#unique places to visit in London

[cherrycranes]

Private Show (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female reader Summary: You're a burlesque star who caught the eye of the infamous Tommy Shelby, and one night after your show he decides to pay you a little visit backstage. Word count: 3,292 Contents: (Minors DNI) Unprotected sex, hair pulling, semi public sex? pull out, cum shot. Author's notes: Once more, my bestie @fuckiingloser and I collaborated to make this. Give her some love! I've had this in mind for quite a while now so I hope you enjoy it. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. ILY!

The roar of your beloved London audience followed you across the backstage hall. You were a star. A burlesque princess adorned in sequins and rhinestones, enamouring the audience with your unique presence and charm that got you where you stood at this very moment. Adrenaline coursed madly through your veins, mapping out every inner crevice of your risqué scarlet costume. Another job well done. Another night of the glory of bright lights, music and performance.

Every single sound got muffled out right after you entered your small private dressing room. A privilege of being the main attraction. No more snarky comments and unhealthy competition between a stressed out dance troupe. It was just you in your velvety stool, admiring your own self in the vanity mirror. What a beautiful woman. Carefully, you removed your feathered headpiece and let your hair down in relief, finally winding down.

You removed your bracelets and hairpins, carefully placing them in their respective decorated boxes when a soft knock on your door interrupted you. Definitely the stage manager, you thought, already picturing what he would say to you about your next show. To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you met with a completely different man…

Thomas Shelby, in all of his infamous gangster glory standing right in front of you, that signature cheeky smirk upon his devilishly handsome face. 

He looked like he wanted to swallow you whole. 

You knew of this man. The Shelbys had risen to power throughout the years and now, anyone with a working brain knew who they were. The name Tommy Shelby made many shudder, and now, you had him just a step away. 

“Can I help you?” You looked straight into his perfect blue eyes, fearlessly. You owed nothing to anyone and you had no reason to cower in front of him, no matter how dangerous or handsome he was. 

“I don’t know, love, can you?” His smile grew a bit, his voice was husky and rich in a Birmingham accent. He didn’t bother to conceal the way his eyes roamed all over your scantily clad body, so beautifully adorned in red jewels and feathers and so deliciously leaving little to the imagination.

“Backstage is private, you know…” You pretended to chastise him, leaning against the doorframe like you didn’t have a feared criminal shamelessly checking you out. He didn’t even try to hide his intentions. He laughed a bit, your heart raced. No security could ever stop him from doing what he pleased and you both knew it.

 “I've seen your pretty picture on flyers all over town…  Figured I’d come see what all the fuss is about…” He remarked as your eyes locked on each other finally. 

“And?” You asked with a pretty smile. “Was it everything you dreamed and more?” His smirk grew to a big grin. He knew you were a tease, feeding him with playful banter that he absolutely enjoyed.

“You were a sight to behold out there, love… Body like that, face like that and voice like yours… I’ve never seen anything quite like you… You were a goddess up there.” Thomas practically purred to you in that thick accent that made your pussy tingle and sent shivers down your spine. His tongue, quick yet unmissable to your eyes, wet his lips after speaking. So subtle but incredibly sensual. You wanted to drop down to your knees…

But you also wanted to make him work for it a little…

Charmingly, you invited him in for a drink. An irresistible offer. You shut the rest of the world out and closed the door behind him. Just you and him in your little shoebox dressing room. He sat down on the small futon across from you and you sat at your vanity, pouring you two glasses of whiskey from your secret stash. The room was so tiny your knee brushed against his when you spun your stool around to face him and hand him his drink.

“There was buzz amongst the other girls of a Shelby brother in the crowd tonight…” You started, lipstick staining your glass and your legs crossing. “I was hoping it was you…” Thomas smirked like a devil, your admission feeding his ego. 

“And why’s that, love?” He took a large sip of whiskey like it was a sip of you, savoring the burn like he wanted to savor you. It made you nervous, restless… And you were a performer, your nerves were supposed to be of steel. But Tommy had something about him, an aura, a natural disarming confidence that made you want to bow down in submission. You swallowed a bit, just to gain some confidence back, knocking your head out of the trance his accent and icy blue eyes put you under. 

“Well you’re the leader right? The big man in charge…” You charmed through your smirk like he was your audience, looking over at his crisp, expensive navy blue suit. Tommy laughed, pulling a cigarette out and rubbing it against his plump bottom lip before lighting it up.

“That’s right…” He smirked, a puff of smoke adorning his words. He leaned forward a bit, his large calloused hand finding its shameless way to the exposed skin of your knee and rubbing it softly with his thumb. Naughty girl, not even wearing a pantyhose for your performances. A mischievous glint shimmered in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help but bite your lip and clench your legs together at his touch. The sexual tension hung thick and heavy in the air of your tiny dressing room, threatening to burn you both alive. 

“I'm known for getting what I want… When I want it, love…” There it was, expected yet it caused a strong reaction in you. The closer he leaned in, the more he spoke with that deep voice of his, the more you wanted it. He stabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray next to you on your vanity, your faces now inches apart. 

“And I'd love a private show…”  He whispered, his voice raspy. His hand reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed over the red jewels on your breast, nearly feeling the pulse of your racing heart. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear from just the thought of what he wanted to do with you. To you.

“I'm not a whore, Mr Shelby…” You retorted softly, finding pleasure in resistance despite how turned on you were for him already. Tommy, accustomed to most women giving in easily, smirked, thrilled by the challenge.

“But you could be, couldn’t you? Just for me…?” His voice was attractive, persuasive. One of his hands came up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, his eyes bearing into yours deeply. There was always something so captivating about a man with no shame about getting what he wants… And this man just so happened to want you.

Hungry eyes moved from your alluring cleavage towards your gaze again. You had found yourself completely speechless at his proposition, not even a single witty comment popping into your head at that moment. For a second, you got lost in the crystal blue, enthralled by the obvious knowledge of what would come next for you both.

Without another word he sat up and leaned forward, closing the gap between you. His plump lips met yours, the taste of cigarettes and whiskey melding in your mouth. You closed your eyes, letting him sink you to the depths of his desire, your tongue melting slowly against his. You took your time with each other, just soaking in the sensuality of it all, sharing a few gentle moans before his hand came up to grip the back of your head.

You made out slowly, almost teasingly for around a minute, then finally pulled back for air. There was that smirk again, Tommy reveled in as his hand snaked between your thighs and his thumb rubbed gently over the satin of your costume, right over your pussy. He pressed against your clit through the fabric and you bit your lip, stifling back a moan.

He took in every single detail of your reaction and loved each one. You felt a nice shiver running down your spine as his mouth came closer to your ear.

“You little minx… This little pussy’s already wet for me and all I had to do was kiss you…”. His hot breath on your ear mixed with his words had your brain buzzing, expertly knowing how to push your buttons.

Soft kisses peppered the skin of your neck, sending another shiver through your spine and goosebumps all over your body. His rough, greedy hands reached back to undo the fastenings of your costume, then gently pulled it down your chest, your warm tits finally bare for his eyes to rake over.

“Jesus… You are just gorgeous…” He rasped, unable to stop himself from tracing the soft underside of your breast. Not that he would have to stop. But even then, for such a rugged, scary gangster, he was so gentle. So reverent. It truly took your breath and words away, filling the now empty space with butterflies instead. From your chest to every nerve ending of your fluttering pussy, a deep need for him ran rampant. 

“You've got me rock hard…” Tommy whispered, proudly proving it to you. His growing bulge in his trousers looking right at you, mirroring your own desire. He rose slowly, looming over you and your vanity set.

“Stand up for me love… Let’s get this costume off you,  I need to see this beautiful body naked and bent over this vanity for me…” 

Your eyes widened, but you weren’t against his request. Without thinking it twice, you stood up, one of his hands slid off your red satin costume bottoms, the other took your hand and helped you step out of them. The metallic jeweled necklace around you felt heavy with all the loss of clothing items, you reached behind to unclasp it, but Tommy stopped you.

“Keep it…” He whispered, slowly turning you around until you faced the mirror of your vanity. You looked utterly gorgeous. Completely naked besides the beautiful ruby necklace you had on. You watched his smile widen in the reflection and his strong arms wrapping around you.

One hand came up to squeeze the soft flesh of your breast, the other now traced slow tempting patterns over your skin, down your stomach and between your legs. One finger rubbed between your slit tortuously slowly, making you moan and close your eyes. You melted against him, perfectly placing your ear close to his hot breath. 

 “Ah ah ah… Keep those pretty eyes open… I want you to watch yourself fall apart on my cock…” Tommy purred, his voice so deep and sexy you wondered why your arousal wasn’t dripping down the inside of your legs already. Obediently, you nodded and opened your eyes, locking gazes with yourself in the mirror. 

“Yes, sir…” You moaned back, his fingertip rubbing painfully slow, hard circles on your clit. He grinned, proud of just how easily you yielded to his touch, how easily you submitted yourself to him.

Slowly, he grinded his aching hard-on against you back, a reminder of what was to come. Gentle, wet kisses left a fiery wake on your neck that extended to your earlobe, he nibbled it, his finger never once forgetting your clit.

“Bend over…” He commanded, a little whine of protest leaving your lips when he withdrew his finger from you. Hoping to get that much needed stimulation back, you did as he said, bending over your vanity and displaying yourself for him. Tommy responded with the sound of his belt unbuckling and the rustling of his trousers being undone. 

In the reflection of the mirror, you watched him pull down his trousers and briefs in one go, his large thick cock springing free and slapping obscenely against his pelvis. Its head was already red and dripping, aching to be buried deep inside you.

Not wasting a single second, he palmed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart a bit to get a better look at you and your puffy wet folds. He groaned, knowing that in a few minutes his cock would be buried deep between them.

He looked up into the mirror, locking eyes with you and giving you a sexy smirk. It was an unforgettable image, with you laid there, bent over your vanity panting in anticipation. The lighting of the room cast a warm glow over your naked body, making the rubies around your neck glimmer. 

“Looks like it’ll be a tight fit love… But we’ll make it work… Won’t we?” He cooed, voice dripping with need like you were dripping wet for him. 

You nodded, your eyes on the mirror, paying close attention to every movement of his and hoping it would lead him closer to fuck you. The way he licked his lips, how he reached down to line up behind you. It all seemed so slow in your own arousal-clouded mind. When he gripped your hips, you felt relief, and when he finally started to sink into your dripping center, you moaned. It was a breathy, soft moan with a grateful undertone. Such a sweet relief after centuries of teasing and foreplay. 

Tommy groaned loudly, one part for pleasure, one part for being proved right. You were indeed really tight. Your pussy stretched and swallowed his aching cock, already feeling so full and he still hadn't pushed all the way in yet. You whimpered, getting split open further like never before in your life. Any discomfort from adjusting to his length and girth completely outshined by total and complete pleasure.

“Fuck me… This pussy is so perfect… Gripping my cock so fuckin’ good…” Tommy groaned, managing to push even further and finally filling you full. He gave you a merciful second to adjust before moving his hips, slowly pumping in and out of you.

Involuntarily, your eyes shut, moaning repeatedly for him in this newfound sea of pleasure. You felt his hand tug around your hair hard, your neck craning up to look into the mirror. A warning. Remembering, your eyes shot open, you whimpered like an apologetic prey to the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I said… Keep those eyes open…” He growled, stern eyes looking at you through the mirror. As discipline, he pistoned his hips faster, you whined loudly. He drilled into you relentlessly, skin slapping with fury against skin and filling your changing room with obscene noises.

“Y-yes sir…” You managed to moan out, noticing how the pale blue of his eyes never once left the reflection of your deeply fucked form. Your mouth hung open, your eyes were half lidded and struggling to follow his command. In your mind, every single thought disappeared, all of them fucked out of your head until only him remained. 

The thick tip of his cock nudged that special spot inside you, over and over with every perfect, hard thrust of his hips. You babbled incoherently, still watching like he wanted. Your reflection bouncing and jiggling with each hard and fast movement. 

Tommy smirked, but even through his triumph he was lost in the pleasure too. He panted hard, his fingers sunk into the flesh of your hips and made sure there would be evidence of the encounter tomorrow morning. As if you minded. 

The vision of you falling apart on his cock got to him in the best way possible. From the way you were moaning to how you almost drooled as he fucked into you hard. It was obvious you weren’t going to last much longer, and neither would he.

“Jesus Christ-  This pussy’s so good- I think it was made for me… Won’t last much longer…” He groaned to you, a hint of vulnerability escaping in between the words.

At this point, your body and mind had a major disconnect, so well fucked forming a coherent sentence took all your brain power.

“P-please… please come..” You stuttered pathetically, eyes fixed on his reflection. His hand tightened its grip on your hair for leverage as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier, his strong hips pistoning into you. 

His left hand left its vicious grip on your hip and snaked around to find your clit, beginning to rub hard circles on it. The combination of his long cock poking your g-spot with every thrust and his fingertips rubbing your clit had you seeing God… Your orgasm built in the pits of your stomach, threatening to boil over any second now…

“I want you to come first love…  Want this perfect pussy to cream all over my cock…” He rasped, his voice deep and thick with need, almost like he was begging you to.

And that’s what did it for you.

The pressure in you finally reached its peak and exploded into the best orgasm you had ever experienced. Every nerve of your body relented to the sinful pressure, making you cry out a string of loud whiny moans and mindless curses. Your pussy clenched him tight, like you never wanted to let him go. For a moment you disobeyed his previous command, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and lost track of the private show your reflection in the mirror was giving.

He moaned loudly, feeling you clamp around him. The satisfaction of seeing the reflection of your face contorting and twisting in pleasure was priceless, Tommy truly understood just how much he loved to see you fall apart for him… Because of him…

He fucked you through your orgasm, chasing him. The feeling of your pussy spasming around him had his usually crystal clear mind completely hazy with pleasure. The way you looked, sounded, felt… It was too much for him… So much it sent him over the edge.

His hips slowed their movements a bit and it hit him.

 “Oh fuck love- I’m coming…” He warned with a strangled moan. Quickly, he pulled out, shooting thick hot ropes of his cum onto your ass cheeks, eyes still focused on the mirror. 

You watched too, biting your lip at the feeling. Tommy’s brows furrowed together while he moaned for you, his warm load slowly dripping down your ass and taking over your senses. You both stayed there for a second, catching your breath, basking in the afterglow together.

After a while, Tommy tucked his tired cock back into his trousers, grabbing a shirt off your vanity and wiping you clean. You finally stood up, turning around to face him despite how weak and wobbly your legs felt. Being bent over your vanity felt like forever, although it was the fastest a man had ever made you finish.

“Well, that was certainly something…” Tommy smirked cheekily, eyes still on you and arms wrapping around your naked waist. You couldn’t help but laugh and blush a little, his presence alone making you feel so shy, as if you hadn’t been moaning like a whore for him just a moment ago.

“You really do put on one hell of a show, love. You’re a natural born performer…” He smiled at his own words, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours before giving you a hot kiss. Then, he pulled back, just enough to whisper his proposition against your lips.

“How about we make this a regular thing? I come to all your shows… Maybe even bring you flowers… In return you be my naughty little showgirl and let me fuck n’ fill that perfect cunt and make you scream?”

You smiled without even having to think of your answer… How could a girl say no to that?

Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser

Random Tommy playlist made by me cause why not

[idlesuperstar]

Donald was the best partner in movies I ever had. We were brothers and we loved each other. We had such a deep, sublime chemistry. There was nothing intellectual about it, just this amazing natural harmony. I first met him in the commissary at 20th Century Fox when Robert Altman told us to have lunch together after I’d been cast in M*A*S*H. At first I thought: I don’t think this guy likes me. But it was just the opposite. The thing was: we were such opposites. I’m a Jew from Brooklyn and he was a Canadian from Nova Scotia. But it was perfection: never any conflict, just bread and butter – a relationship that felt like a miracle. Making M*A*S*H made us immediately close because while everyone else was working with Bob Altman, we worked for Bob Altman. He kept us a little segregated. We were both really unsure about the improvisation, the direction of the movie and Bob’s approach in general. Donald was hired well before me, but once I signed on we had the same deal: no less than second billing, and the same money. Later in production, Richard Zanuck, who was at that time running 20th Century Fox, said they wanted to give me first billing. I thought: “Oh that’s a nice honour. But Donald is my friend! I’m not going to be opportunistic – he was here first and should have first billing and I’ll stay in second place.” That’s what Donald meant to me. I never told him about that. A few years later, I turned down the screenplay for the movie that became S*P*Y*S, about two bumbling CIA agents. Then Donald called and said: “Would you do it with me?” And I said: “Oh that’s a different story. Of course!” On the first day of shooting in London, we drove to work together and he said: “What do you think of the script?” I rolled the window down, threw it out and said: “It’s a piece of junk. The only way this will work is if we swap parts.” But the producers could not digest that, so we just did the picture. Yet we did bring some of our own ideas to the table. There wasn’t an ending, for instance - so Donald and I agreed that we would just walk up the road with our backs to the camera and sing Side By Side. We worked together and we succeeded together, but we didn’t socialise very much – though having the opportunity to develop a relationship with some of his family was a total joy. Once, Donald was making a movie in the Bahamas and I came to visit because I had a week off from making The Long Goodbye and was interested in his leading lady, Jennifer O’Neill. Kiefer, his son, was five or six and Donald introduced us. Kiefer wanted me to stay, so when I said goodbye, I said: “Kiss me, Kiefer.” He had an ice cream cone in his hand and put it on my face – he kissed me with his cone. Donald was a true human being – and not all of us are. He could identify with any of us. His presence and his nature, his life and his mind are an asset for everyone. We all come and go physically, but as a being, he was really special and unique. I don’t put anything in the past. With me, it’s all in the present. My feeling is that for as long as I am living, Donald will be with me. I have no doubt about that, and I’m not being sentimental. I can see Donald now. I will see Donald for ever.

