#shelves upon shelves of beans in the store

[yuanw3i]

after a sleepover at ramshackle ace made breakfast once and then never again

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 7

Contents: relationship, establishing feelings, slow burn, office kisses.

Warning: Things get a little ... spicier from here on out. Content warnings will be given for the relevant chapters.

You lingered with him in the little alcove, listening to the rhythm of his breath in the grooves of your ear. You lingered on the stairs leading back to the car. You traced the elusive outline of his fingers with yours, again and again, committing them to memory. There were no words passed between the two of you, from the moment he'd kissed you outside the restaurant, until you parted ways outside your apartment. There was no need for words. Neither of you wanted to break the spell that this evening had cast upon you.

When he finally said goodbye, the hoarseness of his voice, the softness of it, was enough to tell you how much he wanted, how much leaving you there was costing him. It was the same in your mind, of course. Discipline, control over desires, the measuring of love in increments until some vital point was reached, what was the need for it all?

You'd happily open your front door to him, lead him into a place you'd make sure he'd never want to leave. And yet, there was still something holding you back. It must be the same for him. Something that had been slinging you both in natural trajectories, the orbit of celestial bodies that slowly swayed each other's tides until the season came for you to be closer than ever.

You could be patient for this. You could watch this sweet, gentle unfolding between the two of you, as patiently as a predator in ambush. If nature was to take its course, then it was well worth the wait.

The way Kento walked you to your door without touching you, but then snatched up your fingers and pressed them to his lips, told you how much he valued your time together. It wasn't so much that he had kissed your fingers, it was more like he was committing the feel of them to his lips, as if he'd drink from the sensation on every night he'd spend without you.

Until the night it wouldn't be necessary any longer.

He began to make an effort, of course, to bind your lives more fully together. The things that were important to him were things he wanted to share with you. Sometimes, those moments of sharing were performed unconsciously on his part, in ways that made you want to take his face between your palms and plant soft kisses on his eyelids.

On one fateful afternoon, he'd purchased some specialty mochi from a store near where he'd been posted for duty. He knew how much you loved them freshly made, with red bean filling.

You hadn't seen him for almost a week at this point, messaging him regularly to check up on his safety and whether he was eating and sleeping on time. He always replied promptly, unless deeply occupied with something.

When he strode into your office that evening, the small parcel in one hand, tie slightly askew, you knew he'd rushed to catch the last train to be here. Jujutsu Tech vehicles were not always on call at this time. You stood and beamed at him, watching his shoulders relax and the tension that hung about his face disappear.

At work, you both were very careful to keep gestures of affection to a minimum. Not that you were concealing what was growing between you. It was simply a matter of not wanting anyone else to intrude on the moments between you that were truly special. Nanami couldn't help himself, though.

Drawn across the room, as if in each other's magnetic pull, you both met halfway, his hands coming up to enclose your own. You gently extricated one of them and brushed it lightly over his forehead, smoothing out some of the lines there.

"What's this in the bag?"

"Mochi. The kind you like."

"You should have gone home and rested. The mochi could wait."

The soft smile you were giving him took the edge off your strict words.

"Hmm. But it was fresh. I saw them stocking the shelves."

"Come, sit. I'll make you some tea."

He sank onto the couch set to one side of the room with a sigh, loosening his tie. Unable to help yourself, now that he was in your presence, you traced the line of his jaw delicately on your way to the kettle. Kento leaned slightly into your touch. He didn't have to tell you how much he'd missed you.

The kettle was soon boiling merrily while you prepared the cups and saucers. You kept many different tea blends in your office, and you knew, by now, which ones he preferred. You could feel his gaze tracing down, over your shoulders and back, down to your hips and then to your fingers on the smooth porcelain.

He insisted that the mochi was for you, and that he wouldn't eat any of it. Kento could be as stubborn as a bull when it came to things like this. Sighing slightly, you took a sip of your own tea, then a bite of the mochi, Kento's eyes now following the shape of your lips over the rim of his cup.

You almost choked.

Now this was unexpected. Glancing down, you desperately fought the urge to burst into laughter when you realized what had happened. He'd purchased mochi filled with natto instead of red beans. In his rush, he must have got them mixed. Natto wasn't a common filling either, but this was a specialty shop, so it must have been made on the day.

"Something wrong?"

"Not at all. They're so soft and fresh. It's been a while since I've had any like this."

"Oh?"

He looked so pleased with himself that you silently patted yourself on the back for managing to conceal that so well. At that moment, the door to the office burst open and Gojo strolled in. Tall and charismatic as ever, he glanced around, gaze almost traveling right over you as he focused on the target of his attention.

"Nanami! Why are you holed up in here? I've been looking for you all over. Where's the report?"

The tension lines on Kento's forehead were back in full force.

