. 

“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body. 

You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it. 

You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.

“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”

The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.

You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.

The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air. 

“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”

“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain. 

The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching. 

Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.

“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.

You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.

He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind. 

–

John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience. 

He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.

-

“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.

He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out. 

“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.

“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.

Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.

“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#93 LYNEY-

Hear me out...Teashop owner...Non-Fatui Older Sibling figure Y/n of Lyney, Lynette, and Ferminet...and Wriosthesley being in love with you...but him not knowing...you see the three as a family-You literally found these three kids on the road and said "...Guess their my new family-"

TeaOwner!Y/n*Humming as they listening to freminet's new music box he made for you, prepping with care your next tea box order for your best customer Duke Wriosthesley*Mmh~

Lynette*Swipping some of your best tea with treats you always are too weak not to splurge her with*...So when are you making the duke your official boyfriend?

TeaOwner!Y/n*Blinks and coughs abit flustered*Oh um...Im working ...on it...

Lynette*Blank stares and gives a small pout*Well work on it faster...

TeaOwner!Y/n:...Okay, who taught bad 'tude to you, cuz it wasn't me-...Also R-romance isn't In the cards rn I'm happy with you kids in my life~

Lynette:...It's because of Lyney isn't it-LYNEY!*Gets up to find Lyney to lecture him* If you can crush on Lumine, our sibling can crush on the duke-

These are my children and i love them...should there be more of this-

[stellar-skyy]

hello dear <3 i was thinking an iced hibiscus tea for arlecchino, perhaps? feel free to decide the specifics and details on this one hehe

“i have an order ready for arlecchino! an iced hibiscus tea, for arlecchino!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: Arlecchino's child is struggling, but she is there to reassure them. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. platonic arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. iii. A/N: the way i ran to get this order done- THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE THIS ILY /p

It was a cold day in the House of the Hearth when Arlecchino called upon one of her children for nothing more than a simple chat.

One of the unspoken rules of the House was that the most leisurely of discussions were only a preface to something deeper; layers of ulterior motives hidden underneath an innocent invite for tea. Some children had never glimpsed the privilege of being summoned to her office, while others found themselves carving a dent into her seat cushions with the number of times they sat in them. But one thing remained unchanging with every visit: their Father would send for them with a purpose, and they would not leave until it was fulfilled.

When [Name] received word that they were to visit Arlecchino’s office at 7:00pm sharp, their first instinct was dread; for the dozens of possible reasons for them being the one to be called upon. Musing upon the ‘why’s shifted their mood from the dull thrum of anxiety to sweeping waves of confusion. As far as they were concerned, they had no due cause for such a meeting with the Director herself; no failed missions to be reprimanded over, no shady plots of subterfuge to be exposed. They weren’t any rowdier or more troublesome than any other of the children, so the list of matters that would merit a visit was short.

Still, they knew better than to avoid the call. 7:00pm, they stood outside the office, hand poised over the door. They closed their eyes, knocking on it sharply and wincing at the echo that reverberated off the walls.

Three short raps. A smooth, calm voice, from inside the room: “Come in.”

The doorhandle creaked loudly as it turned. The door was old, and rather heavy, so it took a gentle shove to push it fully open to reveal the neat, cozy office inside.

“Ah, [Name], you’ve arrived.” Arlecchino greeted them as they entered. She was seated behind her desk as she usually was, with a full tea-set in front of her. As they slowly approached, she motioned towards the plush chairs opposite her. “Please, take a seat. I have been waiting for you.”

They quickly settled into the closest chair, hands folded in their lap. The room was quiet and cold; enough to send an uncomfortable prickle down their spine. Arlecchino paid no mind to their uneasiness; her hands were busy deftly arranging the teacups on the tray. Once she was satisfied with their placement, she then moved to pick up the teapot.

