#alternate universe - coffee shops and cafes

[lvndrblue]

i think, in your typical “barista x florist au,” or in a world where, satoru gojo and suguru geto get to peacefully retire in their late 30s after nourishing a new generation of sorcerers and start a joint library/bookshop/cafe/flower shop, satoru would not be the one running the cafe.

given his heightened senses, a cafe during rush hour would absolutely overwhelm him. plus, part of the job is to recalibrate the espresso machine every morning; which involves tasting very bitter coffee multiple times, and we all know how much of a sweet tooth he has.

the flower shop, though? he loves it there. he read once that plants listen when you talk and ran with it. every morning, he practically skips into the shop to talk to his plants. he’d grab the watering can and say hello to each individual orchid. he’d prune the browning leaves of a sunflower while humming to it. as he watches his personal cactus get its share of bottom watering, he’d go on a tangent about how hot suguru is when he’s focused.

who could blame him? the concentrated on suguru’s face when he prepares orders creates 50% of their sales, after all. (the coffees and cakes are good too. just, people buy more when a pretty face is behind the counter.)

suguru didn’t think he’d enjoy steaming milk and brewing coffee before, but after a week of testing it out and discovering his natural talent for latte art, there was nothing else he’d rather do. the customers, the inventory checking, the ingredient prep—they’re all fine. where he finds peace and joy, however, is when he gets to put ingredients together to create a beverage.

how a slightly modified ratios can create an entirely different flavor profile. which temperature is correct for brewing each type of coffee and tea. how syrups and essences of the same flavor can actually give contrasting effects to the drink. how liquids swirl and create a gradient of color in a glass.

the amount of detail that needs to be put into one cup fascinates him, but it doesn’t stop him from creating and pushing limits. he knows there’s the “proper” way of preparing a macchiato, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try and make a new variant from a flower in their shop. well, he does it to test boundaries, sure, but also to see satoru’s eyes sparkle whenever he succeeds in creating a new recipe.

sometimes new customers gather enough courage to not just place orders, but also ask for their barista’s or florist’s number. regulars can only sigh and shake their head in pity, knowing their efforts are for naught. they’ve caught the owners spoon feeding each other strawberry shortcake on a table decorated with fresh osmanthus flowers way too many times to still hope for a chance.

(they’ve caught them giggling and kissing behind a book rack a couple times too, but that’s for the newcomers to discover themselves.)

[apoljuise]

What would happen if they met?

I don't know what will happen, but it's probably a good thing or a bad thing or both. -∆-

PT1

Well…let’s say that Dice doesn’t like the cafe that much so he doesn’t give af. I got exited to see another cafe au, I love it!!

Bonus

@askbugbearcafe

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku Cafe AU

No Quirks AU

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories linked below are not mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check Ratings.

Art work by @artisticookie.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

How to swoon a little bunny?

Summary: Katsuki often brought his work to the café, normally to do paper work or go over on-going cases that were until recently, Katsuki made eye contact with the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, a little curly bunny, forest green hair which reminded of when he goes mountain hiking, freckles that reminded him of the stars in a clear nights sky, a cute little button nose he wanted to bite, those eyes bright and beautiful like a freshly polished emerald, Katsuki was swooned right away, he wasn’t aware he was even capable of such feelings he always wasn’t aware how pathetic he is, he couldn’t even muster more than 5 words to the bunny, he was ashamed.

How will Katsuki ever get a date if he keeps choking every time he saw Izuku?

Complete | 2 Chapters | Hybrid AU

Rated - Explicit

Rain, rain, don't go away by Okieitsfine

Summary: An annoying regular keeps on coming to the cafe Katsuki works at. Every time he comes, he brings in a pile of slush along with his rain filled boots and matted green curls.

It’s April, you know- rainy weather. But that doesn’t excuse the absolute mess that his guy always brings in.

What gives?

— — —

Or: The generic Cafe AU no one asked for with college student Izuku and angry barista Katsuki.

Incomplete | 5/? CH | College AU

Last Updated 2020

Rated - Mature

Mocha by dumbbottomenergy

Summary: "What coffee are you today, Kacchan?"

Deku asks the same question every day and maybe Katsuki wishes he gave him an answer when he still had the chance.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

Decaffeinated by Cloudsu

Summary: “Café latte for Momo!” he exclaims. He waits for the pretty brunette to come to claim her drink before he turns to Katsuki again, resting a hip on the counter with his arms crossed. “I said, all you have to do is ask. You think I won’t take you in the back room and fuck you?”

The angry red blush on Katsuki’s cheeks darkens, and he has the sudden need to pinch himself.

“I-I…what?” Katsuki says in confusion, his eyes unable to look anywhere but Izuku’s face as the man smirks down at him.

--

Or the one where Katsuki thirsts over his coworker until they've both had quite enough of pining in silence.

One Shot | Trans Bakugo

Rated - Explicit

Cupid Cafe by kjuzera

Summary: Around four o'clock in the afternoon, the Cupid Cafe was crowded. Bakugou's attention turned to the most annoying cupid of all: Deku. The bastard did not take the smile off his face, he served all customers as if they were the best people in the fucking world. He did not miss orders and served everything perfectly. Irritating to say the least.

One Shot | College AU

Rated - Explicit

Salted Caramel by OnyxDragons

Summary: Student Katsuki runs into a nerdy Deku at a local coffee shop. First impressions aren’t always the best...

Complete | 3 Chapters | College AU

Rated - Explicit

I Just Like You Kacchan! by Rainymilktea

Summary: Izuku is a clumsy, virgin, barista. After a few embarrassing run-ins with a big, sexy blonde, Izuku decides he wants to be in a relationship. But does the flirty blonde want to? Eventual smut

One Shot | College AU

Rated - Explicit

Fixations by Hachimitsuun

Summary: “Oh you are on, name the terms.” Sero grins wide, white teeth gleaming and black eyes shining. How they can both look so confident is beyond Izuku.

“If I win and you lose, which you will, Midoriya has to get his tongue pierced,” Kaminari states, and Izuku’s head snaps over to him.

“Wait, what?!”

“Okay, then when I win and you lose, Midoriya has to get a tattoo saying ‘Kaminari sucks’ on his ass.”

“Hold on just a second, what on earth does this have to do with me?!”

--

Izuku just wants to continue going through his ordinary life while keeping his oral fixation a secret, but his friends are idiots, and now his secret is up in the air.

One Shot | Tattoo Parlor AU

Rated - Explicit

The Bunny's Burrow by RadPax

Summary: At 14 years old Izuku came out to his mother as transgender and a week later she pulled him from school and transferred him somewhere else and started him on testosterone. She wasn't about to have her only son be bullied relentlessly and misgendered.Since then its been over a decade since Izuku has seen anyone from his childhood neighborhood, that is until his old bully Katsuki Bakugou wanders into his cafe one morning and the two are forced to meet again.But it almost seems like Katsuki doesn't remember who Izuku is? And his face keeps getting red for some reason!?

(AU where Izuku owns a cafe and is trans, and Katsuki attempts to court the little guy while being terrible at it.)

Incomplete | 11/? CH | Trans Deku

Last Updated 2022

Rated - Mature

i want to scream but i can't by lordyuuri

Summary: Reunions aren't always happy nor always welcomed.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Person A is a barista at a coffee shop who reads too much fanfiction and tries to ship their various regulars together, but their hardest challenge yet is Person B. Person B catches on to what Person A is doing after the third failed matchmaking attempt and confronts Person A - but instead of asking Person A to stop, they say the only person they’re interested in dating in the coffee shop is Person A themself.

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Title: you smiled and it was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen

Written by: wafflesofdoom

Rated: G

Catagory: M/M

Warnings: None

Relationship: Buck/Eddie

Tags: Alternative-Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Developing Relationship, Light Angst

Words: 13,544

Summary:

Eddie had always loved coffee. From the moment his parents had deemed him old enough to drink it, he’d loved coffee – he loved the smell, the taste, and most of all, he loved the process of making it. So, it was inevitable that'd he'd end up in Los Angeles, and take over Diaz's Café from his grandmother.