"I'm attempting to sit down and take a break after a long day, as you can clearly see."

Gojo grinned and knocked Kento's knee with his shin.

"Okay, Mister Grump. But where's the report?"

"Filed with Ijichi, obviously. I always send my paperwork in first thing. You know this."

Gojo clicked his tongue and Kento's eye twitched alarmingly.

"Why you gotta be so proper. Now I have to go find Ijichi."

"You could have - "

"Ooohh, what's this?"

To your immense alarm, Gojo had spotted the mochi. Everyone and their grandmother knew about the special grade sorcerer's penchant for all things sweet. You attempted to push them aside slowly.

"Uh, you don't want these. They're - "

"Huh?" He pointed at you, scandalized. "Are you trying to keep them all to yourself?"

"What? No, I - "

Kento stood and folded his arms in a manner that showed just how much he meant business.

"Gojo, leave those mochi alone."

"Oh hell no. You go all the way to the mochi store I've been dying to go to all week, and you don't even get me any? What kind of friend are you?"

Before either of you could stop him (for very different reasons) he grabbed one of the mochi and popped it into his mouth. He chewed happily before stopping suddenly, face crumpling, gagging slightly.

"What the hell? Why is there natto in these?"

Kento turned, very slowly, in your direction. Studiously avoiding his gaze, you cleared your throat.

"That was at my request. I love natto mochi. That's why I tried to stop you from eating them."

Grabbing your half-full cup of tea, Gojo took a large gulp in an attempt to wash away the flavour.

"Natto mochi? Why? Just .... why? Oh, never mind. Thanks for trying to stop me anyway. Oi, Nanamin, you owe me some strawberry mochi for next time, okay?"

So saying, the whirlwind that was Gojo exited your office, footsteps shuffling away on the floor outside. You examined your fingernails. Kento's gaze was burning into the back of your head.

"Ahem. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"No?"

"Why didn't you tell me these were natto?"

"I like natto."

"Liar."

You huffed out a small laugh, finally meeting his disapproving expression with a mischievous one.

"Fine. I'm not a fan of natto. But you were so happy to give them to me, Kento. I just wanted to see you smiling and looking relaxed for a change, so I - "

Before you could utter another word, he had plucked the glasses away from his face with a decisive motion and taken two strides into your space, his arms coming up and surrounding you in an embrace that pulled you like a vice into his chest.

"Kento?"

Your voice was a little shaky, not in an unpleasant way, as he leaned forward without hesitation, tilting his head. You swiftly dodged away, your breathless laugh mingling with his own unsteady breathing.

"The door isn't closed all the way. And I've just... wait! I've just eaten natto, you - "

His mouth was positively hungry on yours this time. Regardless of whatever flavour was lingering there, he was pushing you back until the desk collided with your thighs, his hand coming up to grasp and tilt your face until your mouth fell open helplessly against his. He was licking into you like a man starved, pausing in between to whisper to you about how he'd missed you, how he wanted you, how you looked so beautiful today and now his lips were on your throat, then on your mouth again, teeth knocking against yours, clumsy in his passion. There was something so fierce, uncontrolled, so primal about the way he was touching you, as if every restraint he had placed on himself (and by extension, yourself) had come crashing down among the rapidly narrowing spaces between your bodies.

Your hands were on his shoulders, and it probably looked as if you were trying to push him off you, but you were actually bracing yourself as something warm and molten started to run straight down the middle of your body, making you hyper-sensitive to his touch, to the feel of him on you. He was so large, so warm, so solid, the ripple of sinew against underlying muscle so evident under your fingers. You could run your hands over him like this forever, mapping out every new delight he laid bare for you.

Something like sanity was beginning to make itself known to the both of you now, the awareness of where you were, of the rules of propriety, and Kento removed his mouth from yours with a twist of his neck, looking away from you, breathing hard. He was now murmuring a soft apology, but you weren't having it. You covered his mouth with your hand and tugged slightly, making him look at you again, forcing him to take in your appearance, as he'd left you. He was none the better.

You removed your hand and took him in, the flushed cheeks, the blonde strands coming down around his ears, the glazed molten honey of his eyes and moistened lips. This man was so beautiful, he'd be the death of you. You told him so, and he gave a small, slightly disbelieving chuckle. But you let him read the truth in your regard of him all the same, the way you were drinking in the sight of him.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say Kento was overcome with a little shyness then. He lowered his face and his nose found purchase on your collarbone. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly, but gently. After a few moments of him basking in your embrace, he pulled away and cleared his throat, smoothing out his shirt. You took in a steadying breath and did the same to your own rumpled appearance.

He spent the remainder of your shift seated at a safe distance behind the other desk in the room, using the desktop PC to order up a replacement for his leather blade holster that was showing signs of wear. At times, your eyes would catch his, regarding you with a certain kind of tenderness in the dim glow of the office lamps. That expression was new. You delighted in it, as you did in every new aspect of himself he revealed to you.