“I have some new tea from Liyue,” she hummed, gently tipping the teapot to let the dark red drink fill one cup, then two. Steam rose from each, cutting through the chill of her office. “Hibiscus. It’s quite sour, but I have added a spoonful of honey and sugar to the brew to sweeten it.”

She held one of the teacups out, and they clasped both hands around it with a murmured thanks. As they moved to take it from her, the side of their palm brushed against her fingers—icy cold, enough to make them shiver with a single touch.

“Your night has been well, I am assuming?” Arlecchino asked, taking a sip from her cup.

“Yes,” they murmur, bringing the tea to their lips. It was hot, but just enough not to burn their tongue. The honey she had added did little to mask the sour taste of the hibiscus, but it created a lightly sweet aftertaste that was pleasant enough to warrant a second sip.

“And your days, how have they been?”

They frowned, scanning her expression for any hint of what she wanted. She was clearly speaking to them in search of something, even if she didn’t say it aloud. A mission report, perhaps? They had already submitted the paper copy to her desk, but if she had missed it, or it had gotten lost with the rest of the paperwork handed in that day, she could be waiting for them to recount the mission directly.

“I returned from the mission you sent me on,” they blurted out. “I… it was a success, mostly. No casualties. Minimal injuries. And I also—”

“No need for a summary, I’ve read your report.” Arlecchino cut them off smoothly. “I want to know how you are, not how your mission went.”

They almost choked on their tea. Arlecchino raised an eyebrow at their sudden lack of composure, and they hurriedly covered it up with a half-hearted cough. “S-Sorry… you want to know how I have been… feeling?”

“That is correct.”

The air was thick with silence and the bitter smell of hibiscus, until they blurted out a quick “Fine! I’ve been fine, thank you.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Interesting. I have been hearing curious things,” Arlecchino said casually. “Some of your siblings seem to have noticed a change in your behaviour. You aren’t sleeping as well, your mood has been significantly worse, you haven’t been joining during social activities. There is clearly something wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” they said weakly. Their feeble attempt at normalcy was nowhere near convincing enough to fool her, and they knew it. They were a passable liar in the best of circumstances, but she was the one person who would always be able to see right through them.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

They couldn’t look at her. One look into those sharp eyes, one wrong word and they would crumble right there in her office. They had to keep it together for as long as it took to convince Arlecchino they were alright and be dismissed from her office. They only needed to hold back the burning behind their eyes until they were far away from Arlecchino and her pressing words and bitter tea, and could quietly fall apart.

She was waiting for an answer, but they could hardly breathe through the lump in their throat, let alone formulate a response. If she stopped now, saw them for what they were—a lost cause—and gave up, it would be fine. But instead:

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, and something inside them snapped.

Tears burst from their eyes, spilling over their cheeks and down their face. They gasped, choking back a cry, holding a fist to their mouth to stop the hiccupping and wheezing breaths.

“I’m sorry,” they sniffled, rather pathetically. They kept their head ducked down low, unable to bring themself to look up into her undeniable face of disapproval. If they were any stronger, they could grit their teeth and make up a spiel about how they would do better next time, but instead they had to cry.

Now, not only were they going to be reprimanded for letting their emotions affect their work, they would be scolded for crying as well.

“Now, there is no need for crying.” Arlecchino stood, scraping her chair against the floor. They flinched away from the jarring sound, shrinking inwards with their tear-streaked face hidden in their hands. As much as they tried to stop them, the tears kept flowing into their palms. The walls were shifting closer with each second, and the thick scent of the tea filled their lungs until it choked them with that cloyingly bittersweet scent—

They jumped, as something cold touched their fingers. Their hands were carefully pried away from their face, revealing Arlecchino kneeling in front of them, with an unusually concerned expression on her face.

“I’m not upset with you, dear.” She said gently. “If that is why you are apologising.”

“You’re not?” they asked slowly. It had to have been a lie, but with how softly she said it, a part of them couldn’t help but wish it was true.