He just never imagined he'd meet the love of his life while doing it.

or, a 911-style ode to the classic coffee shop au trope.

My notes: absolutely fantastic read! It's so sweet and very good written! It made me smile so much. I don't often read AUs, but this reminded me that I should. 100% recommended!

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 29: Single Parents/Uncles AU for an event by @bagginshieldweek24

I deeply regret that the challenge is a day late! Exams are merciless to me, and even though I started drawing in advance, I still couldn’t handle the deadline 😅 I promise to catch up with feedback tomorrow, after passing bioinformatics exam.

More headcanons and details under the cut>>

— It’s an alternative Middle-earth universe with hobbits, humans, dwarves, and elves, but set in modern times.

— Thorin grew up in Erebor in a royal family (which makes sense), is accustomed to good coffee, can distinguish different types, and knows which brewing devices are best. Now he has moved to London for work and discovered that both dwarf and human coffee shops would often use cheap beans or bad coffee machines, or they grind the beans incorrectly, or even set the wrong amount of grams of coffee per espresso shot. In general, they save money wherever they can, mostly selling the vibe and relying on the fact that taste isn’t important to most of the customers. Elves occupy the niche of coffee connoisseurs, but Thorin would rather drink filter coffee from a kettle on the roadside than go to elves. And then he discovers that hobbits, little hedonists, love good food and GOOD COFFEE! Of course, in hobbit cafes, he has to sit on low chairs and by the small tables, and at first, the other patrons looked at the dwarf in their company strangely, but it’s worth it. Thorin is willing to sit with a bent back if he gets a quiet and cozy atmosphere, excellent Wi-Fi, and delicious coffee (an office in London is good, but sometimes you need to get out of the four walls to not get nuts).

— Thorin rarely drinks pure espresso, preferring softer variations. He also has a sweet-tooth.

— Bilbo is a children’s book writer, mainly known for a series of fantasy novels about a brave hobbit who traveled over and under the mountains, rode in barrels, and played riddles in the dark (Bilbo, in canon, wrote his memoirs, which all hobbits except Merry and Frodo knew primarily for Hobbiton children, so I think he would primarily write for little hobbit kids).

— It’s not a real feather he uses, but a ballpoint pen with attached feathers, like those sold in souvenir shops. Bilbo bought it after a tour to the Tower of London. He likes the ✨vibe✨ and the fact that he can twirl the feather part around his lips when he’s thinking. (It’s literally an instruction on how to seduce Thorin)

— Mr. Baggins only drinks doppio. The cup is big compared to him because it’s hobbit ceramics, and the portion sizes for hobbits, who love treats, are no smaller than human ones.

— Bilbo has taken care of Frodo since his parents drowned in an accident. Frodo is about 8-9 years old here.

— I love the headcanon that hobbits’ ears react to their emotions, so the fact that Frodo doesn’t lower them when Bilbo scolds him is a good sign. Bilbo is a good uncle.

— Thorin and Bilbo have seen each other several times on Wednesdays. Usually, they don’t care about other patrons, but barista keept trying to serve a doppio to the stern scowling dwarf in black leather jacket, and a cappuccino with whipped cream to the little curly hobbit in a plaid sweater. They’ve had to swap their drinks several times.

— Thorin read Mr. Baggins’ books to his nephews in Erebor and quickly figured out who always sits at the table near the window in his favorite cafe. Thorin likes Bilbo’s books but doesn’t know if he’s married because he keeps his personal life private. Seeing Frodo, he immediately assumed he was Bilbo’s son, considering how the little hobbit looks at him.

— Bilbo immediately noticed the stern ( handsome) dwarf sitting with his eyes glued to his phone, but he always felt too awkward to speak with him. How do you even start a conversation with a stranger, especially from another race? So when Frodo, rather bluntly, commented on his appearance, of course, Bilbo was embarrassed. No, he absolutely agrees with Frodo. The exotic braids, unusual for short-haired hobbits, look amazing on the tall dwarf, and the iron clips highlight his blue eyes perfectly, but isn’t that a bit rude to point that out? Wouldn’t a dwarf decide that he is trying to mock his culture?

— Bilbo saw that while he was scolding Frodo, Thorin turned away and for some reason tugged angrily at his braid, so he decided to muster the courage and compliment him himself to ease the awkwardness and not seem rude (not at all because he would gladly say what Frodo did himself and not because Mr. Dwarf has much more attractive features he’d also like to make a comment on, not at all, what are you talking about, no-no-no).

— The dwarf didn’t seem offended at all.

— They started talking and found out that Thorin’s nephews love Bilbo’s books (Bilbo was flattered by this news. He’s still surprised when his books are read by anyone other than hobbits. (Gandalf didn’t tell him that his books are popular among all races. Mostly because for other races they play the role of kids books where main protagonist is a cute mice)).

— And in the end, as we see, they exchanged numbers 🌚🌝

— They will meet again, but without Frodo and not just for coffee.

— The end✨✨✨

I’m still experimenting with a flat-color style and lineart so I’ll be glad to know what do you think about it. Hope the comic was enjoyable!

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 28: Coffee Shop AU

The barista and the bookshop | @abi-cosmos Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55,794 Main Tags/Warnings: Barista Dean Winchester, Librarian/Bookshop owner Castiel, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, Slow burn, Angst with a happy ending, Depression, Costume parties and masquerades, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Sharing a bed, Coffeeshop AU Summary: In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, Dean Winchester has been running Squirrel and Moose Coffeehouse since his Dad died. Next door, anchored by family obligation, librarian Castiel has been tasked with taking over Chuck’s Bookshop. Wanting a distraction after his brother leaves town, Dean offers to help Castiel fix it up. It’s a job, something to get his hands on, it doesn’t matter that the librarian is hot and kinda weird. Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean is helping him, but he’s happy that he is, and their friendship grows until he can’t deny what’s right in front of him. But when their time together is cut short, both face a decision they aren't ready for. In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, what's it gonna be? Peace or freedom?

Are You Writing From The Heart? | @luckshiptoshore Rating: Explicit Word Count: 86,788 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Writer Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, comedian dean, Season/Series 04, Masturbation, Alcohol, Writer Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Fanfiction Writer Dean Winchester, dean/crowley relationship in the past of the fic, cas/meg and cas/hannah relationships in the past of the fic, Internalized Homophobia, Hand Jobs Summary: Castiel Novak's a writer who's waiting for his big break. His last book didn't sell, so now he's doing work for hire, ghostwriting the next in a series of ridiculous horror novels about two hot brothers who hunt monsters together. It’s pretty popular, and the fans are desperate for the next instalment — which is a problem, because the guy who usually writes them just up and vanished a couple of months ago. He left behind a signed contract and the outline for the next two stories, so the publisher’s been looking for someone else who could pick up where Chuck left off. And that's Cas. So he heads to a cafe to get the words out ... and that's where he meets Dean, a smartass wannabe comedian who's working on his stand-up set. Cas is straight, obviously, but there's something about this guy that he's fascinated with. The two of them strike up a friendship ... and soon the world Cas is writing and the world he's living in begin to get mixed up. Sometimes you're writing what you know without even realizing it ...

Finding You In Every Sign | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 99,407 Main Tags/Warnings: Deaf!castiel, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, flower shop au, coffee shop au, strangers to lovers, bottom!dean, bottom!castiel, sweet!dean, hurt!dean, hurt and comfort Summary: Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.