Elliot Gould - Donald Sutherland remembered by Keira Knightley, Elliott Gould, Ralph Fiennes and more in The Guardian

[dc-marvel-life]

That Dang Snake

Pairing: Hermione Granger

Summary: Hermione starts to get the attention of an unlikely Slytherin girl

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: Final Part! Or is it....... Send in request

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Narrator POV

It has been a few weeks after Hermione and Y/N’s dates, and things are going great between the two. They have gone on serval dates in Hogsmeade or London. They very much enjoy being in each other’s company. Hermione took Y/N to her parents, which surprised them. They thought Hermione would bring Ron home and say they were together one day. 

Hermione’s parents didn’t care that Y/N was a girl. They were just delighted that Hermione was happy. They also loved Y/n, who was very charming towards them and won them over.

Hermione even helped Y/N find a new place to live since she got kicked out of her parent’s house and the family name. They found a small, cute place in London where Y/N can stay on breaks once she finishes school. It is close enough to Hermione to come and visit and even stay the night if she wants.

Now Y/N and Hermione are chilling in the Gryffindor girl’s dorm on Hermione’s bed. Hermione is reading a book while Y/N is working on a unique project that Hermione doesn’t know about.

“So, are you ever going to tell me what you have been working on for the past week,” Hermione says, peeking over her book.

“Not yet, it is a surprise, and you’ll have to wait a bit longer,” Y’N says, continuing to work. Hermione lets out a loud sigh and closes her book.  She climbs her way to Y/N and puts aside her project. 

“Please be careful, Mione, it is very important,” Y/N protests while Hermione sets it aside. Once Hermione puts it aside, she sits on Y/N’s lap and wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck. Hermione leans in and starts to make out with Y/N. Y/N gives in and kisses her back. After about a minute, Hermione pulls away and looks Y/N in the eye.

“So are you going to tell me now,” Hermione says, inches away from Y/N’s lips. 

“No, just wait until later tonight, and it will be all done,” Y/N says, then lean in to continue to kiss Hermione, but Hermione pulls back.

“Let me try and persuade you another way,” Hermione says and tries to lift up Y/N’s shirt, but Y/N stops her. Y/N and Hermione have been going on dates for about a few weeks now, and they aren’t officially dating. They haven’t had sex yet, and the only thing they have done was made out. Y/N did not want to rush into things since they weren’t officially together.

“Did I do something because you never want to go further? Do you not find me attractive anymore?” Hermione questions Y/N and Y/N feels instantly bad.

“No, not at all, Mione” Y/N kisses Hermione on the lips, then pepper kisses her face.

“You are the most attractive girl I have ever seen. Don’t ever think like that again,” Y/N comforts Hermione.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, making sure.

“Yes, I am,” Y/N says, then reaches over to grab the project she had been working on for a while.

“Read through this but be careful because I haven’t added the final pieces,” Y/N says, handing Hermione a handcrafted book. Hermione looks over the book and looks at the craftsmanship that is shown.

“I made it all myself. I could make the book from leather that Hagrid gave me and even made the paper from old newspapers and notes that I had lying around,” Y/N says proudly and watches Hermione open it.

Hermione opens that book to see Y/N’s handwriting. The book is a long love note to Hermione, and on the last page, it says, ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ Y/N waits until Hermione reads the whole book. While Hermione reads, she starts to tear up because Y/N wrote so many nice things. Hermione finishes the book and closes it gently, then stares at Y/N.

“So, do you like the book?” Y/N asks, and Hermione hugs her.

“I love the book so much, Y/N, thank you. Also, yes, I will be your girlfriend,” Hermione says while hugging Y/N in her lap.

A few days have passed, and everyone knows Y/N and Hermione are dating. Most people are happy for them, but some aren’t happy. The people are the girls that wanted to be with Y/N and Ron. Ron was never a fan of Y/N, but now Y/N is dating Hermione.

Y/N now stands up for the gang if Draco comes around to mess with them. Now the gang can see how nice Y/N really is and how much happier she is with Hermione. Everyone can also see how Hermione is much happier and more relaxed since dating Y/N. 

Y/N even started to eat meals with the gang at the Gryffindor table with Greengrass. It was a way for Y/N to be closer to Hermione and be close to her friends since Y/N is still being excluded from Slytherin. 

Y/N didn’t care too much about being excluded; she was okay as long as she had Hermione. 

Now everyone is talking about the upcoming Yale Ball. 

“So Hermione, what are you going to wear to the ball,” Ginny asks.

“Well, I don’t know yet because someone hasn’t asked me to the dance yet,” Hermione says, looking over at Y/N.

“You know you still have to ask your girlfriend to the dance even if you are dating right,” Greengrass says.

“Yes, I know that, Greengrass. Just waiting for the right moment to ask her,” Y/N says.

“The ball is just a week away. You should as soon, or someone else will take her from you,” Ginny says jokingly.

“Yeah, this is not how you treat a woman. Hermione, if Y/N doesn’t ask you, then I can be your date,” Ron says hopefully, and Y/N gives him a death stare.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Ron. Maybe you should focus on getting an actual date and not try to steal my girlfriend away,” Y/N says, tired of Ron trying to step in.

“I need to get going and prepare for my next class,” Y/N stands up and grabs her stuff, “I’ll meet you tonight, so wait up for me, please,” Y/N says to Hermione and gives her a kiss. Hermione nods and watches Y/N walk out of the great hall.

Later that night, Y/N sneaks into the Gryffindor dorm and enters Hermione’s room.

“Hey, Mione,” Y/N says, approaching Hermione and kissing her quietly, so they don’t wake up the others.

“Hey, why did you want me to wait for you?” Hermione ask.

“Well, wouldn’t that ruin the surprise,” Y/N says, smiling, and Hermione raises her eyebrows.

“Come on, and I will explain later,” Y/N says with her hand out. Hermione grabs it and follows Y/N outside the castle.

“What are we doing out here now?” Hermione questions.

“Just wait for a second, and you will see,” Y/N says, looking up. Hermione looks up to see what Y/N is looking at and sees a hippogriff flying. Hermione is in awe. The hippogriff sees Y/N and comes down to her. They greet each other, and Y/N starts to pet it.

“This beautiful beast's name is Missy. Missy, I want you to meet someone special; this is Hermione,” Y/N says to Missy, and Missy bows to Hermione. Hermione is shocked and bows back at Missy.

“This is going much better than I expected,” Y/N points out. 

“Where did you find her” Hermione questions while petting Missy.

“One day, I needed some supplies in the forbidden forest. I saw Missy tangled up in some trap. She was injured, so I nursed her back to health. Now she comes and sees me every night,” Y/N says, smiling at Missy.

“So that’s what you have been doing late at night and not getting any sleep,” Hermione says, and Y/N giggles.

“Yep, I mean, I had to practice riding her before I took you on a ride,” Y/N says, looking at Hermione, who is shocked.

“You know how to ride her?” Hermione questions while Y/N climbs onto Missy. 

“Yes, I do. I have been practicing for the past two weeks. I wanted to show you the views, which are almost as beautiful as you,” Y/N says with her hand out, waiting for Hermione. Hermione blushes and takes Y/N's hand to help get on the back of Missy. Once Hermione and Y/N were securely on Missy, they took off into the night. It was an extraordinary scene flying over Hogwarts and seeing everything simultaneously; it was perfect.

“So, how do you like it?” Y/N asks Hermione while slowing down Missy.

“This is amazing! Thank you so much for taking me up here,” Hermione hugs her tighter.

“I am happy that you like it. The reason why I brought you up here is to ask you to the Yale Ball. I know it is not big and fancy like everyone else being asked out. I wanted this to be an inmate and personal” Y/N smiles at Hermione, hoping she will say yes.

“This is very inmate and personal, so I must give you that. Plus, I would rather have a more personable asking than going big and letting everyone know. This is perfect, and I couldn’t have asked for it any better. Now I do have to see if I am busy with the dance. I have had many people ask me out,” Hermione says, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“As long as those people aren’t Ron, then I am okay, and I have to have the first dance,” Y/N says, looking back at Hermione.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I will only be dancing with you,” Hermione says, leaning forward to kiss Y/N on the cheek. Y/N starts to cheer in happiness, and Hermione laughs at her girlfriend. 

Flashforward to the ball, Hermione wears a cute green dress, and Y/N wears a red jumpsuit to represent each house. They have a magical time together, dancing, hanging with friends, and having a little drinking involved.

During a slow dance, they look into each other’s eyes with so much love for each other.

“You know, I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else, but you're right,” Y/N says to Hermione.

“I know, my sweets, and I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else either” Hermione leans up and kisses Y/N. Y/N kisses Hermione back with so much passion.

“I am ready for the next step with you,” Y/N says, looking into Hermione’s eyes, but Hermione looks at Y/N, a little confused.

“What do you mean by that,” Hermione asked to understand more.

“I am ready to make love to you,” Y/N says and kisses Hermione.

“Ooo,” Hermione says after the kiss. Maybe it was the alcohol in her, but Hermione was ready to act now. She takes Y/N’s hand and leads them out of the ball.

“Mione, where are we going? The party is still going on,” Y/N says, standing in place, not moving until Hermione gives her answer.

“So, do you want to go to mine or your room?” Hermione says with her eyebrows raised, holding a flask that Ginny brought. 

“My room,” Y/N says and runs to her room. Hermione follows, giggling all the way there. They get to the Slytherin door, and Y/N says the password to reveal the door. They walk into the common room and head up to Y/N’s room. 

“Are you sure you are ready for this?” Y/N asks Hermione one more time. 

“Yes, I am,” Hermione says, pushing Y/N onto her bed. Hermione gets on top of her.

Taglist: @fanficaddictcore

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione Month (Part 6)

Dramione Month 2024:

Eclipse by galaxy_skies - M, one-shot - Three days later, when he feels a little less cursed and a lot less hungover, Draco scours the Malfoy library for books on memory charms and owls her a list of titles via Potter’s address at Grimmauld Place as repentance. Two days after that, Hermione sends him a book on curses and a London address that he assumes is hers as forgiveness.

The Mentor by arborlibrary - M, one-shot - Several months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy is assigned to be a mentor to Hermione Granger as she prepares for a fight to the death against her friends. He goes to visit her in the dungeons to get a headstart, but learns that none of the contestants have any idea what he's talking about.

Pale, Rich, Jealous, Extremely Attractive by arborlibrary - G, one-shot - “Granger, this book is objectively bad.” He glanced up at her from where his copy was propped on his desk before him; it was the first time she hadn’t scolded him for being off-task at work. “I know! That’s what makes it so good!” “Bella’s sartorial sense alone is enough to have her Avada’d. Seriously, what’s with all the beige?” // Or, Draco is intrigued by the book Hermione has started reading at work, and he can't help but share his opinions as he goes along.

Broom Bunny by arborlibrary - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger has a type: Quidditch players. Her latest crush is the least likely yet.

Amends by galaxy_skies - T, one-shot - “You look nice when you smile,” she says, because her parents raised her to be bold and an ugly old hat put her in a house meant for the brave and because she was never afraid to speak her mind when the truth was right in front of her, shining like the light reflecting in Draco’s eyes.

His Home by Lexxus - M, one-shot - Draco and Hermione fell in love one ordinary Thursday ten years after the end of the war. Their story had a rainy beginning, a sunny middle, and a snowy end. [WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH]

in every universe (but one) by thisisdd (thisisnotdd) - E - Collection of drabbles and one shots that served as entries for Dramione Month 2024 -- originally posted on my twitter @thisisntdd.

The Various Employment of Questionable Tactics by augustaoctavia - E, 5 chapters - What started off as a simple missive between a professor and a student's mother soon spiraled into something so much more--something so unexpected. Loner Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy, discovers his precocious student has pilfered ingredients from his private stores. After a failed attempt to communicate about her misdeed without descending into childish bickering, Draco and Hermione Granger agree to discuss the matter that evening at the Hog's Head. Whiskey will be required to get through this conversation, he can already tell.

jamais vu by euphrasie_pont - E, one-shot - jamais vu (noun) – the opposite of déjà vu; the experience of being unfamiliar with someone or something you know should be familiar; the illusion that the familiar is being encountered for the first time. - When Hermione reconnects with Draco Malfoy and starts spending time with him again, he’s so different he might as well be an entirely new person. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for her to go and fall in love with him. But during the crisp metamorphosis of autumn, when the leaves are changing and maybe he is too, Hermione can’t help but do it anyway.

Hermione Memoria by MarinaJune - M, 10 chapters - Hermione leads a happy life, one full of friends, books, and all the unique coffee mugs she can find. There are moments, however, where she's struck by a sharp sensation of remembering...something. Or, perhaps, someone.

Dare you do it? by Hyemi_28 - E, one-shot - Hermione plays a Truth or dare game with the girls, and she has to sneak into the Slytherin locker room and has to bring a proof, that she was there... but suddenly the Slytherin team arrives back...

Busy Nights and Moving Flights by terryboot - E, one-shot - The vanishing steps at Hogwarts usually bring misfortune to those who encounter them, but today is Professor Malfoy's lucky day. – or a ‘stuck in something' kink PWP

Perfect Day by CarolineSedgefield - T, one-shot - A drabble written for Dramione Month's careers week, in which Draco and Hermione's vocations may not be what they initially seem.

Falmouth Falcons - Player No. 4 by Sessediz - T, one-shot - Hermione loses a bet to Ginny, meaning she has to both attend her Holyhead Harpies match that weekend, but also pay full attention without the distraction of a book. Her apt attention to the game sparks an interest, and not just her own.

Careers Free Day by Peaches_on_Waffles - G, one-shot - Hermione seeks out medical attention to help with a rash.

Disarmed by You by anna_hawk - G, one-shot - In the aftermath of a heated duel, Auror partners Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, are forced to confront the unspoken feelings they've been hiding.

Brewing for Attention by anna_hawk - G, 11 chapters - After years of playful rivalry and tension, Draco Malfoy finally devises a ridiculous yet charming plan to get Hermione Granger’s attention—by staging a series of potion mishaps that land him in St. Mungo’s repeatedly. Hermione, now a busy and brilliant healer, finds herself reluctantly amused by Draco’s antics. What begins as exasperation turns into something deeper as she realizes Draco's efforts were all to spend more time with her.

Heal me now by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - After years of working as a successful healer at St. Mungo, Draco Malfoy saved Auror Granger's life one night... After he was been appointed to her personal healer, his life turned upside down, when they started their secret relationship at the examination room...

Paper Dolls by Sessediz - M, one-shot - Boy meets girl, girl meets boy . . . it's a tale as old as time, but time isn't what's being studied by these Unspeakables.

adventures in cursebreaking by greenappletheory - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger seeks out the assistance of Cursebreaker and ex-husband, Draco Malfoy, after entangling herself with an unknown and most definitely cursed object. This takes place eight months after Hermione’s 45th Birthday, so consider this a part two and my formal apology.

All It Takes (Is One Kiss) by Lexxus - E, one-shot - On New Year's Eve, Pansy's "one-kiss-theory" leads Draco and Hermione to a dark corner of a Muggle club, where one quickly becomes much, much more.

All That Glitters by AsIfYouCouldOutReadMe - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger is days away from passing the most important legislation of her storied career with the Ministry, but today is her Anniversary and Draco has just the thing to distract her. OR Draco dresses up as Edward Cullen to cheer up his busy bride

Cursed and Charmed by anna_hawk - G, 7 chapters - When a dangerous cursed artifact surfaces at a high-stakes auction, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves reluctantly working together to destroy it. What begins as a mission of duty quickly evolves into something unexpected as they navigate old rivalries, buried secrets, and a tension that neither can ignore.

Healers/Doctors by Peaches_on_Waffles - G, one-shot - A Healer from St. Mungo's is summoned to Azkaban. [WARNING: Character Death]

Full moon by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - Draco thought Hermione died so he wanted to follow her to the death, but suddenly a small body slammed into his embrace.