“Of course I’m not. But do you know why I’m not upset with you?” she asked. Hesitantly, they shook their head. “I’m not upset in the slightest, because I know whatever is clouding you is something that you will work through. You will emerge the victor of this battle, no matter what it is.”

They made a strangled sound, and felt a new wave of tears form. Arlecchino sighed, pulling them to their feet and against her chest.

“You are strong,” she said softly, carding her fingers through their hair. “You are capable. You are able to overcome whatever hardships you are facing, no matter how much they wear on you.”

She kissed their temple, her cool lips feeling almost warm pressed to their skin. While she lingered there, she whispered to them, softer than a mother’s touch. “You are strong enough to face this on your own, but even if you aren’t you will always have me here behind you.”

Their hands stretched out to grab the back of her jacket, shuddering out a breath. If Arlecchino minded their teary face being pressed against the front of her clothing, she didn’t comment on it; she only murmured more reassurances as she held them close.

“Just breathe, dear.” She whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[these-things-illneversay]

Anyone else finds Teashop Lee x Flowershop Mai adorable?

[caffeinateddino]

i wanna see Kuchel Ackerman interacting with reader SO BAD. so here it is! levi x reader modern au (Gender neutral pronouns for reader. SFW)

---

You stepped into Levi's teashop again, just like you did every morning for the past four months. Before any other customer came in, you’d arrive, order the exact same tea, flirt with him (or at least try to), get rejected, and then leave.

"Hi, handsome!" you chirped as you walked through the door, flashing him your brightest smile. "You're looking as pret-tea as usual." So proud of your cheeky pickup lines, weren’t you?

Levi sighed, his brows furrowing as he wiped the counter. "Good morning," he muttered, not looking up. "Regular?"

Oh, isn't he just the sweetest? Already knowing your favorite order—you wish. He knew a ton of things about you by now, but not because he was interested. No, it was because you reintroduced yourself AT LEAST twice a week. He knew your name, age, job, the name of your first fish, and even that middle school friend you still had beef with. He knew it all.

"Aww, look at you! Memorizing my order?" you teased, leaning on the counter to get a better look at him.

"No," he deadpanned. "It’s just the cheapest tea in the shop, and you order it every time you come in." He stepped back like you were a germ that he had to stay away from

“There’s a customer already?” an unfamiliar voice called from the prep area. You frowned—new employee? But no, as soon as she stepped out, you realized this wasn’t just anyone. She was one of the most jaw-dropping women you'd ever seen. Long black hair, steel-grey eyes, pale skin, and a sweet smile as she walked to the counter. Definitely related to Levi.

Ignoring Levi, she smiled directly at you. “Hi, what can we get for you today?”

Okay, you were persistent, but you weren’t dumb. She was obviously related to him. His sister? His mom? Either way, time to impress.

“I already got the ord—” Levi started, but you cut him off.

“Hi! I love your eyes!” you said, beaming at her. She smiled, a little shyly. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

“I’m changing my order,” you declared, causing Levi to pause and raise an eyebrow. “I’ll have a cup of jasmine tea,” you continued, scanning the menu above. “And, uh... lemon cheesecake, and that thing.. I can’t pronounce.”

You were picking the most expensive items on the menu. Levi couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

“Sure, dear, we’ll get it right out for you,” the woman—probably his mom—replied sweetly, turning to help Levi. Getting a smile from someone related to him? Wild. You thought his whole bloodline had to be as stoic as he was.

After you got your tea and moved to a table by the window, you glanced back at the counter. Kuchel nudged Levi with her elbow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "So... who’s that?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Tch. No one. Just a regular customer," Levi replied with a shrug, continuing to wipe the counter as if it was his life’s mission.

“Really? They seemed interested in you,” she added, clearly enjoying the moment. Levi sighed. Maybe bringing his mother here had been a mistake. “They are,” he admitted, moving to brew a fresh pot of tea.