[steddieunderdogfics]

‘boy, I’ll let you be my levi jeans’ by curlockholmes for fics with alternating PoV!

boy, i'll let you be my levi jeans by curlockholmes

Rating: Teens and Up

9,834 words, 3/3 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Coffee Shops, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Trans Eddie Munson, Trans Male Character, Fluff, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, hehe, steve is a fashion influencer, lol, First Dates, Kissing, Flirting, god so much flirting, Barista Eddie Munson, fashion - Freeform, POV Alternating

Summary:

“Your fit says a lot about you as a person. For example, you know, the little wife pleaser, work pant, fancy French shoe fit says, you know, I’m reasonably confident, little bit of a slut–” Eddie snorted a laugh. “– but not so confident that I’m willing to tell the intimidatingly hot, tiny-tattoo barista that I meant I want whole milk, not oat milk. You misheard me, I’m sorry, I…” Eddie’s mouth dropped open. He let the video loop, and was shocked to discover on the second watch that he hadn’t imagined it, Steve had just mentioned him in his video. Eddie is a barista with a parasocial crush on his favourite instagram influencer, which abruptly becomes less parasocial when Steve turns up in the cafe where he works.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Alternating POVs.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[imfinereallyy]

But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always. -STRBB

My first submission for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang event. Banner work done by the forever lovely bee.

Title: But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always

Word Count: 30,579

Archive Warnings: None

Rating:  Explicit

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, minor buckingham

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, The Party, Chief Hopper.

Tags:  

Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Mentions of a Hate Crime, Alternate Universe- Coffe Shops & Cafe's, Alternate Universe-2000's, Alternate Universe-Modern Setting.

Summary (optional):

In the City of Hawkins lies a small cafe on the corner of 4th street that Steve Harrington owns with his best friend.

Far from the broken life he once knew, Steve has become compliant in a comfortable but lonely life. He's happy to work every day in the city he's grown to love, with nothing more than a pillow to greet him at home.

Steve should have known, though, that trouble follows him wherever he goes. And with a new face in town, Steve will have to reevaluate everything he knows, including his view on love.

**** Steve glanced at Eddie, who was now reading his cup in amusement. As he saw Steve’s curious glance, he turned the coffee around, putting Steve’s handwriting into view. Steve almost died on the spot. Right there, in Steve’s loopy handwriting, was the word ‘trouble.’ Eddie laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Guess I’ll make sure to bring trouble back around.” Steve knew at that moment he had stirred up more than sugar in Eddie’s cup.

Beta Reader: @cranberrymoons

Art link and credit: Lovely art done by Bee, aka @sunflowerharrington , both on here and ao3. Art link pending, but the art can be found in my fic below.

Fic link and credit: you can find the fic here written by me, aka @ paperlights on ao3.

I just want to say this has been a lovely adventure. Thank you to everyone involved. <3

[thelikesofus]

ring the bells

9-1-1 on Fox | Buddie | 5k words | Coffee Shop AU | alternative first meeting, fluff, getting together, first kiss, meet-cute

Written for @ronordmann's Reverse Prompt Challenge. Thank you so much Ro for inspiring me to try writing something out of my comfort zone with this fic &lt;3

"Order for Evan!" 

If ever Buck was to die of happiness it would be in this moment. For hours he has been craving, yearning for some sort of hot, sugary drink. It started with a call to a chocolate factory and ended with an empty milk carton in the firehouse refrigerator and an apologetic look on Chimney's face. 

As soon as Buck got off his forty-eight-hour shift he had made a beeline for the nearest cafe. It was not his usual, he would typically stop at the coffee shop closer to his apartment on his way to work, but this place wasn't busy and Buck is desperate for a sugar hit.

It's because he's so desperate that Buck is taking the first mouthful as he's walking out of the store. 

He anticipates the smooth cream and sweet syrup, the spice of cinnamon to balance it all out but the mouthful slides over his tongue like hot, bitter tar and lands in the bottom of his stomach like a rock. 

"God–what the?" He sticks his tongue out and tries to rid his mouth of the taste. That is definitely not the coffee that he ordered. 

For a brief moment, Buck considers that maybe the universe just knew that he actually wanted black coffee but then decides that that's stupid and the universe is wrong this time because he definitely really wanted the drink he thought he ordered. 

So, against every ex-hospitality worker fiber of his being, he turns back to the counter and gets the attention of the barista that served him 'his' drink. 

"Hi there," he starts as brightly as he can for seven o’clock in the morning. "I'm so sorry to do this but I think you've given me the wrong drink. I ordered a caramel latte with cinnamon but this is, well, black."

"Oh!" The barista looks shocked for a second as he checks the order dockets on the counter in front of her. "I'm so sorry, I must have–."

"Given him mine." An unfamiliar voice sounds from next to Buck and when he turns he finds what is potentially the most beautiful man in all of the greater Los Angeles area. 

The barista nods. "Yes, I'm so sorry. I will remake them both right away."

The man eyes Buck's outstretched hand oddly before saying, "No need." He looks at Buck and Buck's sleep-deprived brain almost gets lost in the chocolate of his eyes. "Do you have any diseases I should know about?"

Buck stops short. "I'm–. What?" 

"Diseases." The man says—like that it is a normal thing to ask a stranger. "Are you contagious or anything? I'm in a rush."

"Ah, no. I don't think so."

"Good. I'll just take this one then." And then he reaches for the coffee that is not Buck's coffee but is in Buck's hand and Buck is too baffled to do anything but let him take it. The man disappears from the cafe and Buck is left standing at the counter with his arm still outstretched towards the barista who looks just as confused but shakes herself out of it faster than Buck does.

"I'll remake yours now." He says briskly. "Won't be a minute."

"Ah, yeah. Thanks." Buck mumbles dumbly and turns to see the man's retreating back disappear around the corner. 

The barista hands him a new cup a few moments later along with a five-dollar bill, obviously intending to refund him for the mistake, but he tucks it straight into her tip jar, thank you kindly, and then leaves, the bell ringing behind him as he goes.

Continue on AO3

[drones-of-innocence]

Traveled Half the World to Say, You Are My Muse...

What if in an alternate universe, Princess Peach was an exchange student studying art?

She might enjoy getting a daily coffee before classes, and particularly over the weekends where she planned to walk around the city in search of her muse.

Until, one day, she finds him.

Her muse appears to her in the form of a man at a coffee shop on a rainy day.

The dreary light from the windows catches the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen, and a frustrated hand combs back dark curls as he focuses on his laptop. A full cup of coffee sits, forgotten, by his elbow.

"Excuse me," she approached him before she can think twice, after blocking the doorway and apologizing to the incoming customers who stumbled into her. A childish sense of shame filled her, and she grasped at the straps of her messenger bag. He glanced up at her with those piercing eyes. Her throat went dry. "May—may I sketch you?"

She sees his eyes dart across her face, to the University's emblem on her shirt, to the messenger bag covered in bright patches. His mustache hides his mouth, so she can't tell what he's thinking behind that even stare.

The lack of a response compels nervous laughter. "I'm an art student. It'd just be really quick. I won't bother you; it's good practice, that's all." the explanation bubbled out of her through his silence. The other people sitting in the shop thankfully paid her no mind beyond a glance or two. She struggled not to force a harder smile.

His eyes narrowed for just a moment. She detected a touch of suspicion in his creased brow.

"Sure. Fine," he said, nodding to the seat in front of him before returning his attention to his laptop.

Relieved, Peach practically sank into the chair. "Oh, thank you. Don't mind me at all, it won't take long." she whipped out her sketchbook and pencil, trying to find a blank page to begin. He didn't answer, reviewing whatever was on his screen.

She started by mapping out the general form of his torso and face. He was quite a short man, much shorter than her, but he had an incredibly sturdy build. He wore a modest sweater, but she could see a hint of definition in his shoulders and chest even through the draping red cloth. She wondered if he was very active. Or perhaps his job demanded a certain degree of fitness.

He seemed older than her, but not by much at all. Maybe he was a recent graduate? She focused a little more on his face, trying not to get distracted by his eyes, to sketch out an accurate shape.

His sharp jawline contrasted with his round cheeks. "You have a very impressive mustache," she said, trying to capture the angles just right. She had never seen such a remarkable mustache. It suited the shape of his face so well that she had a hard time imagining his face without it. He didn't respond except to glance at her, expression still unreadable.

She grazed her pencil over the paper, a ghost of a line indicating a suspected dimple in his cheek. She wouldn't know for sure unless he smiled.

"Your nose is so unique," she murmured, careful to capture the precise form. Such a striking round shape. At this, she noticed him let out a sharp sigh and keep a stern focus on his computer. She was nearly done, though, so she had to persist. Had to get this specimen on paper.