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fluffbruary Fic] Tradition

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 2404 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, pre-relationship, fluff, holidays, baking cookies

Notes: Originally, this was for Week 2 of @mr-sadman's SeasonalSadman2024 event, using the prompt Traditions. But it didn't want to flow for seasonal timeliness so I put it aside and slated it for the end of Fluffbruary instead. And it turns out, all it needed was a rest and some breathing room. Inspiration came from both @chaosheadspace and @carnelianmeluha 's creator threads on the server, so I will dedicate this to both of you ❤️ Even if it's February now.

Fluffbruary 2025 prompts: Day 22: bullet | loyalty | unique Day 27: kitchen | bell | sun Day 28: clean | galaxy | keep

Summary: Dream shares his time and Hob shares his stories, and together they are maybe sharing something else.

On AO3

"Dream! You're just in time!"

Dream hesitates, abruptly concerned that he had forgotten an appointment and somehow managed to keep it serendipitously—but no. He is very certain that he was not expected here today.

'Here', as it turns out, is Hob's kitchen, where the watery winter daylight streams through the window over the sink and Hob is wrestling a large mound of dough into an enormous mixing bowl. There is another mound set by on the worktop; Hob's sleeves are rolled up in a very fetching manner, his hair is mostly contained in a small knot on the back of his head, and he's wearing an apron that proclaims him World's Okayest Baker in garish pink letters. There are smears of the rich brownish dough all over it, matching smears on Hob's arms and hands, and the room is fragrant with spices—cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger.

Dream cocks his head the slightest bit. "In time for what?" It is easy enough to intuit; the kitchen is replete with wisps of daydreams that whisper the answer, but 'making biscuits' is merely the title of the story, not the full depth of it which Dream would hear in Hob's own words.

"Making biscuits!" Hob smiles broadly at him, warm and full of life. "School has a tradition, faculty bakes treats for the students before term lets out for Christmas. Some folks buy in from the fancy bakeries 'cause they don't know their way around the kitchen, but me I like to do it from scratch." He sets aside the bowl. "And I like to make extra. Student body's small enough, we're not some big university, but I like doing my part to make sure there's enough to go round."

"Indeed." Dream's coat and boots disappear to their places by Hob's front door as he adjusts his manifestation to better suit the shape of the afternoon before him.

"Sooo, I was doing my baking today—and I'd love to have your help, if you're here for a visit and don't mind something so menial."

"It is no such thing, Hob Gadling." Dream offers a tiny smile. "I would be honored to assist the 'world's okayest baker' with a task so important."

Hob glances down at his well-used apron and laughs. "Ah, yes. The apron lies, I'll have you know—I am nothing short of a fantastic baker after all these years. It was a gift from Jaime, a joke." He shakes his head fondly, the barest hint of melancholy crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Dream is certain he could follow the thread of the name and its connection to Hob to the Dreaming, bring full awareness of this dreamer to the fore, but again—there is comfort and camaraderie in hearing the stories of Hob's life as Hob would tell them, directly. So he chooses instead to offer question.

"A former lover?" He is reasonably certain he would know if Hob were currently involved with anyone.

"Yeah." Hob's expression has gone nostalgic. "Dated a couple years, lived together awhile; ended it about five months before you came back. Jaime had a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity, moved to Toronto. And, well, I wasn't leaving London, was I? Not when I was still waiting for you." He smiles, and it is tinged with…not sadness, precisely, but something that is soft and wistful and commiserative.

The heart that Dream has approximated thumps heavily in his breast. "My absence cost you this relationship—"

"No, no no, now, none of that," Hob interrupts, speaking over his shoulder as he turns to wash his hands. "It was lovely while it lasted but we both knew how it would end, sooner or later. Jaime was meant for grander things than me, and, well. All my relationships have to end one way or another, don't they." He turns off the tap and dries his hands, flashes Dream a brilliant grin and a quick wink. "'Cept ours, of course. Can always count on seeing you again, my friend."

"Of course," Dream echoes, inordinately warmed by how easily Hob centers Dream in his life, welcomes him. Broadly, as he has just spoken, yes; Dream is assured that Hob's delight in his company is genuine. But also, specifically, how easily he makes room for Dream in whatever he is doing when Dream visits without notice. He has demonstrated time and again that Dream's presence is appreciated, and no burden; that Dream is important enough that Hob will shape his plans around Dream as needed, will include him at a moment's notice.

It is. Gratifying, to receive such regard, from one who is neither his subject nor seeking to curry favor.

Dream is never quite certain what to do with it.

"But anyway!" Hob opens a drawer and rifles through it briefly, withdrawing a rolling pin and setting it aside. "These Christmas biscuits have been a tradition of mine even before Jaime, and I'm glad the school gives me an excuse to keep it going. I'm making the lemon rosemary lavender ones that you like next—they're very popular every year—and chocolate candy cane if I have the time after that. But first! Gingerbread." He turns to the fragrant mahogany dough on his worktop and begins pushing and kneading at it, working it into a somewhat flatter shape.

"I always make two batches," he says, as he moves to apply the rolling pin to the reworked dough. "One for stars and rounds, one for proper gingerbread men. Once I get this rolled out, d'you want to start with the cutters?" He nods toward a small assembly of metal and plastic shapes at the other end of the bench.

"Of course." Dream is pleased to take part in this creative process, in whatever way Hob can find use for him.

"Great, then I can start working the other batch on the table while you do." He's rolling vigorously, a steady rhythm molding the dough to his wishes, bared forearms flexing in a way that Dream finds somehow difficult to look away from.

"Is this a recipe of your own devising?" Dream is eager, he finds, to hear more of this story of Hob's traditions.

"Oh no, no, this is Oma Franziska's gingerbread recipe." Hob has that fondly-nostalgic look again. "She insisted we call her that, me and Jim. She'd lost contact with her own grandkids when she left Germany, you see, and she sort of adopted us when we moved in next to her. She knew Jim's truth, too, and it was nice to have a neighbor who he could be himself with."

Hob has told Dream of Jim previously. Jim, who had been Hob's wife Peg to the rest of the world but Hob's husband in safe company; Jim, who had loved the sea, who sang bawdy pub songs with the loveliest voice, who left Hob with many fond memories and stories to carry with him as he continued living.

"She looked after us both, in a fashion. Knew her way around the kitchen blindfolded and backwards—I'm very sure food was her love language. Always made sure the neighbors were fed if they needed and was just—she was really something, y'know? I'm glad I got to know her." Hob gives the dough a final roll with a flourish. "Stayed put until she passed, even though I was kind of pushing it for that lifetime. I didn't want to leave her behind when she had so little time left, especially when she'd been there for me after losing Jim and all of that."

"Your kindness does you credit." Dream is warmed by the tale, by yet another glimpse of the man Hob had worked to become in the past century.

"Heh." Hob beams at him, and something low in Dream's stomach tightens marginally. "Anyway, Oma Franziska loved sharing recipes with us—sending her traditions forward, she called it—and I've kept 'em alive for her. This gingerbread is based on an older recipe, but she tinkered with it quite a lot and clearly she knew what she was about; these biscuits always get rave reviews." He turns, plucks two of the biscuit cutters from the jumble on the counter and presents them to Dream. "Here you go."

Dutifully, Dream accepts the cutters and moves to the rolled-out dough, the collective unconscious granting easy familiarity with a task he has never performed.

"Perfect," Hob declares, as Dream begins pressing the simple shapes neatly into the dough. "Let me get your tray prepped so you've got somewhere to set these little beauties as you go."

Something deep in Dream warms at the easy praise, pleased and content; he lets the feeling wash over him as he works, as Hob sets a lined baking tray in easy reach and begins rolling out the second batch over on the table, as Hob continues talking.

"I love this recipe," Hob says, and Dream can hear how he's smiling even though his back is turned. "They turn out just the right amount of soft with a lovely balance of flavors, and they're exactly sweet enough. Gotta start it early to give it plenty of time to 'ripen', for the lactic acid to do its thing, but it's very much worth it. This batch I started about a month ago so they'd be ready now. And the biscuits themselves will keep at least 'til February, assuming they last that long."

"You deem them worth the effort," Dream surmises, arranging the biscuits he has cut on the baking sheet.

"Mmyep, definitely. Especially when I'm making them to share with others."

Dream can still hear the way Hob is smiling, and it warms him. Hob has such care for the people in his life, for those he sheperds and those he works beside; Dream is grateful to witness it, to be included in that care, for the ready welcome he continues to find in Hob's company.

"The time taken is to their benefit," he offers, transferring more cut biscuits to their tray. "The dreams sown into the dough are rich, and deeply rooted. They have grown robust, being let to steep so long; your biscuits will be a masterpiece of comfort and flavor."

"There's. Dreams. My dreams? In the dough?" Hob sounds particulary flummoxed; Dream looks up to find him turned about, blinking dumbfounded at him, rolling pin held idle in one hand.

"Yes." Dream lays another gingerbread star on his tray. "Your intent, your joy in sharing, your delight in doing for others. Your wish to carry the memories of the recipe forward. They all shape your baking, enhance your end result."

"Heh. I had no idea." The tips of Hob's ears have reddened considerably and there is a trace of pink visible across his cheeks.

It becomes him.

Hob blinks, shakes his head, recovering his composure. "Bet all the dreams in the dough won't save them from burning, though." He grins.

"Most certainly not," Dream allows, smiling in turn. "We shall need to time them appropriately. I can assist, if you like."

Hob has turned back to finish his rolling, speaks over his shoulder. "How's that work, then? You'll listen to the dreams as they bake, and know when they're perfectly done based on vibes?"

"Perhaps, if you think it best." Dream can feel his smile growing. "I had thought I might simply watch the timer."

Hob has stopped and turned to stare at him again; Dream reaches to take the rolling pin and use it himself. He lets the smile on his face remain, lets it be known to Hob.

"You're making jokes now?" Hob grins widely, eyes crinkling with mirth, his tone one of wonder. "Red letter date! Best mark my calendar."

Dream, flush with pleasant warmth at the easy teasing, turns back to roll his scrap dough into a flat sheet, delighting in the little chuckle Hob gives as he begins stamping the simple stylized human shapes into his own sheet of dough.

The day passes pleasantly, gingerbread baking fragrantly while they move on to the next biscuit on Hob's planned list; Hob prepares the shortbread dough while Dream monitors time on the oven. It is very much a matter of 'vibes' that lets him pull each tray at exactly the right moment, transferring them to cooling racks, setting the pans aside to be prepared for their next batch. They roll out and cut the lavender lemon rosemary biscuits next, and since Dream is sharing the labor there is plenty of time to make the chocolate candy cane ones as well.

They clean up behind the baking and Hob prepares lunch while the biscuits are all cooling; once they have eaten, they move on to decorating. Dream is given the gingerbread and loses himself in the flow of creativity, piping swirls of colorful icing onto the stars and rounds, applying edible glitter and sugar pearls with a discerning eye while Hob smears chocolate icing and sprinkles crushed candy cane bits on the chocolate biscuits. Together they finish up with the gingerbread men, adding eyes and mouths and clothes in wide variety, each distinctly unique. Dream can feel as they work how Hob's daydreams float and shift around them, how intent has settled into the biscuits at every stage of the process, even here at the end.

He can taste it, as well, when he and Hob sample their work after finishing.

It is little wonder Hob's biscuits are popular at the school's annual function. They are, quite literally, made with love.

~

When he visits Hob again in February, he is presented with one of the gingerbread men they had made in December, carefully kept in an airtight container.

"Saved the last one for you." Hob winks, and Dream's stomach dips pleasantly.

The biscuit is indeed as good as it had been two months prior, ripe with the care baked into it, sweet and fragrant and satisfying on a level far beyond the physical. Dream nibbles, listens while Hob regales him with the story of the student love letter he'd accidentally intercepted on Valentine's day, basks in the comfortable warmth of Hob's voice and Hob's presence and Hob's home.

And somewhere, deep within the core of himself, he acknowledges the truth that he can taste in the biscuit, even now: that some of the care and the love that have gone into their creation, is very much specifically for him.

= Started: 12/12/24 Drafted: 2/23/25 Posted: 2/28/25

[likeadevils]

I've been thinking about loml since i saw the swiftologist analysis on it and something he said stucked with me: according to his interpretation, she chose joe because he was a safe place and matty was her real love. Based on ttpd it seems like she felt a glow with him that she never experienced before and this made me question her relationship with joe quite a bit. Do you think joe was the temporary move on drug until matty was ready?. And based on ttpd did you feel he was ''the one''?

i think ttpd, while being shockingly truthful in many ways, is also story told by a deeply unreliable narrator-- or, rather, it's taylor intentionally embracing her status as an unreliable narrator. she called ttpd "An anthology of new works that reflect events, opinions and sentiments from a fleeting and fatalistic moment in time." she also said about fortnight:

"Fortnight is a song that I think really exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album. One of which being – fatalism. Longing, pining away, lost dreams. You know, I think that it’s a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about life or death and “I love you, it’s ruining my life” like these are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. But, it’s that kind of album."

while i do think taylor's feelings for matty were real, to a certain degree, i think they were spurned on by a lot of other issues that were coming to a head towards the end of her and joe's relationship.

isolation: throughout the album, taylor ties her love of matty to escaping isolation or boredom, two feelings caused by the way her relationship with joe was ending. like, she just says this, multiple times ("I felt more when we played pretend/ Than with all the Kens/ 'Cause he took me out of my box", "I dream of cracking locks/ Throwing my life to the wolves, or the ocean rocks/ Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox", "Locked me up in towers/ But I'd visit in your dreams", "I look in people's windows/ Transfixed by rose golden glows/ They have their friends over to drink nice wine/ I look in people's windows/ In case you're at their table"). throughout the album matty also feeds into the isolation, not by physically locking her up, but by playing into her insecurities and then telling her he's the only one who can fix them. most notably: "You said normal girls were boring" (with the implication taylor is more difficult to love), and "You said I needed a bravе man/ Then proceeded to play him/ Until I believed it too" (again saying loving taylor takes a lot of effort and painting his ability to love her as unique).

a complicated relationship with aging: taylor also ties her love of matty to youth. there's the obvious refrences to them dating when they were younger ("At the park where we used to sit on children's swings", "Stitching, 'We were just kids, babe'", "Preserved from when we were just kids") but there's also plenty of times throughout the album that she combines yearning for matty with yearning for a previous version of herself (As the decade would play us for fools/ And you saw my bones out with somebody new [...] I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools/ Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules/ All to outrun my desertion of you", ("Does it feel alright to not know me?/ I'm addicted to the "if only"). outside of either relationship, being afraid of aging is all over the album ("My friends all smell like weed or little babies", "You see I was a debutante in another life, but/ Now I seem to be scared to go outside"), but i think the most notable line is from So Long, London: "I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free"

longing for a soulmate: tied to the fear of aging, taylor was clearly afraid of being alone for the rest of her life. we see how it comes from joe ("I died on the altar waitin' for the proof", "I'm so afraid I sealed my fate/ No sign of soulmates), and then matty wanting to marry her is just. the main redeeming quality in every song about him. a really convenient narrative when you're trying to paint someone as your soulmate is that you've actually been in love with them the whole time you've known them. your brain also likes to trick you into thinking the way you're feeling now is the way you've always felt and will always feel. but that narrative is also undercut all over ttpd. there's references to her feelings being something that she'd lost over time (“I’m running back home to you”, “Falling back into the hedge maze”, “We embroidered the memories of the time I was away”), and other references to him actively winning her back (“You blew in with the winds of fate and told me I reformed you”, "A conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme", “Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new”).

conflating lingering guilt with pining: chloe or sam and peter both talk about yearning for matty, but it's deeply intwined with worrying about his wellbeing. in chloe or sam, she says "You needed me, but you needed drugs more/ And I couldn't watch it happen" and then beats herself up for deserting him (which, to be clear, not wanting to be complicit in someone else's addiction is not deserting a person). she specifically laments that she was "too impaired by my youth to know what to do". again, we don't here anything about matty as a person that's drawing her back to him, just her guilt over abandoning him in the first place. in peter, she says "I hoped you'd return/ With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned/ 'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned" which is explicitly saying that she wanted to know he was doing okay more than she wanted to get back together with him. the bolter comes towards the end of the tracklist for a reason-- part of moving on from him means not only forgiving, but celebrating the part of her that knows when to get the fuck out of a bad situation.

we don’t hear a lot of independently good qualities about matty, just ways he’s an escape from joe— her life with matty is chaotic in comparison to her life with joe being isolated and boring, he’s willing to marry her in comparison to joe dragging his feet, he's tied to an earlier version of herself that she liked more instead of a dull, predictable future that joe represents.

so, no. i think matty was a perfect representation of all her festering insecurities. she fell for him hard because when he forgave them she felt forgiven, but when he left, she lost a big chunk of her self worth along with him.

[centrally-unplanned]

Another big stop in Tokyo for me was Jimbocho Book Town! It is a neighborhood of, depending on who you ask, up to 400 generally-secondhand bookstores flanked by some of the major universities in Tokyo. The local government even prints out maps of the stores to help people find them all:

Which, you will note, is not 400 stores, because the process of becoming an "official" Jimbocho Town Bookstore is an intensely political operation run by local stakeholders with tons of fights over what should qualify and what rights that entails - never change humanity!