Kuchel’s smile widened. "They're pretty, aren’t they?" He paused, visibly uncomfortable but unable to deny it. “… I guess?”

"Alright then," Kuchel said, clearly up to something, before leaving the counter to sit across from you.

'Oh god,' Levi thought, feeling a headache coming on. He knew what his mom was about to do…

You blinked in surprise as Levi’s mom—Kuchel —sat right across from you, a warm smile on her face. You glanced at Levi, who was now standing behind the counter with the most deadpan expression, silently begging the universe to stop this.

“So, how long have you been coming to this shop?” Kuchel asked, leaning in like this was a cozy little chat between best friends.

You tried not to choke on your tea. “Uh, about four months now. I, uh, really like the tea here.”

And the view, you thought but wisely kept to yourself.

“Four months! That’s dedication,” she remarked with a knowing smile. “Levi must really enjoy seeing such a loyal customer every morning.” Levi’s eye twitched from across the room.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nice to see a familiar face,” you said, laughing nervously. Kuchel nodded, clearly entertained. “You know, he doesn’t usually get attached to customers, but I think you might be special.” She paused dramatically, then added, “He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Wait, what?

Levi nearly dropped the teapot. “Mom,” he said sharply, voice low with a warning edge. what the fuck now

“Oh, hush, I’m just making conversation,” Kuchel waved him off, fully embracing her mom duties. “He mentioned just the other day how you always come in so cheerful and—” she leaned in as if sharing a secret—“how you flirt with him every morning.”

Your face burned, and Levi’s hand gripped the counter so tightly it might break.

You stammered. “H-he told you that?”

“Well, no, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” she winked. “And you know, Levi here could use someone with your energy. He’s always so serious, isn’t he?” She turned her head slightly to address her son. “Levi, dear, you should take some notes—this one knows how to have fun.”

Levi groaned audibly. “Mom, please.”

You almost choked on your tea again. This was both mortifying and the best thing that had ever happened.

Kuchel continued undeterred. “He’s really sweet once you get to know him, you know? Sure, he’s got that broody, ‘I-don’t-care-about-anything’ look, but deep down, he’s very caring. Protective, too. He always makes sure I’m taken care of. Isn’t that right, Levi?”

Levi’s glare could’ve melted steel at this point. “I am right here, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t be so shy,” she teased, ignoring him completely. “What’s your name, dear?” she asked, turning back to you.

You told her, still a bit flustered but managing to smile. Kuchel’s face lit up.

“What a beautiful name! It would sound so lovely with ‘Ackerman,’ don’t you think?”

You almost spat out your tea. Levi nearly knocked over a stack of teacups. “Mom!”

Kuchel giggled, clearly enjoying every second of this. “What? I’m just saying. No harm in thinking about the future, right?”

Levi closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, as if summoning every ounce of patience in his body. “I’m going to the back,” he muttered, turning away before his mom could cause any further damage.

Kuchel just smiled after him, unfazed. “Well, he’ll come around eventually. Boys like him always do. Anyway, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, dear. And don’t worry—I’ll make sure he brews your tea just right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this point. “Thank you. I’ll definitely keep coming back.”

As Levi disappeared into the back of the shop, probably questioning every life decision that led him to this moment, Kuchel leaned in one last time. “Don’t give up on him,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He needs someone to loosen him up. And between you and me…” She grinned, eyes twinkling. “I think you’re perfect for the job.”

You were certain Levi was somewhere back there facepalming so hard, but honestly? You were starting to like Kuchel a lot.

[dranktwocoffees]

do u guys remember that one kid who said lee from the teashop is a FIREBENDER lmao 😭😭

lineart only ver cuz i think it looks nice

[apoemaday]

In a Bath Teashop

by John Betjeman

“Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another -- Let us hold hands and look.” She, such a very ordinary little woman; He, such a thumping crook; But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels In the teashop’s ingle-nook.

[doctorloup]

Audiodrama Sunday!