Her education had created an efficient artist out of her. Her lines gained more focus, nearly portraying an accurate likeness.

It was those eyes that had captured her attention in the first place. She traced the shape of his thick brows, framing his face with a soft intensity. Nothing in the cafe could draw her away. Not the constant ringing of the doorbell as people came and went, not the steady noise level from the dozens of conversations around them. Not even the rich scent of the coffee that she so adored. Instead, her nose was more keen toward the fresh, clean scent that she assumed was the man's cologne. Her cheeks grew a little warm.

She just managed to trace the shape of his irises, though her linework could not capture the way the color almost glowed. She had never felt such a spark inside as she did looking upon this man. "Your eyes are so beautiful," she said, looking between him and the page. "I don't think I've ever seen such a bright blue before..." she looked up, only to trail off as she realized he was glaring at her.

"That's enough." The man stood from his stool in a flash, shoving his laptop in a bag. Peach jumped. Eyes wide.

He stopped only long enough to give her a hard look, before he turned and marched out of the cafe.

A few customers turned to look as Peach watched him go. Her heart skipped a beat, an alarmed sting of confusion going through her veins. He disappeared quickly down the street.

She didn't understand. Maybe he was busy and didn't want her to bother him? But if that were the case, he simply could have refused to allow her to draw him, right? Swallowing hard, she looked down at her quick little rendering of the man. His features all together created a soft image, with kind and earnest eyes. But suddenly, all she could see was that icy glare.

The rain picked up outside. Peach slowly put away her book and decided not to explore the city that day after all.

In her morose bewilderment, she could hardly take out her sketchbook over the next couple of days. A few of her classmates noticed and tried to engage her in idle gossip, but she didn't have the heart to pay any real attention.

Her work on the sketch had been solid. When she did take out her book, she would take some time to look at the man, even though the memory of that harsh look twisted the perception of her art.

Where the city had been so colorful and vibrant, it all suddenly seemed so dull and gray.

"Your muse?" her roommate caught her one day going over the lines, and pressed her until she'd explained the situation. "Are you sure he's your muse? Don't you think you might just have a crush on him?"

The suggestion haunted her like his face did in her dreams.

The sun warmed her back when she made her way down the street the next weekend. She caught sight of the cafe, and thought a coffee might do her some good before her excursions for the day. Classes had been long that week anyway; she deserved a little treat.

The bell rang on the door as soon as she walked in. Many people looked up at her on impulse before returning to their own drinks.

Except for him.

In the exact same place she had spotted him before. Those bright blue eyes fixed right on her. Like blue jewels in the sunlight.

Peach froze for a moment before abruptly averting her eyes. Should she leave? This was embarrassing. But an indignance rose up in her chest to fight off the shame. She had just as much of a right to be here as he did. She wasn't going to turn tail just because of some guy.

So she raised her chin, gripped the strap of her bag, and hurried to the complete opposite side of the room as him.

It was only after she had sat down and arranged her books and materials around for her homework that she realized she had forgotten to go to the counter to order herself a coffee.

Well. She had just as much of a right to be here, but she did not currently have the nerve to get back up and show herself and do something crazy like risk making eye contact again. With a deep breath, and heat rising to her cheeks, she got to work scanning over the latest assignment.

The low music playing harmonized with the low hum of conversation in the cafe. Peach tried to make sense of the description of the assignment, but she couldn't quite focus on any of the words.

A cup of coffee and a pastry appeared at her elbow.

Peach looked up. The man, the subject of her thoughts and dread the past week, took a careful step back to a respectful distance. Those pretty eyes focused on her with a hesitant guilt. He had his own coffee cup in his hand.

"I didn't know how you liked your coffee," he nodded to the cup on the table, where he had placed cream and sugar beside it. "But I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

Her throat went dry. Swallowing hard, Peach tried to figure out a normal way to sit without fidgeting. "E—excuse me?"

He nodded and took a deep breath. "I was rude to you last week. I believed you were, ah, trying to make fun of me. With all the things you said to me." He glanced at the floor before looking back at her again. "It was a mistake to assume the worst. You seem very kind. I am sorry for how I behaved to you." he tried to smile.

A new light dawned on Peach's understanding. "Oh. Oh, goodness, not at all!" She set her pencils and books aside. "I wasn't teasing you. I'm so sorry if I came across that way; I must have been distracted..."

The man waved her off. "No, please. It was nothing about you. I think you come across as very sweet, Miss. It was my fault."

Very sweet. He thought she was sweet. Peach tried to ignore the furious heat that rose up to her face. She pursed her lips and nodded her appreciation.

He gestured to the coffee and the pastry he had chosen for her. "Please," he said. "I will leave you now. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Miss—"

"Wait," Peach reached out. "Um, I just want you to know that I genuinely think that you are handsome. You have the prettiest eyes. And uh, I appreciate the apology. If you want, you could have the rest of your coffee with me?"

The man blinked at her when she moved to make a space for him to sit. She could have sworn she saw his cheeks flush with a little color. He didn't say anything.

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Peach. I'm an art student at the University. But you already knew that." she laughed nervously. "Um, what's your name?"

It occurred to her that he was just as flustered as she was. An excited, hopeful spark lit up her chest.

He reached out to shake her hand. "I'm Mario," he said, and moved to sit down.

O~o~O

[lotstradamus]

inspired by the manchester anon haha but do you have any tips and suggestions for visiting leeds? 🩷

I've lived here for 2 years now (!!!) but somehow I still don't really know my way around and just go to the same 5 places and use google maps to get anywhere else. it's sad. but here's some shit I love:

Grindhouse - cheap drinks, loads and loads of seats, never too full, music a reasonable volume, and they project 80s movies on the back wall. we once sat in here for 2 hours cos Stand By Me was on. one time we watched the bar staff earnestly tell a group of women on a hen do that the bar was closed and they weren't serving any more drinks, at 7:45pm. 10/10.

Rudy's - only 9 cities* in this fair nation have a Rudy's, so I'm going to keep reccing it for everyone else. perfect Neapolitan pizza. *Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Nottingham, Durham, London, York, Liverpool - if you live in one of these places and haven't been to Rudy's yet, sort it out.

Neon Cactus - go here on a Wednesday and order wings, and you'll get half price margs. lots of great Mexican scran. don't take anyone too picky or over 50, because the price for the great food and vibes is that at least one thing you order will be incorrect. but roll with it. half price margs, man.

Empire Cafe - book in advance if you want to sample the delights of Empire Cafe, cos there's like 6 tables max. everything is seasonal, changes on the daily, and is insanely delicious. if you want to experience heaven, order the steak and chips with salsa verde. there is NOTHING like it.

Stuzzi - another seasonal, small plate sort of place, but Italian. amazing food and a gorgeous restaurant. go with a big group and order one of everything.

Eat Your Greens - ANOTHER seasonal restaurant! this one is farm-to-fork and organic. I can’t speak to the quality as I haven’t actually been, but I am a frequenter of their GREENGROCER, which is MEGA. last time I think I left with natty wine, pâté, some insane tinned fish, a jar of harissa and a bag of sunset potatoes. if you like food, go here.

SARTO - fresh, handmade pasta and picky bits. another great place to go with a group and order all the starters. I had a celeriac pasta there last year that I think about on a fairly regular basis; I picked it cos it was the weirdest sounding thing on the menu and it was fucking mouthwatering. good quality and good people! and it's next door to The Wardrobe, so perfect for a pre-gig tea.

Santiago Bar - like Grindhouse (alternative, casual) but the music is louder and you'll find yourself doing tequila shots at 1am and screaming along to, like, Don Broco. it's the best.

Blue Collar Boys - as a rule I hate 'vintage' clothes shops (overpriced, ugly, everything is XXS), but this place seems to specialise solely in American t-shirts and sweatshirts from the 90s in exactly my size, and everything is £10. this is amazing and a huge bargain if you find something like vintage Wranglers and a Playboy bomber jacket (£20, my wife) but not so amazing or a bargain if you find 3 t-shirts with holes in (£30, me). we've never been without finding shit we love. they only open on random weekends, and they always seem to have more stuff than they could possibly ever sell. it's a freaky vintage alternate universe.