"Book Towns" used to actually be quite a common thing, and they peaked during the literary boom of the late 19th century. Figuring out "what books existed" was a hard task, and to do serious research you needed to own the books (you weren't making photocopies), so concentrating specialty bookstores in one area made sense to allow someone to go to one place and ask around to find what they need and discover what exists. It was academia's version of Comiket! Modern digital information & distribution networks slowly killed or at least reduced these districts in places like Paris or London, but Jimbocho is one of the few that still survives.

Why it has is multi-causal for sure - half of this story is that Tokyo is YIMBY paradise and has constantly built new buildings to meet demand so rents have been kept down, allowing low-margin, individually-owned operations to continue where they have struggled in places like the US. These stores don't make much money but they don't have to. But as important is that Japan has a very strong 'book collector' culture, it's the original baseball cards for a lot of people. The "organic" demand for a 1960's shoujo magazine or porcelainware picture book is low, but hobbyists building collections is a whole new source of interest. Book-as-art-collection powered Jimbocho through until the 21st century, where - again like Comiket - the 'spectacle' could give it a lift and allow the area to become a tourist attraction and a mecca for the ~cozy book hoarder aesthetic~ to take over. Now it can exist on its vibes, which go so far as to be government-recognized: In 2001 the "scent wafting from the pages of the secondhand bookstore" was added to Japan's Ministry of Environment's List of 100 Fragrance Landscapes.

Of course this transition has changed what it sells; when it first began in the Meiji area, Jimbocho served the growing universities flanking it, and was a hotpot of academic (and political-polemic) texts. Those stores still exist, but as universities built libraries and then digital collections, the hobby world has taken over. Which comes back to me, baby! If you want Old Anime Books Jimbocho is one of the best places to go - the list of "subculture" stores is expansive.

I'll highlight two here: the first store I went to was Kudan Shobo, a 3rd floor walk-up specializing in shoujo manga. And my guys, the ~vibes~ of this store. It has this little sign outside pointing you up the stairs with the cutest book angel logo:

And the stairs:

Real flex of Japan's low crime status btw. Inside is jam-packed shelves and the owner just sitting there eating dinner, so I didn't take any photos inside, but not only did it have a great collection of fully-complete shoujo magazines going back to the 1970's, it had a ton of "meta" books on shoujo & anime, even a doujinshi collection focusing on 'commentary on the otaku scene' style publications. Every Jimbocho store just has their own unique collection, and you can only discover it by visiting. I picked up two books here (will showcase some of the buys in another post).

The other great ~subculture~ store I went to was Yumeno Shoten - and this is the store I would recommend to any otaku visiting, it was a much broader collection while still having a ton of niche stuff. The vibes continued to be immaculate of course:

And they covered every category you could imagine - Newtype-style news magazine, anime cels, artbooks, off-beat serial manga magazines, 1st edition prints, just everything. They had promotional posters from Mushi Pro-era productions like Cleopatra, nothing was out of reach. I got a ton of books here - it was one of the first stores I visited on my second day in Jimobocho, which made me *heavily* weighed down for the subsequent explorations, a rookie mistake for sure. There are adorable book-themed hotels and hostels in Jimbocho, and I absolutely could see a trip where you just shop here for a week and stay nearby so you can drop off your haul as you go.

We went to other great stores - I was on the lookout for some 90's era photography stuff, particularly by youth punk photographer Hiromix (#FLCL database), and I got very close at fashion/photography store Komiyama Shoten but never quite got what I was looking for. Shinsendo Shoten is a bookstore devoted entirely to the "railway and industrial history of Japan" and an extensive map collection, it was my kind of fetish art. My partner @darktypedreams found two old copies of the fashion magazine Gothic & Lolita Bible, uh, somewhere, we checked like five places and I don't remember which finally had it! And we also visited Aratama Shoten, a store collecting vintage pornography with a gigantic section on old BDSM works that was very much up her alley. It had the porn price premium so we didn't buy anything, but it was delightful to look through works on bondage and non-con from as far back as the 1960's, where honestly the line between "this is just for the fetish" and "this is authentic gender politics" was...sometimes very blurry. No photos of this one for very obvious reasons.

Jimbocho absolutely earned its rep, its an extremely stellar example of how history, culture, and uh land use policy can build something in one place that seems impossible in another operating under a different set of those forces. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip.

[hylianengineer]

It's been months since I visited London and I still think about it sometimes.

London is bizarre because you can go there, having never been in the UK in your whole life, and recognize landmarks from your childhood storybooks. You can know the names of the royal family members the buildings are named after, but not why you know them.

London is a city that is still very palpably the seat of one of the largest, most powerful empires in recent history. You can feel it. You can see it in the ostentatious wealth and the cultural gravity. London exists as much in myth as it does in reality, and if you grew up anywhere that was once connected to the British Empire, or even anywhere particularly globalized, you probably know that myth somewhere deep within your brain. It's weird.

Some parts of it are very beautiful and some are very disturbing and many are both at once. It's ancient and modern and touristy and messy and it's world-class museums and fast food restaurants all crammed in together.

There's no place like London - and I mean this both in the Sweeney Todd sense and the complementary one. ("There's a hole in the world like a great black pit / And the vermin of the world inhabit it / And it's morals aren't worth what a pig can spit / And it goes by the name of London!")

It's weird to think about as a USAmerican, because London isn't unique in this position as a huge, cosmopolitan, deeply complicated city - New York is another example. There is everything in New York, good and bad, but it's easier for me to overlook the bad parts presumably because I'm USAmerican and have a cultural blindspot the size of the Empire State Building. It is also a bit different I think because New York isn't the seat of US government - although, fun fact, it almost was. So it doesn't get the same reputation, the same close ties to empire - it does have them, it just hides them a bit better. I mean, it is home to Wall Street, for starters, and it attracts rich and famous people just like London does. It has its bastions of incomprehensible wealth and privilege, and also a great deal of poverty. I guess big cities are just like that - or all cities, really, but the farther up the totem pole you go, the bottom seems farther and farther away. Sorta creepy actually. I know New York's geography and landmarks even better than I know London's, but it wasn't such a shock seeing them in person because, sure, I'd never been there, but at least it was the same country. I knew plenty of people who'd been there.

Also, New York City is recent. London is bafflingly old - New York, like most of America, likes to pretend nothing ever happened there before about 1500, and nothing of consequence for at least a hundred years after that. That's bullshit, of course, but it means the dominant (colonial) cultural narrative many of us have grown up with has only four-hundred-ish years of history to work with, max. You go to London and see individual buildings much older than that. It's bizarre, as an American, not even because we don't have things that old here, but since our colonialist narrative ignores things that old, they aren't often discussed with the same sort of reverence (it's unfair and stupid but that's how it works). Like, that's stupid, all of earth is equally incomprehensibly old to us humans (don't come at me for this, geologists, I know the age of rocks is actually hugely variable but we weren't here for most of that!). Anywhere you stand on this planet has as much history as London or New York or anywhere else but we don't think about that because the cultural narratives we're told don't encourage us to think about it that way. That's weird. What momentous events happened right where I'm standing that I'll never know about?

[adminbryantsaki]

Greek God Barista AU

Greek gods Café Au x Female! Reader.

(I do not own Hades, Poseidon, or Zeus. They belong to Homer. And references to Epic: the Musical belongs to Jorge Rivera-Herrans. Nor do I own any franchises or brands mentioned in the story. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move along. Reader discretion is advised)

TW: Greek gods, mention of multiple lovers, dating with a god, flirting, going on a date, romantic interactions

WC: 10,263

We open to three unique cafes with their own special styles. One is placed within a forest protected by the National Park Service where the owner is assisted by a group of young ladies, another is a café truck along the side of a boardwalk in a beach city with a beautiful backdrop of the ocean surrounded with the noise of crashing waves, and finally, deep in the inner workings of the large city nearby is our last café, bearing a darker themed shop, holding a sharing bookshelf where customers can read a book or even donate some books to enjoy during their visit there.  Zeus

We focus in on the first café. The medium-sized building is set in a small clearing along the main road of the National Park that is it’s home. The shop looked like any other Starbucks that you’d see outside of the park but there was something different about this one. Something that seemed to lure you to this specific coffee shop.

You open the door and the smell of coffee and freshly rained-on grass fills your nose. You enter the shop and see a small table with three plates of cookies sitting there, You saw chocolate chunk cookies, snickerdoodles, and peanut butter thumbprints all labeled with a sign that said ‘help yourself and make yourself at home, someone will come give you a menu momentarily.’ You took a cookie and wandered around the shop, checking out some of the other merchandise before you went to one corner of the shop that had an oak barrel as a table and chairs made from barrels as well. You sat down in one of the chairs while you ate your cookie and looked around at the rich forest green and navy blue that lined the walls, with an accent wall of a forested silhouette of trees all colored various shades of green.

Chocolate brown stained wood framed the painted walls and lined the floor, helping to make the colors pop. An ambient soundtrack of thunder and lightning storms added to the environment to pull you into a relaxed state, allowing you to close your eyes, just for a moment. You felt something poke you awake. You opened your eyes to see a young woman with green hair and pink streaks throughout look at you with warm brown eyes staring at you with a look of concern.

“Are you alright?” She asked. She wore a green and brown plaid shirt, blue jeans, and a black apron over her clothes with leather hiking boots on her feet. She held a menu in her hands that she wanted to give you. “I’m fine. This place just seemed so relaxing when I came in that I thought I’d lay back and close my eyes for just a moment.” You told the waitress and she looked relieved.

“That’s a relief. I’m Juniper. I’ll be your server today. Here’s a menu and take your time. Welcome to Olympic Brews.” She said and handed you the menu. You thought the name a little odd but it fit the masculine theme of the shop. You read over the menu, seeing your options displayed on the recycled paper that had been dyed green from what looked to be matcha powder and spinach leaves. On the menu were the many options that the café offered. You read the items silently to yourself.

~~Drinks~~

Bull- classic redbull with fruit flavors added.

Storm- London fog tea

The Divine Wrath- blueberry lemonade zinger refresher

Master Bolt- Four shot americano.

Springtime drink- pomegranate salmonberry refresher with a black rice inclusion.

Morning Sunshine- breakfast blend tea with bright orange and lemon flavors.

Evening Moon- nighttime tea made from lemongrass and chamomile.

~~Food~~

Wise Owl-kale salad with balsamic raspberry vinegarette, strawberries, crasins, pinenuts and sunflower seeds and optional feta cheese.

Ram-Line of jerky with different flavors. Turkey, chicken, pork, beef, pea protein, chickpea, and tofu.

Hephaestus(forging/creating)- some kind of build your own food.

Hermes( messenger)- envelope sugar cookie and a caduceus shortbread cookie and the flying shoe cookie.

“Thunder Bringer”- a protein packed snack box with hard boiled eggs, ham cubes, turkey cubes, cheddar, mozzarella, grapes, peanut butter back, apple slices, nut mix ( cashews, almonds, pumpkin seeds) yellow thunder bolt toothpick across the top.

Aegis- dark chocolate chip cookie.

 Scroll- phyllo dough in the shape of scroll. With fruit filling

Oak tree- solid chocolate acorn with white, millk, and dark chocolate. 

Steer- beef au ju ( bread , meat, beef broth)

Lightning bolt- bolt shaped phyllo dough pastry with either mxed berry filling or goat cheese filling.

Eagle- smoked salmon bagel with goat cheese ( dill or grape chevre) with capers.

~~Assortments and add-ins~~

The Vinyard- grape juice box. Frozen grapes as a treat. Cookies in the shape of a grape cluster iced in green or purple.

Nectar shots available and aquafaba cream cups for your pet upon request.

You looked over the menu again until Juniper came back to get your order.

“Did you decide your order, hon?” She asked and you looked up at her and told you wanted. “I’d like the ‘Thunder Bringer’ and the ‘divine wrath.’ I’d also like to know what nectar is.” You asked and Juniper’s eyes widened. “Do you not know what nectar is? Its only the drink of the gods. I haven’t had it myself but the boss says that is sweet like honey and very good! It gives a boost of energy too.” She spoke as she held a menu tightly to her chest.

“Why not? Add some to my drink, love.” You spoke and she took your menu, running back to the kitchen to put in your order. “WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE.” You heard her call out to her sisters in the kitchen. A small cheer can be heard coming from the kitchen. You see a tall, middle aged man with white streaks in his otherwise black-as-night hair coming off his temples and down the middle of his beard, an olive skin tone and strikingly blue eyes walk over to you with a gentle kindness in his eyes. He sat across from you in another oak barrel chair. He wore a similar uniform to Juniper, just he had a black and white plaid shirt instead of the green and brown one, blue jeans and the same black apron. He also wore a light brown knitted beanie on top of his head.

“I see you’ve heard of nectar before? Have you heard of the Gods as well, little one?” You asked

As he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I Have. I read about them in books when I was little. They seemed to be all fictional though.” You spoke and the older man chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with crow’s feet as he laughed, showing a sign of his age. He fatherly air about him seemed to give you a strange sense of familiarity and comfort as you gazed into his eyes. He watched you as your eyes widened as you realized who he was and laid back in realization that all the stories about the Greek gods and monsters were all real and not just made up. You noticed a small flame of attraction sparking inside of you as your looked at him more, growing ever more attracted the more you watched the man. You finally averted your eyes when Juniper brought over your food and drink on a golden platter.

“Here you are, love.” She spoke and set the drink and box of food on the table next to you. She saw Zeus and jumped a little. “Oh, I didn’t expect you to come out here, boss.” She said to the man who waved her away as he wanted to be alone with you a little longer.

Juniper hurriedly walked away with her head down as she followed her boss’s order to leave him alone with you. “Tell me, what is your name, my dear?” His deeper rumbling voice sounded, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t resist not answering him so you instinctively responded with your name while keeping your eyes shut. You heard a quiet, almost thunderous chuckle come from the man when he heard your name. “Such a nice name for such a pretty lady. I’ve seen you around the visitor center before and I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. I’m glad you finally came to visit my shop.” He spoke and your eyes widened. You had seen him around the more populated areas of the park with a coffee cart serving drinks to the people enjoying the park and the views. You would catch him staring at you as he served the patrons their orders from the cart. You looked up at him with a serious look in your eyes.

“Who are you?” You asked as a glimmer of lightning flashed across the man’s eyes. He leaned forward with his elbows across his knees as he watched you lovingly. “Take a guess darling.” He spoke with a hint of mischief. Your mind wandered as you thought back to the menu you read only a few minutes before and thought back to the bedtime stories of Greek heroes like Heracles and Perseus, and the gods and goddesses that your mom would tell you as you grew up. You looked to the man and I finally realized who he was.

“You’re Zeus.” You said in an excited realization. The man smiled as a crackle of electricity flashed across his eyes.

“You’re correct, sweetheart.” He spoke and leaned forward on his knees with his elbows. He called for one of the girls that you were now realizing were dryads top to the seating area. The one you recognized as Juniper come to the front carrying a brushed gold tray in her arms.

“Juniper, darling? Could you bring me a Master Bolt with some of the cashew cream please?” He asked her while looking to her and holding her hand gently. Juniper blushed visibly, nodding in agreement, and running back to kitchen to make Zeus’s order. The god looked back at you, leaning back in his seat, and crossing one of his legs over the other.

“I’m glad you came to visit today, what drew you here today?” He asked “I hadn’t visited this place yet so I thought I should.” You said stiffly as the memories of how many women he slept with over the millennia came coming back from the stories you read and had read to you when you were a child by your parents. “Well, I’m glad you came to visit anyways, y/n. I would love to see you visit mem more in the future. He says in a flirtatious tone that makes you feel disgusted. You knew he wanted to add you to the long list of lovers he had and you were insistent that you wouldn’t be as you knew his reputation. You also knew the result of his lovers when his wife, Hera, the goddess of marriage found out that her husband had cheated on her yet again.

 You stood up and went to the door. Zeus grabbed your wrist to make you stay. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, a look of frustration in his eyes, hinted with worry that he will never see you again. “Oh no, you don’t. I won’t face the wrath of your wife.” You spoke, grabbing your food and drink to sit outside. Zeus’s face flashes with disappointment as he watched you leave. He received his own drink and followed you outside as you sat at one of the outside tables to pick at the food in your snack box. Zeus sat across from you with his arms crossed across his chest, occasionally sipping at his coffee as he watched you try to read your book.

“ Stop ignoring me and pay attention.” He says in almost a whiny tone. “I’m not going to entertain a man-child just because I don’t fall into his arms when he throws his charms at me to try and woo me.” You say, closing your book, finishing your drink, and taking the rest of your snack box with you back to your truck to go back to your cabin. Zeus was at a loss for words as he watched you leave his café and drive off. Days pass and you go about your duties at the park , cleaning up trash, refilling the flier holders, and answering questions from visitors of the park.