When your shift ended, he insisted on walking you to the train.

Of course, he apologizes for his behaviour later. Even though the thought has long since ceased to bother you, he has been going over it in his mind, as you expected. He was the one who initiated the kiss in your office, after all. When you arrive home, warm up the food you'd pre-prepared in the fridge and finish with your bath, your phone is lit up with a small, insistent reminder.

Unable to help the small laugh that escapes you, you read his message.

"I don't know what came over me earlier. Please pardon my behaviour. I'm not offering excuses, but I did miss your presence."

The infinite sweetness that wells up inside you threatens to have you type something that you might want to take back. Like inviting him over so that he can fall asleep in your lap while your fingers card through his soft hair.

"Please don't apologize. I enjoyed that as much as you did, and you know it."

"You did?"

"Absolutely."

There is a pause before his next message.

"I did miss you."

"I missed you terribly, Kento. Was it a tough week?"

"Not difficult. Just draining. On surveillance."

"Please go to sleep soon."

"Are you already tired of me?"

"Are you already being melodramatic?"

"Nobody has ever called me melodramatic before."

"You just hide it well."

"As well as my desire to hold you?"

Your fingers still for a moment. How brazen.

"Not as much as my desire to kiss you all over your handsome face."

"You find me handsome?"

You can clearly picture that subtly pleased expression of his and almost roll your eyes. Of course Kento wouldn't take much note of his own appearance.

"Can you think of anyone who wouldn't find you handsome?"

"That's a matter of perspective."

"Name one. Go on."

"Gojo."

"Now you're playing dangerous games."

"How so?"

"If he were to receive an anonymous email asking him to sing praises to your beauty all week ... "

"All right. I take it back."

"Too late. Now go to sleep."

"Have mercy on me."

There is a small pause before his next reply comes.

"Goodnight, my darling."

For a long time, before you go to sleep, your heart hums a pleasant, warm rhythm to that word.

@tsukimefuku @kentocalls @actuallysaiyan @g-kleran

[whorrorbellee]

STEVE HARRINGTON MUST DIE:TWO

Its been a year since someone spread a rumour to you school that you've sucked off half the football team in one night. one year of catcalls, one year of graffitied lockers and bullying, so when you find out his majesty king Steve is behind the rumour its time to take drastic action against him. King!Steve x reader

A/N; reread my own fan fiction, thought it was okay ig then released I had to release the second chapter because I wanted to know what was going on, im gonna add warnings later but im pretty sure there is going to be some sweet sweet smut in this so if your under 18 pls leave or ill sleep with your dad, maybe I already have who knows? master list chapter one

ill edit this later btw

Chapter two 

The soft chime of the bell rings throughout the store, you gaze up upon the entree, Harrington's body moves through the store before stopping at the counter.

“I called you last night, you didn't pick up, wanted to see if you got home safe” Steve leans over the counter of Beans&Books the local coffee shop bookstore you practically live in when you're not working.

“How do you know where I work ?” you interrogate, staring at his brown eyes.

“I read a lot, pride and persuas-”,

”prejudice”

”yeah that, you know the classics” he scratches at his nose, other hand running over the smooth wooden counter, then he fiddles with the pens in the white mug and the plastic  clashes together. His lips pouts, big brown eyes staring down at you. 

“Oh i wasn't aware that you could” you shake your head at him, you return the stare. 

“Could what?’he smiles.

“Read” you say bluntly.

There's a pause, Steve swallows and then glances at the floor, his gaze returns and his face brightens “You're so funny” his eyes lingering down upon your lips as he folds his arms into himself as he chuckles “that was good”

You glance away from him awkwardly “Can I help you with anything?” you ask, leaning back into the wall, running your hands over your jeans. You take the pile of new stock into your hands. Coming out from behind the till and meandering over to the shelves  slowly, careful to not drop anything. 

“Yeah i wanna find a new book” 

“Okay” you look at him, he's wearing a green collared henley shirt  and dark blue harrington jacket, “What-uh books are you into?” you look back at the shelf in front of you, running your finger over the author's name until you find the correct place. 

The coffee shop bustles with life, the milk frother screeching, beans grinding as customers talk, it's hard to hear him over all the noise so you stare back at him. 

‘I liked Romeo and Juliet, ' he nods. "Yeah, I liked Romeo and Juliet,” he says almost as if he was confirming it himself. 

‘So Shakespeare?um Macbeth? Midsummer's night dream, Taming of the shrew?”

“What's taming the shrew?”  he asks. 

“oh , like the movie, Kiss me, Kate?” 