The Corn Exchange - a big gorgeous ol' building full of little businesses. vintage, handmade, tattoos, coffee, jewellery, independent brands, yarn, shoes, a barbers, a bookshop, they've got it all. very easy to spend £100 and 6 hours. every so often they have a market on the bottom floor. perfect tiny representation of Leeds: quirky, independent, delicious, cool.

Silver's Deli - this is a 9-minute train ride away in Bramley (my ends!) but has become THEE buzzy foodie spot recently. go on a sunny saturday morning (cos you will probably have to sit outside) and order the everything sandwich. thank me later. if they have scotch eggs or sausage rolls on, I beseech you, order both. and if you want the sunday special prepare to get there at 11 and fight.

Against the Grain - if you've come to Bramley for Silver's, you may as well trundle 10 minutes up the road and visit the best bar in Leeds. cosy, casual, full of locals, hidden in Swinnow Mills. it's a sit-around-and-chat-to-people sort of place, with bonus charcuterie boards AND a pizza van on weekends. we are here A LOT, because Gray's Salon and Rose and Thorn Tattoo are both in the Mill, and we give them all our money. oh! and dog friendly. sooo many dogs.

Project House/Galleria - if you've gotten the train out to Bramley for Silver's and ATG, jump on the 72 back to town and get off at Project House to eat MORE food. Galleria is a great place to get breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and Project House has EVERYTHING (depending on the day). yoga! gigs! vintage fairs! a bi-annual tattoo convention meets makers market with food vendors called Hand of Glory! check what's on and head on down to support local!

Kirkstall Bridge Inn - another one local(ish) to me, but worth travelling out of town for; a PROPER pub (i.e. no tv, no sports, no shite) that does roasts upstairs and lets dogs in downstairs. outdoor seating right by the canal, and every so often they put something on and the car park turns into a tiny festival. Kirkstallpalooza is a highlight. great place to finish a nice canal walk (who am I?!).

tl;dr sorry that this is obnoxiously long, I love Leeds

[totowlff]

the encounter

➝ a painting, an agent and a crime. sounds good, no?

➝ word count: 3,9k

➝ warnings: descriptions of crimes, reader being clumsy

➝ author’s note: i finally felt safe enough to post this story. it's a more or less alternative universe, since it has some real things (i'd love to know your bets). hope you like it.

It was an ugly, gloomy day in Vienna, and you found yourself sitting in the cafe you tended to frequent these days. As far as anybody knew, and as far as you told anybody, it was a nice place to come and work during the day, so almost every day for the past few weeks, you sat in your usual seat by the window and sipped coffee as you ostensibly worked on something important on your laptop. As far as anybody asked, the cafe was comfortable enough and it was fairly close to your apartment, and you simply weren’t quite as productive when you were working at home. That’s what you told people, along with the fact that you worked in finance.

You weren’t working on anything at the moment, because your mind was elsewhere, and your eyes were fixed on something across the street from the cafe. You were staring at an old antique shop, with a dark green facade and gold lettering across its front window. You were watching the people inside, talking animatedly, trying to imagine what they were speaking about.

— Maria — you heard someone say. The name was familiar, after all, that was the name that was listed in the identity documents that your boss handed to you in a manila envelope a few weeks earlier, along with an investigation report. Hearing the name brought you back to when he was briefing you on the operation, which had been named “Królowa”, a reference to the object of the investigation. You had been assigned to search for information on a triptych painted by the Polish master painter, Jan Matejko, that depicted a procession accompanying the Virgin Mary and the Baby Jesus to a cathedral in Kraków.  

The triptych was considered a lost Polish national treasure, stolen from its most recent owner during the Nazi occupation. Previous investigations into its whereabouts dragged on for years, buried in the files of the Europol, based in The Hague, in the Netherlands. When you started working there, almost a decade earlier, the case was stuck on a cold lead about the piece's last owner, Count Hieronim Tarnowski, a Polish aristocrat.

The last documented whereabouts of the triptych was within Montelupi Palace in Kraków, which was owned by the Tarnowski family. However, the palace and all of its contents were expropriated by Nazi command in 1942, before the interior of the Palace was consumed by fire. From then on, there was nothing further documented about the of the painting. It and some other cultural treasures seized by the Nazis were long considered lost by the Polish government and Europol. That is, until one day, you found something that made you dig deeper into the case.

You were doing some research for another art theft case when you found an open thread about Matejko on an art forum. While you were reading praise for the painter's work, you came across a photo posted by a user called Piter1974 that caught your attention.

It was a photo of the triptych, clearly taken with a modern camera given the quality and colors of the image. They contrasted sharply with the images attached to the investigation that you had as reference, which had been taken from pre-war catalogs. The only existing photos of the work were all in black-and-white, taken with early 20th century cameras. You did some cursory checking on the authenticity of the image, and didn't hesitate to print it out. You placed it on your boss’ desk with an air of confidence. 

— What is that? — your boss, a burly, perpetually grumpy Frenchman named Romeo, asked.

— It’s Matejko’s triptych.

He looked unconvinced as he cocked an eyebrow. 

— Came to show me your Photoshop skills? The colors look nice, but…

— I didn't color this photo.

Romeo blinked.

— Do you mean…

— It's a recent image — you said, proudly — The EXIF data shows that it was taken on October 6, 2022.

— Where did you find this?

— On an internet forum. A user posted this in a discussion thread about Jan Matejko's works.

— You…

— It’s not AI or Photoshop. I checked, Romeo — you replied, smiling — The triptych still exists!

Your discovery led to the case being reopened, with the image being examined pixel-by-pixel for any inconsistencies, and your findings being verified. The EXIF data buried in the picture not only showed the date, but it showed what kind of camera the image had been taken by, which was a high-end professional model popular with archivists and museum curators for taking high-quality images suitable for cataloging. 

You felt frustration wash over you. The trail seemed to have gone cold again, after all, how many art galleries were there in the world? It was like you were looking for a needle in a haystack.

But again, fortune smiled on you. While analyzing an old catalog of Jan Matejko's works written by a Polish author, you came across new information about the triptych's whereabouts. According to the catalog’s author, after being confiscated by the Nazis, the triptych briefly reappeared in the 1960s, in the inventory of a well-known antiques shop in central Vienna. Your relief was short-lived when you saw the name of the shop’s owner. 

“Of course Bednarczyk is involved in this”, you thought to yourself, letting out a long sigh.

Czesław Bednarczyk was an old acquaintance of the Polish justice system. He had been a notorious smuggler, taking vast amounts of Poland’s cultural treasures and gold abroad, most of it to be sold in his antique shop in central Vienna, on the Dorotheergasse. 

Despite the mountain of evidence against him, the antiquarian never faced justice for his crimes, nor did his reputation within the art world suffer. When he died in the late 90s, the funeral was attended by great figures from the industry, all paying their respects to the patriarch's family, who worked to preserve his legacy to this very day. 

Bednarczyk's antique shop was taken over by his eldest daughter, Elisabeth. She was known for being one of the leading experts on Viennese porcelain, which kept her from being a major suspect. However, you thought, that didn't mean the place couldn't be involved in some way, as other Matejko pieces had been sold by the Bednarczyks over the years. And so, you went to Vienna with a false identity and a single objective: find the triptych.

After arriving in the city and settling into the apartment that would be your base, you tried to investigate the surroundings of Dorotheergasse, the narrow lane where the antique shop was located. In short order, you found the perfect place to monitor movements in and out of the shop without raising any suspicion — a cafe next to the Jewish Museum across the street. — Maria — the voice repeated, making you wake up from your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder, finding the friendly smile of Kristina, the cafe's barista — Is everything okay?

— Yes, everything’s fine — you replied quickly, fumbling to hide the fact that you had forgotten that was the name you’d given to the waitress — Why?