As you did so, you’d constantly see Zeus standing in the corner of your eye or see Juniper and her friends who you found out later were dryads attending the cart they would bring out in the popular areas of the park and hand out information to where their café was in the park. You’d avoid the cart when Zeus was tending the cart and swarmed by a group of women who all thought him attractive and trying to get his number. But you’d try something else out on the menu only when the Dryads were tending the cart and Zeus noticed. He furrowed his brow when he saw you at the cart when he wasn’t there and it got under his skin. He decided to do something about it.

One day, you were milling about a larger crowd of people that were at the visitor center that day helping answer questions and take care of crowd control. You could see Zeus not in his normal attire like he was in the café the first time you met. Today he was wearing a navy-blue button up shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks. Not your usual garb when going to spend a day in nature. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to just past his elbows to show off his muscular forearms that had simplistic lightning bolt tattoos on his arms and laurels around his wrists.

You pretended to ignore him but to no avail. He had gotten in line to get a question from you when asked for people to make lines to make some sense of order amongst the crowd. He just had to choose the line you were at the head of. He kept his eyes on you as the line went down and he grew closer and closer to you. You kept a neutral expression until you noticed him right in front of you. “Hello there, how may I help you today?” You asked as you checked something on the desk in front of you before you looked up into his piercing blue eyes. He seemed upset about something and you raised an eyebrow curiously.

“You need to stop avoiding me. I know you have been purposefully trying to avoid me, Y/n.” He spoke as he placed both hands on the desk, staring you right in your eyes. You remained your aloof expression, only letting a slight grin spread across your lips.

“If you have any comments, complaints, or requests, please fill out this form and send it in. Our park rangers will get back to you in one to three business days.” You said and handed him the slip of paper he needed to fill out. Zeus took the paper and left the visitor center disgruntled. You watched as he got back into his 4x4 truck and drove off, probably back to wherever a god stayed when they were living alone in the woods.

A few days later, you’re outside the visitor center again and Zeus is there, looking a bit sheepish. He was holding a stem of your favorite flower and a box of pastries from his shop in hand. You saw inside the clear plastic box that there were: two filled lightning bolts, a scroll, the caduceus, the envelope, the flying shoe, and a couple chocolate cookies in the box as he stepped forward. Zeus looked to have an envelope in hand that he passed to you. You opened it in front of him and it was the slip you gave him only a few days before. It read:

“I am sorry I was too forward, Y/n. I did not mean for you to just be another woman added to my list. I care for you and I find you attractive. I’d be honored if you’d at least go on one date with me. That is my request.” You read to yourself and looked up to the god.  He handed you the box of pastries and the flowers, waiting your answer. You accepted the flowers and the treats, looking at them before looking up to Zeus who was hoping you’d say yes to just the one date.

“Fine. One date. If I don’t want to see you again, then that is that. If I want to see you again then we will talk. But I will not be sleeping with you on the first date. Is that understood?” You asked, keeping your gaze and tone firm. Zeus looked up at you with a look of understanding. He nodded and rubbed the back of his head.

“When would you like to go out?” He asked.

“This Friday at 7:30pm. We will meet here.” You spoke, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Very well then, I’l see you here this Friday at seven-thirty pm.” He spoke and turned to leave. “See you then, God of thunder.” You spoke as you watched him get back into his truck and drive off. You were secretly excited for this date and you hoped it would go smoothly. You went about your normal week, only to realize that on Thursday evening you needed to be ready for tomorrow’s date and you hadn’t done any planning whatsoever. You quickly rushed into your bedroom to dig through your closet, hoping you had something appropriate for a date. You luckily found a little black dress that you laid out with some matching black converse and scanned the dress for any stains or tears in the fabric since you hadn’t worn the garment in a while, happy to see none as you hung the dress up on the back of your door, waiting to wear it tomorrow for your date with a god. The next day as you were working your normal shift at the visitor center, Zeus was pacing his silver bullet shaped trailer located in the nearest campsite that the park had given him to live in while he ran the café, stressing over how he looked. He had changed his outfit several times already and had requested that one of his loyal cloud nymphs to assist him in choosing an outfit and the poor creature was at its wits end with the god’s indecisiveness on his appearance.

“You look handsome, my lord. Y/n will think you look good in anything, sir. You’re only taking her to dinner at Lady Demeter’s place, aren’t you?” The nymph asked as they watched Zeus fiddle with his tie in front of the mirror.

“Yes, that is the plan. But I’m nervous! You know how she gets when she finds out I’m with another woman.” Zeus spoke, saying the last part in a hushed whisper as if he were afraid that someone was listening. The nymph raised its head in acknowledgement as they knew Zeus was referring to his wife, Hera. Hera always had known where Zeus was at any given moment, except for now. This was a National Park, a forest that was on his protected land and apart of his domain where Hera couldn’t track him or touch him whatsoever. Zeus had also taken further precautions when making the menu for his café, from avoiding using cow’s milk to denying who he was to his own sons, Apollo, and Hermes when they came to check in on him after he had been absent from Olympus for a noticeable amount of time.

He was careful. He didn’t want to be found. He didn’t know how long he wanted to stay hidden but he wanted to be hidden from his family but he knew that he didn’t want to be found right now. Zeus shook the uncomfortable feeling that Hera was onto him and sending people to seek him out in her stead and adjusted his tie one more before leaving his trailer and getting into his truck to drive down to the visitor center around 7:15pm.

Zeus found a parking spot and got out. He looked around the visitor center area to find you sitting on a bench scrolling through your phone while you waited for him to show up. You looked beautiful to him in your outfit from where he was observing you in his truck. He took a deep breath and grabbed the items he bought for you and exited his vehicle and walked over to you with another stem of your favorite flower in hand as he approached. You looked up at him when you heard footsteps approaching. “I see you decided to show up.” You said and checked your phone again as it was 7:25.

“I Almost thought you were going to stand me up, Zeus.” You told him as you put our phone away and stood up to face him. “I would never.” He said and handed you the flower. You accepted the flower and took his arm and walked with him back to his truck.

“So, where are you taking me tonight?” You asked as he opened the passenger door to your car and helped you inside. Zeus went around the front of the car and got in on the driver’s side.

“I am taking you to a restaurant on the other side of the park. I think you’ve heard of it. Its called ‘The Golden Harvest.’” He says as he starts up the truck and begins driving. You had heard of that restaurant before you’ve wanted to visit the place before but the waiting list was months out. “How did you get a reservation so quickly?” You asked as you looked at him while he drove down the long road to the other side of the park.

“I know the owner. She and I go way back.” Zeus said as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked at him quizzically as your brain was trying to piece together who this friend of his was.You thought of the name, ‘The Golden Harvest’. Then you thought of any other names associated with any of his family members that had to do with the harvest before it dawned on you and you looked over to Zeus. “Your ‘friend’ is Demeter, isn’t she?” You asked as you watched his face for any change in expression.Zeus rubbed his face with his hand as he drove as he forgot for a moment that you were a smart mortal.  “Yes, You’re right. She promised to help keep my location here a secret form Hera while I’m here so I promised that I’d learn how to make vegan or use how to use dairy alternatives so she’d keep her end of the deal.” He spoke and kept driving, keeping his hands on the wheel, almost white-knuckling the wheel out of anxiety.

“Why do you use non-dairy alternatives? Is it because one of Hera’s symbols is a cow?” You asked as he kept driving. “Yes, It is. If I used cow’s milk it would be like sending a homing beacon off to her.” He spoke as he went to the exit that led to Demeter’s restaurant. He parked in one of the vacant spots and turned the car off. He got out and went over to the other side to let you out and he puts his arm around your waist, guiding you into the green, pink, and brown colored restaurant that smelled of jasmine and had a heavy natural and organic food theme. Zeus led you inside and over to a table near the back that had a ‘reserved for Zeus’ sign on the tabletop. where a cluster of wheat sheathes were tied together and placed in a glass jar and set on the windowsill as the décor.

 A moment passes and a flower nymph with little daisies sprouting from her hair that was styled into a braid that fell over her right shoulder handed both of you menus and glass cups filled with water. “My name is Daisy; I’ll be your server for tonight. Anything we can get you started with?” She asked. “We would like two cups of Demeter’s blessing with nectar added.”  Zeus spoke and the nymph’s eyes widened. “Right away, Lord Zeus.” She spoke, walking away to get the two of you the jasmine tea and let you be so that the two of you could decide what you wanted in silence. Daisy set the cups of tea in front of you both before leaving again to tend to another customer. After a few minutes of perusing the menus, Zeus looks up at you, wondering what you’ve picked.

“I’m going for the chicken pasta, what about you?” He asked as he looked at you while you were perusing your menu still. “The mushroom pasta looks good.” You said before looking to him and handing him your menu so he could order when Daisy come back. The nymph came back with a small tablet and pen in hand a few moments later, ready to take your orders. “Are you two ready to order? What would you like?” She asked, looking to the both of you.

“I will have the chicken pasta and Y/n here will have the mushroom pasta.” Zeus said and handed the menus back to Daisy who took them and tucked them under her arm after she scribbled down the order on her notepad.

“I’ll get those cooking right away, sir.” She spoke and walked off to put the orders in. “Now that we’re alone, why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” Zeus asked. You talked about how you grew up going to the National parks with your parents every summer and how you grew to love helping others learn about the parks and care for the parks too and how to care for nature. Zeus set his head in his hand as he watched you talk about things you were passionate about while the two of you waited for your food to come out.

“I think that’s enough about me, why don’t you tell me why the King of Olympus is hiding out in a government protected forest?” You asked as you leaned back in your chair, looking back to the god.

Zeus looked at you with widened eyes before he looked at the unfinished wooden table sheepishly. “I’m hiding from my wife… she and I had a big fight over another child of mine popping up recently and she caused that devastating twister over the American Midwest. I want to be free from her so I can do what I want without the consequences of being married to Hera.” Zeus spoke as he held his head in his hands. “You could divorce her.” You suggested. Zeus’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t do that! Yes, I’m tired of her causing a fuss every time I father another hero and either turning their mother into some animal or plant or causing stress for my kids.” Zeus spoke. “You know what you do by ‘fathering other heroes’ is what us humans call ‘cheating’ right?” You asked the god.

“Yes, I am aware… but your people… the women of your kind are so… damn attractive, I can’t help myself to some of the best in each generation.” He spoke with a soft, reminiscent smile spreading across his face. Daisy came with your food just in the nick of time allowing Zeus to avoid the subject for now as you wanted to enjoy your hot food. You thanked Daisy and began to eat your food while staring Zeus down, telling him that this conversation wasn’t over with the look in your eyes. You ate a couple bites of your pasta in silence, contemplating his words as they made you disgusted and your stomach churn at first until you thought them over and realized he might have a point.

“What kind of women did you deem ‘the best’?” You asked. “Smart, strong, and wise women, queens, and leaders. Powerful women that caught my eye with their beauty. Women like yourself that contribute their time to their community to upkeep nature and educate others in how they can help keep the world clean and care for the forests around them.” Zeus spoke as he held your hand in his. You realized that you fall into the category of women he found attractive.

“I can’t date you… but we can be friends.” You said, giving him a soft smile. Zeus looked a little disappointed but relieved that you still wanted to at least be friends with him.

“I understand your reasoning. You are wise to think that.” He spoke and ate a piece of chicken. You took a few bites of your pasta before thanking him and casually chatting to Zeus for the rest of the evening, asking him questions you had about the stories you read about his lovers, how Hera made Leto not have any rest and how she kidnapped the goddess of childbirth so Leto couldn’t have Apollo and Artemis in Greece, or how he kept Dionysus in his leg after Hera zapped his mom before he was born, and why he ate Metis because of some prophecy and how his head felt when Athena burst forth from it. Zeus chuckled and answered all your questions happily as the two of you ate and split a dessert before he paid for the meal and walked you back to the truck so he could take you home.

“That was a nice meal. Can we do that more often… even just as friends?” He asked as he opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside. “Of course. Just as friends though.” You spoke before he closed the door and got in on the driver’s side of the truck. “Right. Just friends.” He spoke and turned the engine over. “Where do you live? I’ll drive you back home.” He spoke. “Oh, I live in the park with the park rangers.” You told him. Zeus nodded and drove you to the ranger’s residences near the visitor center, stopping in front of your cabin and letting you out. You hopped down from his truck and he walked you to your door. “I hope I’ll see you again at my café again… maybe become a regular customer?” He suggested. “We will see about that.” You told him.

“This is me. Thank you for a nice night, Zeus.” You spoke and went inside. Zeus waited a moment on your front step before going back to his truck and going home, looking forward to your future friendship. The end. Wasn’t that nice? Lets move onto our next Café, one along the sandy beaches and rolling waves of a quiet coastal town.

Poseidon You were walking along the boardwalk in your coastal village on a lazy sunny afternoon when you found yourself craving something to drink and you wanted something sweet to eat. You happened on a type of café on wheels parked on the edge of the boardwalk with the sign of ‘Tidal Wave.’ You walked up to the window and you saw a pretty woman with olive tone skin, green eyes, and black hair look down at you. You saw the name “Amphie” on her nametag as she addressed you.

“Hello there, what can I get for you today?” The Amphie asked as she looked at you with a tender, motherly look about her.

You looked at the menu and saw the drinks and foods they had.

~~~Drinks~~~

Poseidon’s menu

Make It Rain- Refresher. (orange mango pineapple with blue spirulina)

Seagrass- blue and green spirulina smoothies.

Earthshaker- Strong coffee like espresso

Trident- a selection of fruity zinger teas (orange, raspberry, blueberry, or lemon)

Ruthlessness- double strong grey tea

Riptide- coconut water with passionfruit and pineapple energy drink.

Ask for ‘extra sweet’ with your order for a special surprise!

~~~Food~~~

Skol-a tuna melt with dill.

 Hippocampi- giant naturally-colored seahorse shortbread cookies. At least 8 inches long (Mom loves seahorses and she helped me plan this menu. Shortbreads are her favorite cookie and seahorses are her favorite underwater animal)

 Conch- phyllo dough conch cannoli with cream filling, 

Clams- clam shaped lobster po’boy.

 Equine- horse head pastry with sugar sand dusting on mane and blue berry filling dyed with blue spirulina.

Ocean wave- berries for pearls in their ambrosia with candy pearls on top with some kind of cream

 seafoam- seafoam candy (Lots of holes and very light)

Salt water taffy

 Salty sailor sandwich-

Sushi ( breakfast sushi, lunch rolls [California rolls, cucumber rolls, salmon rolls], sashimi, musubi)

the ocean- A seafood chowder or stew (for the lactose intolerant)

You read the menu to yourself before looking back to the woman to tell her your order.

“I’d like a large earthshaker with some cream and the blue hippocampi cookie please.” You asked.

“Of course, sweetie. Anything you’d like added like whipped cream or extra sweetener?” Amphie asked.

“I see on your menu to ask for ‘extra sweet’ for a surprise.” You spoke and a man appeared from the back of the truck and looked to the woman whose eyes were wide with surprise. He had long black hair tied up in a bun, similar olive tone skin, and ocean blue eyes. He had a short beard and he wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist, telling you that Amphie was his wife.

“Looks like we have another ‘interested customer’.” He spoke with a smile to Amphie.

“What do you think, Amphie? Do you think they’re another one of them?” The man asked whose nametag said “Caspian’ asked Amphie, who looked to be his wife nodded. She told you the total of your order and went into the back of the truck to work on your food. You heard the espresso machine whirr to life and Caspian came to talk with you.

“Tell me, my dear, have you ever felt yourself drawn to the ocean? Hear it call your name at night, beckoning to walk among the shores? Did you ever go on the beach after a storm and find the most exquisite stones or shells, almost as if they had been placed there for you to find?” Caspian asked, a familiar gleam in his eyes as if you’ve known him from somewhere before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you’ve seen him before.

You thought back to the many times you and your parents would go to the ocean and the many times you felt the ocean calling to you, as a picture of either a stony shore or a sandy one popping into your mind at the most random of times. You looked up to the man who was looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face as he watched you. Amphie, who you realized was Amphitrite handed you your order and smiled at you gently.

“Have a good day, sweetheart.” She spoke and walked back into the truck to clean up and prepare for the next order. Caspian, who you were slowly realizing was Poseidon himself as you drank your coffee, wondering what was in it that was giving you more than the normal buzz. Amphitrite also hands you a small blue pastry with their card under the pastry.

“Here is your surprise. Have a good day, sweetie.” She spoke and handed you the horse head shaped pastry that was filled with blueberry filling dyed blue. You took a bite and your eyes shot open as the treat had the same sweet flavor like in your coffee.

“What’s in this?” You asked as you looked back to Poseidon and Amphitrite.

“Its nectar of the Gods, dear. Like it?” Amphitrite asked. You nodded and took another large bite of the pastry that was shaped like a horsehead.

“Thank you, ma’am.” You said and walked on, processing the fact that you had just met two gods and survived.