It's been a while - (in my defence I have been making things..)

The Dead has now finished it's final arc of this season, and oh boy was there some amazing work. Giancarlo Herrera in particular is adept at making me cry. Such heartfelt dad energy. I most enjoyed the arcs in the UK but Silent Key was also pretty touching.

The Devil's Plaything continues to be adorably unhinged. I particularly enjoyed the erratic fae realm episode.

In my efforts to listen to the podcasts of everyone who's been in Woe.Begone I binged Hellgate City, which is good horrible fun and full of very clever Yiddish wordplay.

Before I say this, please understand that due to Backstory I am scared of asphyxiating in space and drowning, so should be forgiven for putting off listening to Fathom/Derelict for as long as I did, but I did and wow, that is some amazing cinematic sound design and super-tense narrative. Wow.

All the homies have been listening to Remnants and Not Quite Dead so I binged those as well. Not Quite Dead is very very sexy and has a very very sexy (pre-)French vampire who tells the MC when he is being stupid, which is great. It also had immunoserology. There should be more vampire stories with immunology. This pleases me as biologist. Remnants I am ashamed to say I didn't notice for a really long time it was actually one big narrative disguised as an anthology because I was too busy enjoying the grouchy North Welsh mystery being. I am prone to going along with the vibes and noticing the story later when someone points it out to me and going oooooh. You can still support the NQD crowdfund here!

Hi Nay is fascinating and complex and I am grateful for the window it has given me into the Filipino diaspora and a whole family of cryptids and monsters I was not familiar with. (Not me with Wiktionary open looking up the episode titles…) I went off and watched the Netflix adaptation of Trese on recommendation as well which was very cool.

Ars Paradoxica - Eventually I will catch up on all these "audiodramas classics" I say like any of them is more than 20 years old. I do see why Ars Paradoxica is a classic - engaging characters, the physics just realistic enough to be fun for my non-physicist brain and a delightful main character. It ended very neatly and satisfying too. I shall miss the Time Travelling Adventures of Dr Sally Grissom

In Strange Woods - I listened to this as part of the Podcast Bookclub, I wasn't able to make the live listens so just binged it. I am a noted Not Liker of Musicals but podcast musicals I've often found to be more enjoyable. This had some gorgeous songs. I liked the one about the main antagonist(?) best, because it was also summing up a complex and damaged character both in the words and music.

I have also been enjoying the little audio-zine Miss Shipton's Travelling Teashop about a tea witch who warmly listens to people's issues while gently flirting. You cannot currently get this on a podcatcher, like all zines it is passed from person to person. Go ask Oli Morris for it…

Have a good Sunday!

[hanimanny]

MY NONCHALANT GIRLFRIEND — NAGI SEISHIRO

a.k.a sometimes, you’re too nonchalant, even by nagi’s standards.

tags: Nagi Seishiro x reader (established relationship), ft. reo, crack, nagi is ooc but lowk deliberate, mentions of several injuries

word count: 0.8k , not proofread, likes + comments + reblogs appreciated

By all means, Nagi is nonchalant. the pinnacle of nonchalance. nothing phases him, like an impenetrable stone wall. 

but he thinks you take the cake— you’re too nonchalant. 

and not in the normal way either. because while he’s nonchalant everyday, you’re bouncing off the wall entertaining yourself with mindless blabber that Nagi consumes as white noise. 

no. your nonchalance comes through in the worst ways possible. 

here you are at the door of his apartment. you had rung the doorbell one too many times (which to be fair, only woke him up the last time) and forced him to crawl out of bed and answer. 

At first, he didn’t think it was you, maybe Reo, because unlike Reo, he’s gifted you with a key to his home. so when he opens the door and is greeted by your pretty face, it makes a slight dent in his nonchalance. 

only, he sees how banged and battered up

his face is, as if you just walked out from a street fight. your clothes are scuffed and torn at the seams, and you’re leaning onto one leg like an injured soccer player. 