— Oh, you… Called me over to place your order, but when I asked you what you wanted, you didn't say anything...

You felt your own cheeks heat up.

— Sorry, Kristina, I was distracted…

— By the antique shop?

You were apparently being too obvious. You wished the ground would swallow you whole.

— Well, no… Not exactly…

— Oh, I’m not surprised.  — Kristina laughed — When you said you had just moved to an apartment nearby, I sort of figured you had an eye for art and antiques.

— But, how?

The barista chuckled.

— I mean, you’ve seen the kind of people that come in here. It’s only old people or people that are crazy about art, and you’re obviously not old.

You smiled, trying to hide your discomfort at feeling so transparent.

— I do like art — you lied — My parents had a lot of pieces at home, like sculptures, porcelain...

— Oh, that shop has a ton of those things.

You raised your eyebrow. 

— Have you ever been inside?

— Yes. I got curious about it and went after work one day.

— Did you talk to anyone there?

Kristina was clearly taken aback by your interest.

— Oh, yes, I talked to a man, he…

— Alexander? — you asked, taking a few seconds to realize that, in your eagerness to find out more about the Bednarczyks, you were close to showing your hand.

— No, his name was something else — she replied, with suspicion on her face — Who’s Alexander? 

In truth, you knew that Elisabeth had a son named Alexander. According to the case’s dossier, he was a specialist in contemporary art and responsible for numerous sales of works to foreign galleries and museums. If the triptych had left the antique shop heading abroad, it likely would have passed through Alexander's hands.

— Well, like I said, my parents like art and I remembered they bought a few pieces from a shop in Vienna run by a man named Alexander — you said, trying to cover your tracks  — I thought it could be him, but I think it's unlikely, come to think of it. After all, how many art and antique shops are in a city this size, right?

After staring at you for a few seconds, Kristina smiled.

— Unlikely, maybe, but not impossible. I imagine the art world isn’t a very big one, after all. 

You went back to focusing on the antique shop. You had noticed some movement near the door and you were trying to pay attention to whoever was leaving, when Kristina cleared her throat.

— Yeah? — you muttered.

— Do you still want something?

Looking at the table, you noticed that your espresso cup was empty, as was the plate full of crumbs from the chocolate cake you had devoured after lunch.

— I think another espresso — you replied. With a nod Kristina walked away from your table, while you looked again at the door of the antique shop as two blonde women came out of the shop’s door. Both of them were talking animatedly and had boxes in their hands.

Just then, you’d decided you’d spent enough time over the past few weeks watching and waiting — you had to see what was inside. 

The next day, the plan was already drawn up in your head. You would go into another antique shop in a different part of Vienna and buy something made of porcelain, something that seemed to be antique. And then, you would go into the Bednarczyk’s shop to try and have it appraised. It belonged to your mother, you would tell them, and you wanted to find out what they could tell you about it and see if it could be restored. Anything to buy more time.

You’d let the staff at the shop talk to you, you knew what questions to ask to not seem like you knew nothing about the pieces, but what to avoid asking to not show that you knew too much. While you were talking to them, whoever they were, you would try to work in a way to ask about any Matejko pieces they knew of.

Your plan was hastily arranged, but it seemed like it should be perfect.

You found another antique shop in Ottakring, across the city, and bought the first porcelain piece you spotted that you knew was old enough to seem like a treasured family heirloom. You thought it would be a good idea to stop by the cafe first and have an espresso to settle your nerves before heading into Bednarczyk’s.

You walked down the street to the direction of the antique store with the box containing the little sculpture in your hands, confident this would be a big step forward in the investigation of the tryptich’s whereabouts. 

As you were glancing toward the shop’s entryway, you let your attention slip for a moment, crashing into the back of the man who was walking ahead of you. The box in your hand slipped and fell toward the ground, the muffled tinkling of shattering porcelain coming from inside the box. You immediately sank to the ground and lifted the flaps on the top of the box.

— No, no, no, fuck — you said, seeing the ballerina you bought reduced to a pile of shards.

— Shit — the man said from above you. When you looked up, you realized that you had stumbled into a man with dark hair and brown eyes, who were fixed on what was once a small porcelain statue — I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming in behind me…

— No, it's okay — you murmured, trying to hide your displeasure at having broken the piece. You had chosen the porcelain ballerina precisely because you knew that it was old enough to be of interest to Elisabeth. However, you couldn’t exactly get her to appraise a pile of dust — Isn’t a big deal...

— From your reaction, it seemed like something important — the man said, as you closed the box quickly and stood up — I’m so sorry. I hope it wasn’t a family heirloom.

You looked up at him, pressing your lips together as you realized how tall he was. “Focus… Maria”, you thought to yourself, feeling your face heat up. You couldn't let your cover identity slip.

— Yeah, it was. I had brought it to see if there was somewhere that could appraise it, maybe restore it, but… I don’t think there’s much to be done about it now.

Looking at the box, the man seemed to think for a few seconds, before looking up at you again.

— Well, if you want, I can find something else to give you instead. I’ll pay for it.

— I don’t… 

— That won't replace the sentimental value, no, but it's the least I can do, considering your little ballerina is broken because of me.

You hesitated for a few seconds. You didn’t want to involve another person in your investigation, especially an innocent bystander that made you feel a strange heat in your chest and a strange flush in your cheeks. However, before you realized it, you were following him down the street, the box with the porcelain shards in your hands, into the front door of the Bednarczyks' antique shop.

He opened the door and motioned politely for you to walk in first, which you did, unable to hide the shy smile on your face. The man closed the door behind him as you approached one of the shelves. It was stocked with a huge assortment of miscellaneous knicknacks - silver candelabras, ceramic vases, sets of different glasses and jars, all polished and carefully arranged. Your eyes landed on a velvet box on one of the middle shelves, and you couldn’t resist the compulsion to step forward and carefully tilt open the lid, trying to see what was inside.

— It's a set of silver flatware — a female voice said behind you. You turned around with a start to see a short, blonde woman with kind brown eyes staring at you. She smiled — Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Mr. Wolff asked me to come assist you.

— Mr. Wolff? — you asked, confused.

— The gentleman who came in with you.

You were still confused, wondering how she knew the other customer’s name. 

— By any chance — you started, stopping when you felt someone touch you shoulder.

— Ah, you found Petra, excellent — the man, apparently Mr. Wolff, said — Petra, could you show us the porcelain?

The woman nodded and directed you to another set of shelves, chatting about , the woman guided you between the shelves, chatting about the store's new arrivals. However, your mind was occupied with trying to remember if you’d ever seen the name Wolff anywhere in the case files. The man seemed to be too familiar with the staff to be just another customer. You remembered reading about Elisabeth, her son, Alexander, and Alexander’s wife, Amy. However, you didn't remember any man with the surname Wolff.

— Here is our selection of porcelain. I'll leave you to choose what you would like — Petra said, with a smile.

— Thank you very much, Petra. As soon as we choose, we will call you.

With a nod, Petra walked away, leaving the two of you alone in front of the shelves filled with figurines, cups, teapots and porcelain vases. After a few seconds of silence, you finally looked at the man next to you.

— Mr. Wolff, is it? — you asked, the tone of your voice causing a smile to appear on his lips.

— Well, yes. Torger Wolff. But you can call me Toto.

Something about what he said made you smile.

— Toto, like the dog in The Wizard of Oz?

— I would say like Toto Rina, the Italian mafioso, but most people think of the dog first — Toto said, without taking his eyes off you — And you, what's your name?

You hesitated for a few seconds.

— Maria.

— Just Maria?

— Maria Bauer.

Toto chuckled.

— Ah, a fairly common name, no? — he asked. “It had to be something from the idiots in the operations department”, you thought to yourself, giving a wry smile.

— My parents weren’t the most creative…

— In my case, they were too creative — he said, looking at the shelf again — I suppose you’re not not from Vienna?

His question made you swallow hard.

— No, I'm not. I moved here not long ago. How did you know?

— Your accent — Toto replied — I'd say you're from the south, maybe. Graz?