“Of course, darling. Come back anytime now, you hear?” Poseidon spoke as he withdrew into the truck and went about prepping some other item on the menu. Poseidon would occasionally peek out of the walk-up window to watch you walk back up the boardwalk which earned him a playful smack on the arm as she told him to focus on making the dough.

A couple days later you found yourself walking the boardwalk again, wandering in the direction of the truck again, finding that Poseidon sitting out back in a beach chair, enjoying a quick coffee break. You didn’t see any sign of Amphitrite which made you a little concerned for her wellbeing.

You approached the truck and stood up on your tiptoes to peer into the truck, only to find it being empty and a ‘be back in fifteen minutes’ sign sitting on the order window. You sunk down from the bar and paced on the gravel patch in front of the truck, waiting for Poseidon to come back so you could talk to him.  A few moments pass and you heard the side door open and saw Poseidon enter the truck and move the ‘back in fifteen’ sign from the bar and his ocean blue eyes stared at you.

“Hello there~,” He said when he saw you. “What can I get you for today?” He asked. You looked over the menu and decided on the ‘make it rain’ refresher.

“Want it ‘extra sweet’ like last time, hon?” He asks as he writes down your order. You contemplate how the nectar made your mind buzz like it hadn’t before and opened your eyes to the differences around you, revealing the true identities of the god and goddess in the food truck.

“Sure, why not?” You said as the god scribbled something down on the sticky note before attaching it to the active orders and getting to work on your order. You found yourself staring at Poseidon for a bit too long as you were trying to wrestle with yourself about the feelings you had for him as you had feelings for the god.

You wanted to confess to him but he was married. You didn’t know then that he wanted you too but the god wasn’t aware of your feelings for him too as he worked on your drink and placed it on the window. You stopped your pacing when he called your name over even though you were the only customer there. You took the plastic cup from him and your fingers brushed together, making your cheeks flush bright red and you handed him the money you needed to pay for the drink.

“Don’t stress it. It’s been slow today. Its on the house.” He told you with the same smile on his face that gave you a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest. The timing of him being alone in the food truck with his wife nowhere to be seen was almost too perfect. “Where’s Amphie?” You asked as you looked up at him before you took sip of your drink, your eyes widening as the nectar hit you and your eyes widened as the buzz of the sweetness hit. Poseidon looked at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering why you were concerned about his wife.

“She took the day off. She had other things to attend to.” He spoke as he went to clean a piece of equipment and placed a chocolate shell-shaped cannoli in a paper bag and handed it to you. You took the treat and raised an eyebrow back to the god. “Its your surprise you get when you ask for a drink ‘extra sweet.’” He told you before watching you a moment longer, his eyes looking you up and down before he retreated into the truck to care for other items. You lingered around the truck to munch on your cannoli before Poseidon peered out the truck again at you.

“I close the truck around five. Come back then and we can talk.” He spoke and smiled at you. You thanked him for the treat and went about your day, enjoying some time on the beach, building a sand castle, and milling about the shops while you waited for five pm to roll around. You made it to the truck right at five o’clock. You found Poseidon putting away the last things into the truck and locking it away.

“There you are. I was wondering if you were even going to show up.” He spoke as he put the keys into his hoodie pocket and walking over to you. “What did you do during the day?” He asked as he approached you with his hands in his pocket. “I went to the beach and built a sandcastle over there, then I milled about the sand looking at the animals and finding some shells I left on the beach or put on my sand castle before I went back to the town and milled about the shops… really just killing time before coming back here.” You told him.

“Sounds like an eventful day. Do you want some ice cream? I know where a good stand is nearby.” He offered as he walked away from his food truck, leading you down the boardwalk to a little ice cream cart that was run by a man with tan skin and blonde hair who was scooping some ice cream into a cone for a mother and her child as they were headed home for the day. You saw a golden sun as the logo on the front of the cart with the name “Golden sun farms” You about face-palmed when you realized Poseidon had brought you to Apollo’s ice cream cart to talk. The sun god glanced up at the two of you and he flashed you a smile and Poseidon a knowing look since he usually brought his love interests to his cart when he had an interest in them.

“What would you like?” Apollo asked as you look over the flavor options. There was vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, a espresso flavor, a mint chocolate chip, a peanut butter and chocolate one, a pralines and cream, French vanilla bean, Oreo, Neapolitan, a mixed berry flavor, a cookie dough flavor, and a strawberry cheesecake flavor, and finally a berry pie flavor that had visible chunks of pie dough in the ice cream, a sunflower seed butter one that was an alternative to the peanut butter flavor, and a selection of dairy-free gelato flavors. You looked away from the cart since you were overwhelmed with the options. Poseidon put his hand on the small of your back, making your flush bright red as you scanned over the ice cream options. Poseidon leaned in and his breath brushed over your ear.

“Pick what you want. Its on me.” He whispered into your ear, noticing your indecision. You gripped the handle of the cart and told the Sun god what you wanted. You watched him scoop the ice cream into cones and handed your order to you and Poseidon’s order to him. You began licking the sweet treat as Poseidon paid and the two of you kept walking down the boardwalk while eating the ice cream in tension filled silence.

Once the ice cream was eaten and napkins thrown away, Poseidon led you onto the beach to watch the sunset and talk about yourselves a little before it got too dark and he led you back to the lit-up boardwalk.

“It’s getting dark, May I walk you home? Where do you live?” He asked in calm manner. You told him which part of town you lived in and he walked you over, making sure to stop at the end of your walkway to watch you and make sure you got inside your house. You paused to turn to say thank you for the evening with him but he had already disappeared into the night, having left  a beautiful seashell he must’ve found on your walk on the beach together on the porch with a business card to his café and a note.

‘I enjoyed our conversation and the walk on the beach. I hope to see you again at my café soon, y/n.’ The note said. You held it against your chest before going inside your house. The end That story was my favorite out of them all so far. Now onto our final location, the Café of Hades. Hades. You’re walking down the street with your head down with your leather bound book tucked under your arm as you head down the busy city street to a new, hole-in-the wall café you were told about named ‘Stygian Sips’. Your jacket moves with your pace as you’re determined to get somewhere. You duck into an alley way, blending into the shadows as you enter the café, hanging above the doorway to the café was a red neon sign that read the name of the café and glowed brightly against the dark contrasting brick wall.

You slipped inside and found yourself in the queue to order. You looked around the place, seeing the walls lined with floor -to-ceiling bookshelves and reading nooks with accompanying tables for the avid reader to enjoy a cup of coffee and read a book from their lending library. You took in the cozy, dark academia feeling of the café as you got closer and closer to the counter to order. You scanned the menu as you waited in line.

~~~~Drinks~~~~

Menthe- Dark chocolate mint mocha

Kore- Mint pomegranate refresher

Queen of the Underworld- mint tea, hot or cold.

600- 6 shot americano

Hades’ helm- Sheep’s milk latte.

Bident: pomegranate boba tea with coconut tapioca pearls

ask for ‘extra sweet’ for a shot of nectar.

~~~~Food~~~~

Pluto- candied fruit dessert containing blueberries, peaches, apricots, strawberries, cherries, and pineapple.

Serpent- rattlesnake kebabs with roasted vegetables.

Persephone’s garden- Ambrosia cup with pomegranate fruit, berries, honey, mandrins, coconut, pineapple, topped with cashew cream, red onions, and a balsamic reduction. Topped with a sprig of mint. (cashew cream can be swapped for coconut cream for those with tree nut allergies)

Cornucopia- éclair dipped in dark chocolate. Filled with either red bean or matcha cream.

Sacred sheep- sheep-shaped cakes filled with red bean, matcha, or pomegranate coconut cream.

If you have a canine or feline friend with you, we have Cerberus shots for your friend. Either have your pet with you or show a picture to get an aquafaba cream shot cup for them.

You read over the menu, deciding what you wanted as you waited for the line to go down. You looked around more to take in what the shop had to offer. Next to one window was a line of white poplar and cypress saplings for sale as a main feature of the shop which you had heard when your friend had told you about the café. You also saw a large bin of coffee grounds for one’s garden next to the lineup of tree saplings. Your turn to order finally arrived and you walked up to the counter. A young woman with blonde hair with green and pink streaks throughout her hair was a striking contrast to her black, gothic clothing and makeup.

“Hello there, what can I get for you today?” She asked in a cheery expression which also seemed odd for someone with her aesthetic. But one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. “I’d like an extra sweet Bident please and a matcha flavored Sacred sheep.” You  told the woman and her eyes widen when you told her to make the drink ‘extra sweet.’ Her expression was kind to you as she rang up the total.

“Very well, that’s five-ninety-five.” She told you and you handed her the cash and walked away from the register to watch the strong, burly man in the back make your drink while the lady who’s name tag read ‘Seph’ heated up your pastry. You watched the man pour in the coconut tapioca pearls into the plastic cup and pour the pomegranate-infused tea over the pearls and put a shot of a bright-pink liquid into the cup before setting it on the pick-up counter and calling out your name.

“Bident for Y/n!” His deep voice called out into the room and you walked over, a deep blush over your face as you grabbed your drink, thanking him in a quiet tone.

“T-Thank you, sir.” You muttered and held your drink close to your person while the pastry was being heated. Seph handed you the treat.

“Be careful, love. Its hot.” She spoke and went to take the next customer’s order. You took the pastry and your drink before going to find a seat, not noticing the man watching you walk away. Seph drew his attention back to her and kissed him to remind him who he belonged to. She seemed to mutter something to him and you saw a glint of a black diamond ring on her finger, signaling to you that he was married to her.

You found a cozy corner to sit down in to enjoy your drink and pull out your book and begin reading. As you sipped at your drink, you noticed small changes in the environment as a customer looked to have translucent skin, another patron’s cat looked a bit too skeletal, and the couple running the stand seemed to pale and their skin turned slightly grey as you kept drinking your tea. You decided to finish your drink and eat your pastry, wondering if you were just daydreaming or that pink liquid the man put in your drink was some kind of hallucinogenic drug. You finished your drink and pastry before tossing their empty wrappers into the appropriate waste containers.

You went back to your seat to keep reading your book on Greek Myths. The story you were on just so happened to be the marriage of Hades and Persephone. As you were reading about how Persephone’s father, Zeus who had arranged her to be married to his brother, Hades who was also her uncle.  You felt internal rage and a twist of disgust in your stomach a you glanced over at the couple running the register and making the drinks seeming to be very relatable to the couple in your story and how some of the features of the pair seemed to match the pair that was in your book seemed to be more and more similar until it dawned on you that the couple being the real Hades and Persephone, the café you were in was themed like the underworld, seeing as four veins of gold, white, red, and a shimmery black metal were striping through the four corners of the stone floor of the café  and meeting at the counter where the transactions were made.

Each one of the veins represented one of the rivers in the underworld. You then noticed a three headed dog silhouette on the swinging door that gave people entrance to the Café which represented Cerberus. You saw a man lingering in the hallway outside the Café who looked to be a type of bouncer. That must be Charon, the man who’s known to ferry people into the underworld. You looked around the room to see more and more references to the underworld until you saw Hades stealing glances at you as he made orders for customers as they came through. On his next break, Hades made his way over to you, walking by as he slipped a business card to you and quickly walked away to where his wife was staring daggers of hatred at you. You picked up the card and read what was on it: Hades and Persephone, King and Queen of the Underworld and Co-owners of Stygian Sips Café along with their contact information. You tucked the card away into your pocket before picking up the book and making a quick exit before the woman who you knew to be Persephone decided what house plant to turn you into and add you to the collection on the windowsill. You arrived home safely before going back to your book.

Meanwhile back in the shop, Persephone had pulled Hades aside. “You can’t be serious about that mortal, Hades. You’re married to me. You won’t be sleeping with any others after Menthe.” She says. Hades fiddles with his fingers. “Iknow, I know. They just looked so cute, my love. Can’t I have them as a friend at least?” Hades asked. Persephone glared at Hades. “It better be just for the companionship. They did have an intelligent look about them after the nectar hit. Go on and try to befriend them love. I trust you with this one.” She told him. Hades looked relieved that she wouldn’t turn you into another plant to add to her garden out behind the café.

Days pass and Hades begins to grow worried that you won’t return. His doubts are swayed when he sees you walk through the door, seeming to have finished the book on Greek myths and wanting to return the book so others may learn the stories being held within the pages. You got in line, waiting to get to the counter, looking up to the menu to decide what you wanted. When you got to the counter, you saw Hades behind the counter and no sign of Persephone.

“Where’s Seph?” You asked. “She’s tending to her garden today.” He told you, a friendly gleam in his eye as you told him what you wanted. “An extra sweet Hades’s helm and a Persephone’s Garden too, please.” You ordered. Hades rang it up and told you the order. You paid and went to the pickup counter. You gazed over the titles on the nearby shelf while you waited for your order to be made. “Order for Y/n!” Hades called out and set the caffeinated drink on the counter, stealing a look at you before tending to the constant stream of customers that came in. You grabbed a new book off the shelf, replacing the book with the Greek myths one before you grabbed your coffee and food and went to go enjoy the book. While you stayed there, Hades kept trying to sneak away to talk with you whenever he could but he either got caught up with another coffee order or a transaction for a tree sapling. Right when he gets the chance is when you’re leaving the café with the book tucked under your arm. Hades frowns ans silently curses his wife for insisting they sell the tree saplings in their shop.

Another day goes by and you come into the café again, this time looking to get a white poplar sapling. Hades watches as you walk over to the counter hefting the giant pot and placing it on the counter with a couple bags of used coffee grounds. “I’d like to get just this please.” You say and Hades rings it up, hesitating to ask you what you’re going to do with the sapling, and hoping you’d offer up the information. “I want to plant it in my backyard and see it bloom in the spring. It will look amazing!” You tell him excitedly. Hades can’t help but smile and point over to one of the built-in bookshelves near an arrangement of succulents.

“That whole shelf should have books on gardening. Feel free to take some home with you.” He spoke, watching you carry the sapling over to the bookshelf and pulling a couple books off and tucking them under your arm, now struggling to carry the plant. Hades puts his ‘on break’ sign up and goes over to help you. “Need help with that?” He asked. You looked up to him and nodded. Hades took the sapling from you and followed you side the café to were you had parked your truck outside the building. Hades set the potted plant into the bed of your truck before turning to you. “Would you like to hang out sometime? As friends of course. We wouldn’t want my wife to get angry.” He suggested. You pulled out of the cab of your truck to look at him.

“Are you sure about that? I don’t want to get turned into an aloe vera for being seen with you.” You spoke as you noticed someone lean against the wall wearing a leather trench coat, fedora, and dark sunglasses. You could see the woman’s yellow eyes staring you down hungrily as if she were waiting for the right moment to pounce on you. Hades followed your gaze to the woman leaning against the wall and his eyes narrowed at the woman. Her eyes widened and she pushed off the wall, quickly blending into the crowd and disappearing.

“I swear she doesn’t trust me.” Hades spoke as he looked back to you as you were a bit shaken up. “What was that thing?” You asked. “That was a Harpy that my wife sent to watch me. Persephone has trust issues you see… One of the times she was on the surface because Demeter still wanted to have her daughter on the surface for half the year, I slept with a nymph named Menthe and Persephone found out and turned her into the mint plant…” Hades said. Your stomach twisted in knots at the absurdity of the event that gave humans mint.

“That makes sense but that’s disgusting… and she’s on your menu? Who suggested that?” You asked. “Persephone did… I think she wanted it to serve as a reminder as to what happens to the women I sleep with and she finds out. But I only wish for your companionship, nothing more.” He says, almost hesitating on that last part.

“I understand. I’ll take you up on that offer. I’ll hang around the café when you’re manning it alone and you can spend one of your breaks with me, okay?” You suggested and Hades nodded, happily going back inside the building, awaiting the day he’d be manning the café alone. You’d come back day after day, getting a small queen of the underworld, hot and reading a book you’d either bring from home or take off the shelf.  Hades was frustrated as Persephone always was nearby or within sight of you, preventing Hades from being able to approach you.

You notice Hades’s stress and get up from your seat, draining your cup and walking over to the goddess to begin chatting to her about gardening and what would be the best way to keep pests off your tomatoes and what to do with your plants when winter comes and they die off. Persephone perks up and begins chatting away about natural pesticides such as spicy peppers or garlic depending on what you wanted to use. You nodded and thanked her as you wrote down the information, watching as Persephone gave Hades a nod of approval before going to her garden outside. Hades took the opportunity to approach you and put his hand on your back, just above your shoulders.

“Shall we take a seat?” He suggested as he was holding an iced tea in his hands. You nodded and he led you over to a table in a quiet corner of the café and let you sit before sitting across from you and asking you what you were talking to Persephone about. “Oh, I was asking her about natural pesticides to use on my tomatoes. The squirrels love eating them.” You told him. Hades smiles and watches you with a look of admiration on his face. “I have some questions for you.” You spoke after a moment or two of silence.