“Hi Sei!” despite your cheery voice, you're appearance said otherwise.

he blinks at you owlishly as you continue: “i lost your key”. 

The bashful look on your face does nothing to hide the bruises littering in your face. 

“why does it look like you just lost in mortal kombat?” Nagi quips as he steps aside to let you enter. 

“i got hit by a car” 

what?

Nagi, with his cursed nonchalance, doesn’t have it in him to react to what you just said. 

“and your bitch as neighbour pushed me down the stairs”

Nagi only watches you struggle to slip off your shoes, since your arm is equally as injured as the rest of you. 

Nagi knows he’s nonchalant, he’s been called that all his life. He's lived by his ‘too much of a hassle’ motto since before he knew how to speak. 

but right now, you’re a whole different breed. 

“babe.” Nagi  says, and if it weren’t for the dire situation you just described to him, he’d think the way you perk up at his voice was adorable.  

“We have to go to the hospital.” You’ve never heard him hold this much conviction in your life. 

“what? no, i’m fine” you disregard which only makes Nagi viscerally gape.

oh shit, maybe it is serious. 

“Sei, i’m seriously okay” and as if on cue, your forehead’s wound magically starts to bleed, trickling down your face like a tear. 

“Oh my god. we have- i have to call Reo” panic settles in his bones slightly, and you doubt he’s ever even heard of the concept of stuttering. 

As you stand there bewildered, and not because of your possible concussion, Nagi scurries through his phone, frantic to click on Reo’s contact. 

you’re even more shocked when he hits a call instead of texting like he always does. 

In the next dizzying 10 minutes, a sleek black Rolls Royce pulls up at the front of Nagi apartment complex and you’re gently stuffed into the back seat with Nagi securely next to you and a panicked Reo at the passenger seat. 

“guys, it’s not that big of a deal”

Nagi ignores you, of course, and leans over the seats to speak to Reo. 

“floor it.”

the chauffeur takes it as a cue to speed off like an f1 driver,

“Did you get the number plate of the car that hit you?” Reo asks, his eyebrows pinched in worry. because while Nagi holds double the amount of worry in his very being, Reo is a million times more expressive. 

“no, by account of the fact that i was ran over”

“it’s okay, i'll get access to the street cameras” he says to himself, trailing off into a string of mumbles, as you still try to wrap your head around the situation. 

“this is such a hassle” Nagi mutters under his breath as he leans deep into the expensive leather, which makes you scoff. 

“I told you that this wasn’t that serious, so you don’t get to complain” you huff as you try to cross your arms. 

key word try, because you audibly wince as you try to bend your arm.  

“Not you, never you” Nagi retorts instantly, as he turns to face you in worry, seeing the way you’re tensed from the pain. 

Despite your current predicament, you still find it in yourself to blush as you glance away and at the window. 

“okay…” you relent as you lean against the seat, and ever so carefully move your hand to hold Nagi’s— who takes it and reciprocates your actions in the most delicate, fragile way possible. 

“but i'm telling you guys, it’s not that bad”

“I love you, sweet girl, but please. shut up”

...

epilogue. 

“she’s sustained multiple scrapes and bruises, a concussion, 3 fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a sprained ankle and needs stitches for the wound on her forehead”

you look at Nagi and Reo with the most flabbergasted look. 

“it’s a miracle that shes able to stay conscious this entire time”

Nagi and Reo give you the deadpan of the century. 

“and she has a fever of 38.7°c”

“okay we get it.”

author's note: been thinking about my king nagi lately... this is copium.

[hilasss]

Té

[twofortea]

skdljfakfsdf so cute! Kakashi’s expression! The tea shop! The reverse proposal! Ino! The sass! ka;sldjfk

Tea For Two, Dedicated to @twofortea for her ever-present inspiration, feedback and positive attitude!

@kakasaku-week-2023 Day 7 - Arranged Marriage