— Klagenfurt — you said. That’s what was in your identity document. You hoped he wasn't familiar with the accent there, since you were sure that the Dutch and English you were used to speaking on a daily basis with your co-workers was present in the way you slurred some syllables.

— But you've lived abroad, haven't you?

— Why do you ask?

— Your accent doesn’t sound like a Southern accent. I have an acquaintance from near there, but his accent is a bit different. 

— My mother is Dutch — you lied, almost in an attempt to stop that interrogation — So, I grew up listening to her accent and ended up picking it up.

— Ah, yes, I understand — he said, giving a gentle smile.

Turning your attention to the shelf, you tried to focus on the china in front of you, trying to decide which piece would be the most similar to the one he had broken. Not that it mattered much, but one did catch your eye. It was a figure of two people - a man and a woman, sitting next to a column, with the woman holding a rose and the man holding a basket of flowers on his lap. It was romantic, and oddly endearing.— Did you like this one? — Toto asked.

— Yeah — you replied, your fingers brushing the top of the porcelain column, where there was a small hole to hold a few flowers  — It's very beautiful.

— I agree. 

— With such a renowned expert curating the collection, it's not surprising — you said, taking the porcelain figure in your hands.

— Oh, do you know of Elisabeth? — he asked. You glanced over to Toto to find that he had a curious expression, like something you said made an impression.

Maybe you’d already said too much.

You’d betrayed the fact that you were not from Vienna and had recently moved to the city, leaving you no acceptable excuse to explain how you knew who owned the shop you were in. It wasn’t as if she was well-known outside of very specific Viennese society and academic circles — No, I don't know her — you said, giggling nervously.

— So how do you know she curates the porcelains here?

— Well, like I said, I recently moved and I'm still cleaning up my apartment, so I'm working from the cafe across the street — you lied, trying to sound as calm as possible  — And, one day, I noticed the antique shop across the street and looked up some information about it online. My parents collect art - mostly these porcelain figures, so I thought I’d bring in one of their older pieces to have it appraised and restored, since she seemed like the best person to do it.

— Of course, the internet — he said, laughing — What's not on the internet nowadays, right?

— Right? You can find anything — you smiled, feeling your heart pounding. He seemed to buy it, but you couldn’t guarantee that you’d be so lucky next time. 

After asking if you liked the piece you were holding and calling Petra to confirm your choice, Toto asked you to stay there, before heading towards the counter at the back of the shop together with Petra.

Watching him talk to Petra, you started feeling guilty. You had only just met Toto and you already felt terrible about lying to him, which made you feel even worse, as feeling such strong emotions about telling lies was an occupational liability for you. But still, he had nothing to do with the investigation beyond knowing who Elisabeth was, and ostensibly frequenting her family’s antique shop. He certainly wasn’t a person of interest, so you could only conclude that he was one of her wealthy patrons. “He must be rich”, you thought, watching him scribble something on a piece of paper and hand it to Petra.

Perhaps, in other circumstances, you could get to know each other better. It was crazy, you thought, to be imagining a future with a man you knew nothing about and had just met mere moments ago, but you couldn’t help it as you looked at the way he smiled at you. It was a sweet, warm smile, and you’d never met anyone else you felt a connection with so immediately. It was the same smile he gave you once more as he handed you an elegant box that Petra had given him. “What a handsome son of a bitch”, you thought, giving him a small smile.

— Here — Toto said, handing you the box — I know it's not a one-for-one replacement, but it's my way of apologizing for the accident earlier.

— It’s no problem, really. You could very well have ignored what happened and kept walking, so…

— No, I don’t think that would have been — he murmured, eyes fixed on yours. That intensity of his gaze on you made your own cheeks feel hot.

— What do you mean by that? — you asked, giggling nervously.

— It would be impossible to ignore you — Toto said, seeming to realize the effect of his own words on you — I could never just walk past you.

The room filled with silence that stretched out long enough for you to think of a million scenarios in which you would end up with your lips pressed against his.

— Well, I'm going to take this home — you finally said, taking a brief look at the box — Thank you for your kindness, Toto.

— It was the least I could do, Maria — he replied with a smile, putting a peculiar emphasis on your name.

Giving one last wave, you turned around and left the antique shop feeling like you were floating. However, nothing compared to the feeling that came over you when you opened the box and found a note on the bubble wrap that surrounded the delicate piece of porcelain.

— I'd love to see how it looks on your shelf — you read quietly, realizing that Toto had written his phone number below his message while Petra was wrapping the figurine.

You dug into your purse and pulled out your phone, but started feeling guilty again. You were in Vienna for work, not to flirt with strangers. You were dealing with dangerous people and getting involved with more people meant additional risk, not only for them, but for you and your career.

“Well… one photo of my bookshelf probably won’t hurt anyone”, you thought, before saving the number on your cell phone.

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku ft. No Quirks AU

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

All are SFW / no smut … still check tags.

Art not mine … from “Puppies Puppies” story.

Note: If you read any of these works and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Puppies Puppies by Esselle

Summary: Katsuki thinks he has everything he needs in life: a successful pet shop, an occasionally reliable assistant, and the unconditional love of the twenty puppies he’s raising for adoption. But when the tattoo parlor next door hires Midoriya Izuku, a hot sailor with an affinity for dogs, it makes Katsuki wonder if he might need something more.

Like… a piece of that ass. Maybe. He’s figuring it the hell out as he goes.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Can I Have Your Number? by Astranger015

Summary: Bakugou tries to get Izuku's phone number. (Cafe AU)

Complete | 7 Chapters

Working On The Weekend by CallMeCharles (dinkelbeerrgg)

Summary: The wonder duo has been working together for years to expose the worst the world has to offer. One villain has always remained out of reach by keeping his hands out of the pie, but now that an entire civilization is at stake, the wonder duo and their team have the opportunity to save lives and win a decades-long battle. As long as they don't get distracted.

— — —

Or the team has to work an undercover mission and Katuski is too emotionally constipated to understand why he's so pissed about Izuku getting tons of attention from a handsome extra. But with a bunch of spy cliches and action movie drama.

Complete | 24 Chapters

Cuddle Buddy by category6

Summary: Katsuki Bakugo wasn't expecting his friends to send him a 'Cuddle Buddy' for his birthday, but quite despite himself, he suprisingly liked the service when the man who knocked on his door was cute, freckly, and good at his job.

After he ended up calling this 'Deku' guy back for more cuddling services, he found himself hoping that at least some of Izuku's kind words and gestures were real.

He also hoped that the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about the cute freckled man wouldn't become a problem.

[Professional Cuddler au]

{One Shot}

I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts by PassingShadow

Summary: Izuku is a professional cuddler and Katsuki is his new client that’s just a little rough around the edges, and needs a natural healing touch.

[Professional Cuddler au]

{One Shot}

The New Assistant by dracofides

Summary: “My name is Izuku. I am a prototype created by CyberLife Japan. My main purpose is modeling, but I can also do any sort of assistance.”

“What the fuck?”

...

His mother brought home a new android, only the new android was unlike any android Katsuki has ever seen.

[Fashion au]

{One Shot}

Case Closed by spicymacaron

Summary: The squad finally meets Bakugou’s mysterious long-distance boyfriend, Deku, but he’s not what they expect.

{One Shot}

Empty by Mikacrispy

Summary: When bored billionaire Bakugou sees his old childhood friend down on his luck, living on a park bench, he can't help dragging him home and taking care of him.

He can't help falling in love either.

[unintentional sugar daddy au]

{One Shot}

The Dive Bar by huliganships

Summary: Katsuki gets dragged out by his friends. He plans to indulge them for an hour before ditching them and going home again. His plans are being overthrown though when his eyes meet a pair of eyes that threaten to pull him under and into the green depths of the sea.

{One Shot}

Are you into science? Because I LAB you! by huliganships

Summary: “Are you checking out the florist?” Kirishima whispered to him.“And what if I am?” Katsuki shot back, his eyes not leaving the figure of the green-haired man in front of them.

“Please don’t use one of your stupid pick-up lines on him. He knows what he’s doing and maybe I want to come back here sometime.”