“Oh? What might that be?” He responded. “How do you handle it all? How does one run an entire realm and have a three-headed dog running about the place all the time? How are you not stressed and worried all the time?” You asked. Hades chuckles like a deep bellow rumbling from his chest. “I keep away from my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews on Olympus. That place is crawling with stressors. Like every other week Hera is at Zeus’s throat with him having his squeeze of the month and the next half-blood that comes up claiming Zeus to be their father… I don’t know how they handle it. I’m glad where I am in the underworld with Persephone, even though she has me on a short leash.” Hades says as he glances out the window to his wife  who was watering the plants. “You love her, don’t you?” You asked as you saw the way he looked at his wife. “I do.” Hades said. The two of you then chatted together. It was a beautiful way to start a friendship The end

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Lambert’s stuck in a rut. His life’s going nowhere and his dreams never seem to leave the A1 architectural drawings he carries around in his rucksack. He has Aiden’s bar, his respectably placed outer London apartment and his Japanese Peace Lily. That is… until he meets a tall, silent bar tender with shoulders like the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau and eyes like twin suns.

CW: mutism, war injuries, Lambert running his mouth. Set up of a longer work which has never seen the light of day, but I like the opening a lot.

Lambert had been visiting the same shitty, rundown bar since graduating. Three years bachelors, two years postgrad, twelve months running after a middle-aged racist with a caffeine addiction—internship—and then five years of… this. No one prepared you for the heady heights of listless adulthood; that odd grey area between being a cutting edge, aspiring young whippersnapper and a washed out, lonely old man with seven cats. Lambert was staring down the barrel of thirty simultaneously wondering where the fuck his life was sprinting off to and what the fuck he had even done with it to begin with.

Every night he pulled a late one at the office labouring over his distant dream of sustainable, affordable housing for the working class that wasn’t a lifeless block of concrete. You know, the kind that drew inspiration from the hallowed corridors of nineteenth century Newgate prison. The kind of place that leeched the life and happiness from every one of its occupants until they were as grey and empty as their home. Someone’s community was meant to be at their heart, something that defined them. Like the roots of a tree—you know, the person being the… tree. Look, he was never so good at conceptualising his vision in words. He’d sooner draw you a fucking picture. Which is where we were fucking at right now.

Lambert had become an architect on the back of a dream he’d had sitting on a swing set in the condemned children’s playground at the very centre of his council estate. Half the kids he’d known had given up because life was grey, drugs were easy, so what’s the fucking point, right? If only they were faced with more than the grey—

That dream had driven him through his studies like a man possessed—by a demon comprising of an unhealthy amount of Monster and a stubborn, spiteful drive to succeed—followed by that tedious twelve months as a gopher, but now he was here… or there, or whatever spatial demonstrative you wanted to fucking use, he didn’t know what to do. The dream had shuddered to a halt. Red tape, politics. The kind of thing that stood fast in the face of an outsider. Because he would always be an outsider. Something—something—attitude problem.

The same thoughts gathered like a storm cloud over his head as he trudged down the steps to Aiden’s. Both the name of the place and the owner, because Aiden straddled the line between new money glam and old east end rust in a way that was both tackey and unique. He managed to pull it off somehow. Lambert threw himself down in his usual stool, dumping his satchel full of drawings at unceremoniously at his feet, and thumped his forehead on the bar. “Usual, Sal.”

Sal wasn’t his real name. His real name was Derek. But everyone called him Sal because of the time he’d stepped in for the chef, cooked the Friday night chicken curry and given everyone salmonella. Environmental health nearly had a fucking field day but, much like many of Aiden’s licensing and business woes, the matter had cleared up mysteriously overnight.

The glass tumbler settled gently on a place mat in front of Lambert’s head. He heard the pop of the cork and the slosh of expensive whiskey—he’d worked his nuts off for his salary, so he could drink it away if he wanted to, thank you very fucking much—and then nothing. No greeting. No, “‘ello mate, what’s the story?”

Lambert lifted his head to rip on Sal and ask if someone had half-inched his tongue out his ugly mug, only to almost fall from his stool in shock. The man standing before him wasn’t Sal. Nothing like him in fact. Easily clear of six feet with a few inches to spare, a scruffy mop of dark hair and a face like someone had tried to pry out his teeth with a claw hammer. There was a gap in his lip, twisted scars all the way up the side of his face to his eye and ear. Angry, red. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Lambert said, mouth running away with his thoughts before he could marshal them.

The barman didn’t even flinch. His fingers tapped on the side of the bottle, hazel eyes dropping to the fifth he’d just poured, and Lambert realised he was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement that the drink was satisfactory. Lambert tore his eyes away and tried to bury the squirming, uncomfortable feeling that came with making an absolute cunt of yourself in front of someone new. “Yeah, cheers. Uh… add it to my... tab, uh—” Lambert glanced up and caught sight of a name badge, “—Eskel.”

There was another badge next to it. Light blue, with dark letters printed in Arial font. ‘I can’t speak, but I’m a good listener’. Lambert stared at it for a moment, fingers tapping on cool glass. “Can’t speak, huh? That because of—” Lambert gestured at his own face and Eskel nodded, “—right, bummer.” Eskel nodded again, but Lambert could swear he was being laughed at. Those hazel eyes glittered with something, and it wasn’t unshed tears at being so cruelly gawped at. Well, that was a fucking relief. “Yeah, I guess bummer is the understatement of the century.”

Eskel tilted his head and ducked his chin, with a quirk of the eyebrow.

“So, if you know my drink order, you know I have mac and cheese, with crispy bacon bits, and a side of onion rings.”

Another nod. Lambert squinted.

“You know, I’ll… uh—is Aiden out back? Fucker owes me a pony from the last—”

Lambert didn’t get through his excuse before he was sliding from the stool and hot footing it around the rope barrier to the back room. The corridor leading to Aiden’s office always smelled of industrial strength disinfectant and drunken regrets, and Lambert rubbed at his nose as he pushed through the door.

“Please, come in, not like I’m up to my bollocks in paperwork,” Aiden murmured, ensconced behind a teetering pile of brown folders and a box-shaped computer monitor from the early noughties. He was in his late-thirties, with wisps of grey hinting in his neatly groomed beard. Sharp green eyes left the lines of neat print on off-white paper for barely a second to acknowledge Lambert’s presence. “Shit week?”

“About a six on the shit-o-meter,” Lambert replied, gaze sliding sideways as the pinball machine to his left squealed and trilled. Gaetan, short, with a clean-shaven head, docs and a cut-off denim jacket, grumbled irritably as he missed out on beating Lambert’s high score. “Alright?” he asked and received a grunt in return. Gaetan was just shy of twenty years Aiden’s junior and oozed ‘younger brother complex’ from his every pore.

“Six isn’t bad.” Aiden sighed and threw his pen onto the table. “So, what’s the rub? Bacon not crispy enough?”

“What happened to Sal?”

“He finally bought that ticket to Marbella. Him and the missus flew out last night on the red eye.”

“That selfish prick,” Lambert growled. “Not even a by your fucking leave.”

Aiden shrugged and tapped morosely at his keyboard. Most of Aiden’s employees were itinerant in some way; students looking for a quick buck at the weekend, job-hoppers still searching for their calling and lazy schmucks looking for an easy ride only to realise that bar work was hard going. But Sal had been a permanent fixture for the last ten years, always dreaming about a ticket to the sun, and then wasting his pay packet on the horses or weekend jollies to France for cheap box wine.

Lambert rubbed at his beard. “The new guy. He for real?”

“Eskel?”

“Yeah.” Lambert yanked a rickety old chair over from the wall and sat on it backwards, arms folded beneath his chin. “Looks like one of Emhyr’s goons used him as a scratching post. ‘I can’t speak but I’m a good listener’?”

“He’s former forces. Not sure which. He’s… uh, part of that new government initiative. Veterans’ Strategy Action Plan.”

“Thought that was meant to put them in prisons and healthcare and shit?” It wasn’t unusual for Aiden to get involved in charity cases. Despite his feeble attempts at cultivating a fearsome reputation, he was a soft touch with a heart of gold. There wasn’t an AA programme, drug rehabilitation scheme, ex-con reform schtick or fresh start for young offenders’ initiative that he wasn’t involved in. Something about giving back to the community, or doing right by his dad, or something. Everyone had their dreams.

“Eskel’s… uh, he’s got some shit goin’ on in his head, you know. What he went through was hard. He’s happy to do some security on Saturday nights, knows how to pour a good Godfather, so he’s a decent gamble.”

“Shit going on in his head?”

Aiden narrowed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. “You know that’s confidential, and I’ve already told you too much. Fuck off and eat your dinner, I’ve got shit to do. I’ll join you for a quick one before you leave.”

Lambert rolled his eyes and left the office, pausing only long enough to bid farewell Gaetan and receive another grunt in reply. By the time he returned to the bar, Eskel was placing his mac and cheese on a neat place mat next to his whiskey. Lambert paused at the corner, taking a moment to admire the line of Eskel’s waistcoat around his muscular frame. Not too shabby. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having some new eye candy around the place. Eye candy that didn’t talk back. Winner-winner-chicken-dinner.

“He was busy,” Lambert informed Eskel as he sat down at the bar. Eskel afforded him another nod, with a quirked brow, and then turned back to wiping down the pint glass in his hands. Lambert picked up his fork and focused on wolfing down his dinner as quickly as humanly possible. He watched Eskel work discreetly, looking up only when Eskel’s back was turned or his focus elsewhere. Lambert watched his forearms flex as he restocked the fridge with bottled cider, the fold of his shirt collar beneath the rugged line of his jaw with its light peppering of dark stubble. It was because Lambert hadn’t been laid in—

He began to run the numbers and it was just so fucking depressing he stopped—

—which was why he was hyper focused. New slab of man meat. Yeah. It had absolutely nothing to do with the meandering thoughts set a-wanderin’ by Aiden’s vague comments. What was the ‘something going on’ in Eskel’s head? What did his voice sound like? What had happened to his face? What did he like to do at the weekend, and did it involve lube—?

It was too awkward. Every time Lambert opened his mouth to talk, he knew he’d get that same calm look, perhaps the eyebrow, and in the end, he said nothing.

Aiden appeared an hour later—for Lambert, it had been an hour of pretending to play Candy Crush on his phone while watching Eskel go about his duties—and they shared a beer, a few giggles, and then Lambert headed home to his empty apartment to water his Japanese Peace Lily. No, it wasn’t a fucking euphemism. Vesemir said he couldn’t be trusted with another living thing. Not even a goldfish. He couldn’t even cook (although Lambert argued that those two things definitely didn’t fucking correlate, and boiling pasta definitely counted as cooking). He laid in bed that night and stared at the ceiling, thinking about Eskel and his quiet, calm eyes.

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D WIRELESS 2024 - WEEKLY WRAP-UP #4

🎤 Can you believe we’ve had four weeks of amazing creations already? We certainly can’t! We hope you’re enjoying the works inspired by music that hit just the right tone to make them into unique drarry fics, art, and podfics.

There are enough works for us to post for one last week of glorious Drarry goodness, so buckle up for the final countdown! 🎶

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there) ❤️ And here for the YouTube playlist.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 The Shape I found you in [Not Rated, Digital art]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'The Shape I found you in' by 'Girlyman'  🎵 Summary: But your heart was busy within,  Building bomb shelters under your skin.  That's the shape I found you in

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic and Art 🎶

📻 Thunder [E, 11,325, digital]

🎵 Song Prompt: "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac  🎵 Summary: Harry and Ginny are on a break. Harry and Ginny don’t want anyone to know. Harry assumes Ginny is fucking their way through their Quidditch team. Harry punches Draco Malfoy in the face in his free time. Harry considers this a perfectly reasonable coping mechanism. Harry figures that as long as he keeps everything the way that it is, that everything will stay the same, and nothing bad will happen, and Ginny will stay with him, and Malfoy will keep quietly visiting his dreams.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 crawlin' helpless on the floor [M, 1,525]

🎵 Song Prompt: Cure For Pain by Morphine  🎵 Summary: It doesn't take much to torment a man when he's three broken contracts away from being out of a job and down a newspaper.

📻 Hell is the talkin' type [E, 7,309]

🎵 Song Prompt: Dinner and Diatribes by Hozier  🎵 Summary: “Morgana, I need a drink,” Draco sighs. “Why did I let you convince me to participate in this torture again?”  Harry chuckles. “Because I’m your husband, and you love me?” he offers.  “Bah. Remind me not to let myself be so sentimental next time.”

📻 Mr Blue Sky [E, 69,024]

🎵 Song Prompt: ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ by ‘Electric Light Orchestra’  🎵 Summary: Mr Blue Sky, please tell us why, you had to hide away for so long...   After five years, Malfoy had finally escaped house arrest, and he moved in just a few streets down from Grimmauld Place. Overnight, the Daily Prophet seemed to fall in love with him. For his charity work, and his charming smile, and—Harry was sure—his prattish fucking personality. No matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't stop running into him.  He had bigger problems, though. His best friends in the world were having a baby together, which was fantastic, except that they weren't sure he could hold it together well enough to be Godfather.  But despite being flat broke, with a dead dad, and no one willing to risk hiring him, Malfoy appeared to be completely in control of the narrative surrounding his newfound freedom. Maybe Harry could learn a thing or two from the best of the best.  After all, he had the entire pregnancy to convince Ron and Hermione he was perfectly, entirely, 100% fine. If sometimes he had to fistfight Malfoy about it, well, that was nothing new.

📻 'tis the damn season [M, 2,892]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift  🎵 Summary: He doesn’t know why the universe seems to keep placing him in Potter’s proximity every time he returns to London. He doesn’t know how they keep falling into bed, every year, like clockwork.  Draco has tried not to question it.

📻 Tecum Ad Astra [M, 3,257]

🎵 Song Prompt: Levitating by Dua Lipa  🎵 Summary: It's Friday night and Harry Potter is relaxing with a good book in front of a crackling fire.  But he should be at the club.

📻 Music to my ears [E, 13,190]

🎵 Song Prompt: River flows in You, Yiruma  🎵 Summary: Harry is completely captivated by the beautiful music played on a street piano at a park in Cambridge. He is, however, unprepared for whom the pianist turns out to be.

📻 Pancakes for Dinner [T, 2,176]

🎵 Song Prompt: Pancakes for Dinner by Lizzie McAlpine  🎵 Summary: Draco’s on a trip to visit Harry in his new city at his new job. He’s not brave enough to say how he really feels.

📻 Seasons [E, 9,314]

🎵 Song Prompt: Águas de Março (Waters of March) by Antônio Carlos Jobim  🎵 Summary: Seconds pass, and it’s like he can see Draco worrying the sliver of glass in his heart, looking for a way to press it out, to expose the wound to the sun. It’s life; Harry can be patient.

[shy-nightmare]

Hi! 👋 So.....I had another dream not too long ago. I was gonna tell you guys about it, but I had it while I was drawing your Christmas surprise 🎄 I'm still gonna share while it's still fresh in my mind 🤣

Before I tell you about it, let me explain why I'm sharing a video (I've finally figured out how to post a YouTube video on Tumblr! YAAAAYYYY!!! 🥳). So this is Secret Cinema, an organization located in London dedicated to creating unique and immersive cinema experiences of your favorite movies, such as Guardians of the Galaxy, Back to the Future, and yes, you guess correct, Who Framed Roger Rabbit! Their productions are known for:

1. Using abandoned or disused buildings as site-specific settings.

2. Hiring actors from the movie and even inviting members of the audience to join in reenacting live scenes from the movie. That's right. ANYONE can join! 😁

3. Having an all-day experience that lasts up to five hours divided into two parts; the first part is like an open world video game where you can interact with the characters, explore the sets, and you can choose your own adventures! 🤩 The second part is the screening of the movie or TV show. Don't know what that means though, lol 🤪

You guys can check out their YouTube channel FUTURE or visit the website to learn more! 👇

OK, now it's story time. @weaselnerd, @los-angeles-toon-patrol, @lastofautumn, and @trashogram, grab some snacks and get comfy! @marinerainbow and @spookiifi, I hope you guys find this hilarious because this is what I have to deal with 🤣

So I'm in my bed sleeping, right? It's been a long day, my hand's sore from coloring for hours, and I just want a good night's sleep. One moment I'm snoozing, next thing I know I'm stuck in a strangely familiar place and I find myself at a table surrounded by other people.

I say to myself, "Where the hell am I?"

The lights go dim, the curtains slowly open...and I see a group of actors playing Roger Rabbit, Eddie Valiant, and the Toon Patrol. The crowd goes W I L D! 👏🤩👏🤩👏🤩👏🤩👏🤩👏

Flabbergasted, I'm like, "Wait, am I in the cinema?! 🤩"

GUYS, I WAS IN THE CINEMA! WITH THE CREW! HOLY SHIT! ⭐⭐⭐

They were replaying the scene at the bar where Eddie tricks Roger into drinking a glass of bourbon and he wrecks the place while Eddie fights off the weasels. Smartass kicks him in the balls, Eddie swings a bottle at him, and the duo escapes the bar with the help of Benny the Cab.

And guess who was chasing Benny?

Greasy. Of course, the bastard haunts me in my sleep. AGAIN 🙄

Benny looks over his shoulder to see Greasy about to chase after him, he turns to me and says, "I'm so screwed 😨".

And I'm just like, "Buddy, you think YOU'RE screwed? 🤨I barely escaped him and Smartass seducing me! 💢"

Thought I'd share this silly dream with you before I start coloring my new drawing tomorrow 😊

[murmew]

Cafe 1 - London Fog

"This is...?"

Vertin retrieved her hand and placed it on Sonetto's tidy desk next to a small stack of papers. "London fog, something for you to enjoy while working."

A vaguely sweet aroma floated up to greet her as she looked down at the mug topped with foam. It was a scent that she recognized. "This drink is the same one you ordered from the cafe we visited last week."

Vertin seemed to be a bit surprised, her eyebrows raising slightly. "You remembered that?"

"Yes, I also remember that Regulus ordered an iced caramel mocha topped with whipped cream, Druvis a latte, and Sotheby a cup of lemon black tea with honey."

A small laugh made Sonetto look up in confusion. "Did I get one of their orders wrong...?"

Vertin shook her head lightly. "No, I was just thinking about how you only got a glass of milk then."

"Milk is a better source of hydration than water. Moreover..." She trailed off. "I'm not familiar with many drinks."

That's right. That afternoon, Sonetto who had pondered long and hard about her drink of choice, settled on milk. It would have been a glass of water if not for the basis that water would have been too odd of a choice for the setting. Of course, Vertin had noticed.

"Let's use our weeklong holiday as an opportunity for you to get more familiar with all sorts of drinks then." Vertin gently pushed the London fog closer to Sonetto and gestured for her to give it a try. "Let today be London fog."

"Rog-" Sonetto caught herself. Rather than taking an order this was something much more light-hearted. "I mean, thank you, Timekeeper."

Vertin didn't mind, only crossing her arms and leaning against Sonetto's desk. With both hands, Sonetto cupped the mug, its gentle warmth permeated her gloves. Bringing the rim to her lips, she took a small sip. Her eyes widened as she was met with a unique milky fragrance. A gentle sweetness paired with a touch of lavender.

"It's good..." Sonetto's posture relaxed as she took another sip, this time less tentatively. "I'll be sure to keep this flavor in mind for future reference."

Vertin suppressed a smile. Looks like the earnest and studious side of Sonetto never left her even now. "A bit tastier than milk, isn't it?"

The answer was obvious, but Sonetto nodded regardless, cheeks dusted pink. "It is."

[lovejosephquinn]

Authors Note: I am so excited about this. I've been brainstorming all last night and today and I think it's going to go well, I think it'll either be a 4 or 5 part series atm, we'll see how it works out. Thanks for reading, please reblog if you enjoy it or leave a comment if you wish to kept up to date with future parts! 🥰

Summary: You’d set your sights on him and he on you. It all started with a visit to a newly talked about bar which kept you coming more regularly, in the end not just for a drink but yet the inevitability of a creeping flame set alight by a stare which kept dragging you back. After all, lust shouts and love whispers and in the end, only the heart knows the difference.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Slow burn, intimidating meets intrigue, a little bit of sexual intension if you look close enough Word Count: 2.6k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @joeschains @daleyeahson @itsfreakingbats @etherealglimmer @kayleeelena97 @xlilithb @live-love-be-unique @lma1986 @shawnamae87 @fluffysmutmnstr @ches-86 @aysheashea @definitionwanderlust @palomahasenteredthechat @figmentofquinn @harringtonfan4 @chrissy-mj-stan

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

To you it was a regular Friday night, you'd just finished work and you were heading through the hustle and bustling streets of London with your colleague. Pub Friday was a heavy reoccurrence, much needed after a long week of 9 to 5, it was the only excuse you had to let your hair down and tonight you'd planned to head over to a newish bar that had opened just shy of a few weeks ago, a huge recommendation by one of your other work friends saying that they'd been and it was a pretty decent place to go to.

Truth be told it was tiresome going to the same place every time, seeing the same faces drowning their sorrows in their drinks, the same couples having the same boring arguments and the same old men staring at you from their non owned and practically unreserved tables in the corner of the room.

You move through the double doors which lead into the unfamiliar space, quieter than what you're used to to say the least. You're faced with the beautiful scenery of a long bar, shelved behind it are at least 100 different bottles of spirits. Tables sprouted around the large room with borderline fancy décor set around the walls to compliment them, it was a vision to behold, a pretty penny had clearly gone into this business and it showed, you were truly mesmerised by the care that was given from a clear renovation, that was until he caught your eye.

Originally he'd had his back turned to you and was nothing but a shadow in your field of vision but the moment you caught a glimpse of his side profile, you almost felt a sudden state of nausea, a strange attraction to someone you'd only spent checking out for practically a millisecond. Then he looked over, it all happened in slow motion. You and your colleague still stood in the doorway like a couple of idiots. The bartender smirked a grin your way, welcoming but intimidating all the same.

"Welcome ladies." The most beautiful sound you'd ever heard came out of him, it was simple yet effective enough to have you swooning, your friend had elbowed you back into reality by the time she'd caught your jaw falling to the floor.

Your friend dragged you over to the bar, the mysterious man was drying down a couple of glasses previously owned by customers which had been handed in once they were leaving.

"How do you like my place?" his eyes remained on you, it was like your soul was being ripped apart by his retinas and he'd stolen all ability for you to even respond.

"It's nice here yeah." Your friend spoke for you, removing his eye contact you for the first time since he'd spotted the two of you at the front of he bar.

"This is your bar?" You said it in a way so sarcastic that you made him scoff. Nice one. His eyes rolled back to find your features reflecting through the beautiful brown colours that sparkled in his iris, a slight darkness added to them through the dimmed lighting, was that intentional or not because it only seemed to be clear enough to see when he was looking right at you.

"It's my bar indeed darling, what or who were you expecting?" The skilful chat this man had in giving you back the response you had quickly spirted out and alighted what looked like an irritation in him. Your thumbs twiddled together as you perched yourself onto the stool next to you, unnerved and excited.

"Never mind." He shook his head. "The name's Joe. What can I get you?"

You both ordered yourselves a large glass of white wine, offering the money over to Joe before he smacked your hand away.

"This ones on me." You tried to offer it again, an almost silent refusal that you would be paying for the drinks you'd been given. Joe took the £10 note out of your hand and put his hands under the bar, acting as though he was fumbling around under there, making himself look busy, slight confusion hit you when his hands eventually came back to eye view he was cupping a pint glass which had the note he'd just taken from you firmly rolled inside of it.

"I said this one's on me." You bit back on your laughter, taking out the money from the glass and slipping it back into your bag, accepting defeat, sipping on your wine you offer him a warm smile, his lips were firmly pressed into a line, you couldn't exactly read him very well, he played a poker face that you couldn't quite shake. You were subdued and it had only been 10 minutes in his company.

Your friend made it feel the most awkward of moments when she announced she was going to the toilet and left you alone with him, luckily he got to serving someone else so by the time he was done, she'd probably be back, but obviously to your bitter disappointment that wasn't the case and Joe was straight back over to you, arms leaning against the bar as he bent down to meet you at your level, the towel he was once cleaning the glasses with now lazily laid over his shoulder like an accessory. There was something so soft about his features, something so brutally innocent which lead you to believe that it was all a façade with the tone in his voice when speaking to you, a completely dissociated difference.

"So you never told me your name?" Why in this stupid time and place did you forget your own name, did you mean to stutter through the saliva that was circulating quickly, stumbling over your own tongue.

"It's uh- it's Y/N."

"Pretty name for a pretty lady." That made you bite your lip and he for sure noticed, his eyes made their own way to watch you do it, his own world now moving in slow motion from the deep breath he partook in once you'd shot the flirtatious body language back at him.

"Did you mean to do that?" Your cheeks released a flush of deep red, realising that you'd actually just done that to a complete stranger, a stranger you were obviously completely hot for.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." You felt like you'd knocked him for six with your response, you were in sudden guard of attempting to faulter his clear confidence in talking to women. It didn't work.

"Only when I mean it." Your friend saved the day when you felt her presence right back at your side again, he shot a wink at you and walked away to serve someone who'd just come through the door.

You completely drowned out the conversation you were clearly not involved in with your friend, watching everything that Joe was doing so intricately, he looked so beautiful doing the simplest of things and that was so threatening to you, your heart and head were speaking completely different languages at this point. Even if this was the first time you'd met him, you were to make sure it wouldn't be the last because there was something about him and you knew yourself, once you were intrigued by something or someone; you were determined to find out.

With the bar getting slightly busier through the evening, he was pre occupied elsewhere, the glances were often yet short, shotting the last one of your wine you left without saying goodbye, imagining his disappointment and creating a fantasy for yourself of him feeling cast down that you'd left so quickly without getting to know him. Why were you kidding yourself? He probably wouldn't of remembered you the next time you went in anyway, but your imagination was throwing that version of future events to the side because it wasn't just a normal look you'd been given, that wasn't how normal hello's were exchanged. You were probably overthinking the whole ordeal, but you had to go back and see. If he remembered, then your heart was right, if he didn't your head was just playing tricks on you, the first option sounded better but the second was probably more feasible.

You prepared yourself for the boring Saturday evening up and coming close, no plans made you took the spontaneity that was lingering in your every being to get ready and go to the bar, after all the mystery man named Joe was all you could muster to think about.

You dressed up to the nines for someone that probably wouldn't shoot their eyes your way again. Not something you'd usually do since your anxiety ridden body wouldn't normally let you, but there was a form of excitement in you so powerful that kept you going for tonight, it would probably be deflated as soon as you found out you were wrong and foolish for going back for the reasons you were and for all intense and purposes you made sure you were to stand out from the crowd.

Entering the bar, it was slightly busier than the previous day, the weekend truly in force and the people of London ready to party until the early hours of the morning. You suddenly felt out of place, all alone in the middle of a bar attempting to see the man who only flirted with you for all of half an hour yesterday, there were more staff located behind the bar, you wandered over, eyes prying all over the place just to even witness a peak of him.

Both a hot and cold sweat came over you when you couldn't see him, all but a crowd of bodies scattered around the room, you felt slightly dizzy in your wake and moved over to step to the front door, quickly deciding it was probably better to give this a miss and accepting you were probably wrong in what you'd been thinking for the last 24 hours. Before you even put your hand on the door, you felt a hand grip to your arm, pulling you towards them with brute force, swerving yourself around to take a look, a slightly older man stood before you, immediately looking you up and down, making your whole body shudder and not the good kind. He leaned down into your ear.

"Lost?"

"No I was just leaving, was trying to find my friend."

"I'll be your friend, come have a drink with me."

"I'm good thanks."

His grip had remained on your arm, you'd attempted to step back but the wall had gotten in the way and you suddenly felt trapped.

"Come on. I won't take no for an answer, one drink."

"I said no, thank you." You tried to be as polite as you could before you were on your way to losing your tether, moving your hand over his you attempted to get him off you, but he squeezed tighter. What kind of creep does this in this day and age, the obvious answer was the entitled pricks that thought they were gods gift to women and didn't like nor understand the word no.

His other hand brushed your hair off of your shoulder, making you squirm disgustingly from his calloused fingers.

"Please let me go."

"When you have a drink with me."

You began to panic when all at once, time and space moved in the blink of an eye and the man was pulled backwards by your now knight in shining armour. You looked up to see Joe, clinging to his shoulders, ragging him towards him, instantly releasing you, you gazed down at the red marks from the way his hand had held you so tightly.

"She said no, mate. Think it's time you were leaving, think you've had enough." The man stormed out in a huff after looking at the seriousness of the pupils that were dilating Joe's eyes from the spout of anger of seeing someone handle a woman in that way; the wrong way.

"Thank you." You felt Joe's hand move over to inspect what could of only been described as a minor injury to your skin, his thumb soothed over making goose bumps reappear over his strokes.

"You're welcome pretty girl. What brings you back here?"

"Just for a drink."

"Alone?" Joe raised an eyebrow, that same shit smirk hitting his lips which made you feel pure infuriation yet made you want to jump him.

"Alone."

"To see me more like." You gulped your saliva back, a heavy breath inhaled when you felt him move closer to you.

"In your dreams." You rolled your eyes.

"No darling, in yours." Joe glared at your movement, taking your hand and bringing you over to the bar.

"So what will it be? Wine?"

"A shot of tequila bar boy."

Joe barked laughter at you, taking out two shot glasses and pouring the lethal spirit into them.

"Two?"

"Cheers Y/N." You picked up your glass, clinking them together you took the shot in unison. The burn felt good at this point but all your brain could muster was that he remembered you. Your heart was pounding and you couldn't even decipher word in the English language to describe how you were feeling right now.

"Before you go and try handing me the cash again, I've got a better idea." You were so predictable to him by this point, you felt instant defeat because your next move would of been to find the money to pay him for the shot. Intrigued by his words, you took a deep breath again, completely wrapped around his little finger to find out what he meant by that.

"Okay?"

"Just to put it out there, you're really fucking attractive darling." He leaned further, your faces inches away from each other. "I know you came here to see me again. I know the feelings mutual. You give me your number and once I get off work tomorrow, you come here and I'll show you what you came for tonight." He moved back, tapping his fingers against the bar. An offer, is that what it was?

Pulling out his phone, he offered it to you to tap your phone into the keypad. You were too flustered and shaky to even respond by this point, but you did it any way. This guy could of been anyone, but you really needed to explore his proposal, after all it's not everyday you feel this down for someone so quickly, you're not losing out either way.

"Good girl." Joe saved your number into his phone. His way with words had you tingling in every crevice of your body, you weren't sure if it was the tequila making you feel this way or whether it was the way he clouded your thoughts with his fiery look.

"Do I get to find out what's happening tomorrow?"

"All in good time."

The bar had gotten even busier by the time you'd managed to look away from him since you'd got to the bar with Joe. He was pulled to the side by one of his employees and when he came back he had a look of annoyance in his face, made softer once again when he saw you sat minding your own business.

"You going to be okay getting home?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." You rolled your eyes again.

"We'll see about that."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You bit your lip.

You felt his throat strain, a low grunt emerging.

"We'll see." His game was being played twice as hard as yours, you could of cut the tension with a knife.

Joe's hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear, leaning down he placed a brief kiss on your cheek, the sensation travelled to your core and you were suddenly hooked.

Fuck.

"Until tomorrow." Joe moved away slowly, the now familiar smirk crossing your line of vision once more.

Double fuck.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Full moon with Steven grant

2023 Fall Blurbs

Most people assume that they know Steven, that he's shy and awkward and reserved and quiet. But you know the truth about him, that he’s full of sass and sarcasm, that he’s brave and hardworking and always down for an adventure. Steven, more than any of the other alters, is the one who finds unique restaurants that you need to try, little shops hours away you need to visit, plans romantics dates and doesn’t let you know anything you’ll be doing.

Tonight, as soon as you’d walked through the door, tired to the bone after work and desperately needing some time with your boys, Steven had told you to get changed into something comfortable and be ready to leave in twenty minutes. Despite how badly you wanted to lay down and fall asleep until the morning, you knew that whatever Steven had planned would be perfect, so you managed to change your clothes without falling asleep standing up.

Once you were all cozy in one of Steven’s jumpers, you made your way to the kitchen to see him stuffing a bag full of snacks, but when you opened your mouth to ask what the plan was, he just gently steered you towards the living room.

“Can’t ruin the surprise now, can I?” He says as he makes his way back to the kitchen once he’s satisfied you won’t try snooping around again.

“How long is this surprise going to last?” You ask when he’s finally leading you from the apartment, bag on his shoulder and your hand tucked into his.

“You’ll see,” he responds ominously, with the brilliant smile that you love so much. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth as long as he kept smiling at you like that.

The two of you strolled through London hand in hand, and you couldn’t help but notice when you walked past all your usual restaurants and parks and date night spots. It seems like you’re walking for hours, Steven leading you along and chattering happily about his day and something Marc had wanted you to know as if you weren’t losing your mind trying to decipher where he was taking you.

Eventually, you slow to a stop, and Steven glances around quickly before turning back to you with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Close your eyes, yeah?” You do as he asks, theatrically placing your hands over your eyes so he knows you aren’t peaking, and then you can hear him rustling through the bag, “Almost ready, love, I promise.”

A few moments later, the noises stop and you feel Steven place his hands softly on your shoulders.

“Tada,” he says, and you open your eyes to see a beautiful picnic spread out under the full moon and an even more beautiful Steven, looking so nervous and so proud of his work.

“This is gorgeous,” you tell him, in awe of the view and the work that he put into the surprise. All your favorite snacks are spread out, along with a pile of fluffy blankets to keep you warm in the chilly London nights. He really does think of everything, always remembering your favorite snacks and drinks and colors, remembers all the little details about you that anyone else would forget.

“I know,” he replies, and when you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back at you.