“I will absolutely use one of those,” Katsuki answered. “I’m not willing to invest time in someone too stupid to get chemistry jokes.”

{One Shot}

Trophy by Mikacrispy

Summary: After winning the State Championship with his football team, Izuku promises himself he'll tackle an even greater challenge - asking his crush out on a date.

It's way easier to throw balls on the field than it is to face Katsuki, the feisty top student in their school.

[High School AU]

{One Shot}

Shoto, The Siamese Cat, Gives His Statement by GinaDeSpell

Summary: We observe the vicissitudes of Shoto, the Siamese cat, as he observes the growing love life of his owner Izuku Midoriya with Katsuki Bakugo, and how the feline makes them come to their senses when they are being stupid.

{One Shot}

Love (Won't) Tear Us Apart by Golden_Writes

Summary: After stumbling upon "Nitro Records", a vintage record store, Izuku can't help himself from going back almost every day to see the explosive blond behind the counter and maybe buy a vinyl or two. The catch? Izuku doesn't actually own a record player! [Music Store AU]

{One Shot}

Watching You by Mikacrispy

Summary: Katsuki uses his position as Head of Security to watch Deku, the CEO's secretary, through the CCTV every day. He knows he's bordering on stalking, but it's worth putting up with the teasing of his friends just to see Deku's crazy antics when he thinks he's all alone.

— — —

Or: Good-hearted stalker Bakugou

{One Shot}

Cheese Nachos and Pretty Boys by Chumpy

Summary: This whole day was very quickly crashing and burning, and Izuku realized he'd probably never recover. For one, the Triple Cheese Extreme Nachos he had for lunch were definitely negatively affecting his digestive system as they spoke, and two, he'd gotten the attractive Claire's employee's attention in the worst possible way.

Never again would Izuku Midoriya show his face in this Claire's, nor in the food court, nor to the outside world, probably; never again would Izuku Midoriya let himself feel confident.

— — —

(Or, Izuku goes to Claire's.) [Mall AU]

{One Shot}

Momentum by meteormind

Summary: "You be the girl," Katsuki tells him.

"But... we're both boys," the dummy says like Katsuki doesn't have eyes.

"So? There has to be a girl. And I'm taller." Katsuki skates his hand over the shrubby mess of Twig's hair to his own cheek. "See?"

"Why do you get to be the boy just because you're tall? There are tall girls too." Twig looks around the room at all the poofy-skirted girls. "I don't want to be the girl."

"Someone has to be the girl, and you already look like one so it might as well be you, ya girly twig-boy."

Twig gasps. "I am not a girly twig-boy!"

— — —

Martial Artist Katsuki x Violinist Izuku

RIP Kacchan's Toes

Complete | 3 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

Sugar Stardust by milkcandie

Summary: Between baking pretty macarons and sculpting wedding cakes, Katsuki slowly falls in love with a certain green-haired coworker who has effervescent stars in his eyes. Maybe working as a pastry chef in Nowhere, Japan isn't so bad after all, especially when he’s in such close proximity to a boy who manages to beautify every little thing in his presence.

☆ A pâtisserie AU where Katsuki and Izuku are really the perfect ingredient for each other.

Complete | 14 Chapters

[zzoomacroom]

Fic: Fiddler's Green Cannabis and Vape

For @4typercent

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Fiddler's Green | Gilbert, Mervyn Pumpkinhead

Additional Tags: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafes, Alternate Universe - Cannabis Shops & Dispensaries, Marijuana, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Medicinal Drug Use, Mervyn-Typical Homophobia, Meet-Awkward, Dream is kinda bad at social interaction, Hob is just really stoned, this is extremely stupid just fyi

Summary:

"So what are we looking for today?"

"Um...pot?"

"Well, you've come to the right place. Flower, extracts, edibles, disposable vapes...what are we thinkin', chief?"

"What's the kind you roll into a joint and smoke?" Hob asked, feeling more ignorant with every passing second.

Matthew snickered dopily at that and said, "So that's gonna be the flower. We only sell our house brand, Dreaming Premium, but I'm telling you, man, it's the dankest shit imaginable. Most of the strains we carry were cultivated by the owner and master grower—that's who I was talking to just now, dude's an absolute wizard at creating new strains even though he like, barely ever smokes. Indicas, sativas, hybrids—you name it, we got it." Matthew must have noticed Hob's eyes glazing over again because he added, "You have smoked before, right bro?"

"Oh—uh, yeah, totally. Big time stoner. Love the chronic," Hob stuttered, cringing inwardly and hoping he used those terms correctly.

Continue reading on ao3:

Edit: chapter 2 is now up

[bisexualbard-writes]

Hey, I will send you my fave and least fave trope for KimChay. My fave trope is: arranged marriage (it could be royal au, or some alternate universe au). My least favourite trope is: Coffee shop au. I feel like the theme is always the same, the one is working in coffee shop and the other visits it and starts to fall in love with barista (or vice versa). I find the trope kind of boring and very predicable with little to no plot or suspense.

Okay, I'm gonna do coffee shop AU for this one but send me another ask with the arranged marriage AU and I'll think on it some more. The thing is, both Kim and Chay have to be in the cafe. Kim's father assigned this place to him, apparently Something is Suspicious and they're skimping on their money laundering reports. Korn thinks there's a mole in the . He's basically just babysitting.

Chay has to be there because it's too quiet at the library and it's too quiet at home, and it's the only cafe that lets him stay as long as he wants even when he's only ordered the very cheapest coffee.

And there's only ONE good table, the one tucked away in the corner with the best light for studying, where most of the sounds of the other patrons of the coffee shop are drowned out and the grinder isn't too loud but the music can be heard clearly. Chay loves the music they play there. (it's because Kim gets to pick the music)

At first Kim and Chay quietly battle for the table. Chay pouts whenever Kim claims it first, and on days when Chay gets there first Kim just doubles down and decides to get there early the next day. On days when neither of them get the table Kim looks around the shop until he sees Kim and makes eye contact, then gives him a big thumbs down and an eye roll because that's THEIR table to quietly fight over.

Then one day during midterms the coffee shop is PACKED. There are no free tables at all, and Kim's claimed the good table for himself. But it's a table for two, and Chay is desperate. So he waves a metaphorical white flag and asks Kim if he can sit with him. Kim surprises them both by saying yes. Wik probably isn't a thing in this AU, but Kim has slipped a few of his own tracks onto the coffee shop playlist and he likes the way Chay bops to them when they play. Not that he's been watching Chay or the way he bites the end of his pens or the way he's always picking up his coffee cup and frowning sadly when he realizes it's empty but never gets up to get a refill.

After that, Kim and Chay always sit together at the good table - their table.

BUT what's a coffee shop au without baristas? There are all sorts of possibilities for this. Kinn is also on the job - acting manager of the coffee shop? He and Porsche butt heads all the time, unfortunately he's the only one who for sure isn't like, an italian mafia spy, so Kinn can't fire him. Instead they torture each other. They're also always trying to sabotage kimchay's obvious falling for each other because like, sure he's cute but his brother is unbearable. So Porsche puts chili in Kim's drink so that he'll spittake and Chay won't think he's cute anymore (this fails) and Kinn blasts the music's volume whenever he thinks Chay's flirting. Then, you'll recall, Something is Suspicious with the business. While everyone is busy with tomfoolery and falling in love, they're ALSO ALL trying to stop EVERYONE ELSE from noticing the trouble. Kim keeps sneaking off to the bathroom to corner suspicious patrons. Chay doubles down on looking extra cute when he sees someone giving Porsche trouble so that Kim won't think poorly of their family. Kinn keeps trying to catch Porsche being sus without letting Porsche know that's what he's trying to do. Porsche keeps on accidentally fighting these totally unreasonable suppliers and then leaving their knocked out bodies in the back alley because he really doesn't want to lose this job.

It's a big comedy of errors. Chay ends up accidentally being the one to actually catch the mole, through pure coincidence.

(send me a trope, maybe one you hate, and I'll attempt to kimchay it)