“I don't know it” 

“Okay , so like Bianca can't marry until her sister does, and this guy really likes her so they get this guy to pretend to be a tutor and make him court her so he can marry Bianca, its like fake dating but the other one doesn't know it ”

Your turn to put another book on the shelf wondering if you've been a bit on the nose, Steve is none the wiser. 

“Yeah, I'll take that.” His arms stretch out behind him, shirt following exposing his midriff and you can help but fixate on him for a second too long, you almost forget how he towers over you as you look up at his now smirking face, eyes half closed as he looks down upon your face.

Cheeks heated at his gaze “Okay cool” You head to the sections of plays, eyes catching onto the novel you were looking for before ringing him up at the front desk.

“That's five dollars, would you like a receipt?”

‘No. But hey, do u wanna go for a coffee sometime and like talk about shakespeare” he points at you 

“I um, you know what, yeah sure” you shrug your shoulders.

“Really?”

“Yeah” you respond nodding.

“Cool, cool! I'll call you yeah?” he slaps the counter with his palm tucking the book into his coat before walking out the door, he flashes you a smile and leaves. You hear his car leave and smile to yourself for a minute.

You look over at the coffee counter Aaron (your coworker) smiles at you, he's just rinsed out the portafilter. You hear the beans grinding, and he's smoothing his hands over his apron before approaching you. 

“Was that his majesty?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah” 

“Is he okay? I didn't know he could read” he reclines, his bleached afro a contrast against the brown painted wall behind him.

“That's what i said, he just laughed, like he was on the david letterman show” you look at Aaron, his face is shrivelled up in confusion and you grin.

‘He bought Shakespeare, and then asked to hangout, and you weren't at the party last night right? But he stole my-” you speak in a hushed whisper in front of the customers, “ he stole my joint like out my hand after staring at me” 

“Huh, i think he wants to, you know” he cocks his head, eyes widening and you laugh. 

“Yeahhh”

“No really” he looks over to the counter, “shit i gotta get back to work” he jogs back to his counter smiling brightly at the old lady who is holding a dog and a sandwich the size of it. you look at the pile of boxes you should probably sort out, you sigh and stare at the door.

The telephone rings and you pick up the bubblegum pink receiver, plastic cold in your hand.“Hello?” your finger hooks around the coiled wire and pulls it away from you, twirling it around.you rests against the wall bathed in a cotton candy blue hue. 

“Hey, it's Steve"

You hear his soft breath against the telephone“Oh hi, how's the book going?”

“Yeah great, wanna come to a party on friday?” he asks quickly.

‘Yeah sure, want me to tell Eddie to bring gear?” 

“No i just wanna see you” you can almost hear him smile. You plop yourself down on your bed, hair falling against the plush floral comforter.

“Oh really?you know i dont deal right?” you query, eyes wandering your room to fixate on something other than the ceiling, eyes catching onto the billy idol poster on your wardrobe door, a mean stare and his bleach blonde hair looks back at you.

“Yeah of course , can't stop thinking about how pretty you are,” he whispers into the phone. 

You sit up quickly smiling, there's a pause and you hear soft “shit” before he coughs.

“What was that?” you interrogate.

“How funny you are, anyway I'll pick you up at 7 friday! bring a swimsuit, sounds good? great see ya”

The phone line drops dead before you can reply and suddenly you panicking about what to wear, how to do your hair and who the fucks gonna be there, you dont even like the guy.

You're in and out of classes, studying in the library suddenly Steve is everywhere, Tommy H and Carol snickering behind your back after he waves or smiles at you. You smile at his insolence playing into his idea of you, a mean stare one day and the next a shy look away. 

Suddenly It's Friday and you're in the back of chem class staring straight into the back of Steve's head when Eddie throws a piece of paper straight at your eye, you glare at him and his face falls, he leans across his desk to whisper to you. 

“Heard your going to the famous Hagen party”

“Huh?” your pencil taps against the table. 

“Yeah, Tommy's party, it like a massive bender, everyone hooks up with everyone, i heard Billy is taking Nicole”

“ Billy's going?”you panic.” i don't want to see that douche”

“Dude, your going with the king”

You wince against his words. “Shit yeah, two douches”

“Im gonna die, they're gonna try to have sex with me and then im gonna die”

“Whou would you bang then, out of all three like realistically?" Eddie grins, you glance back at him and then around the room. Steve leans back in his chair playing with his pencil on the table, Tommy's asking his friend the next desk over if the glue stick hes got in his hand can get him high, then you shuffle and look behind you, billy smiles and winks at you, nice enough until he stares directly at carols tits. 

You give Eddie a knowing stare and he answers for you “ it's me isn't it ? we should just go home and fuck.” 

You laugh at him “i know im whore eddie but christ, your my loser best friend and your in love with Kirsty from the bar” 

“Steve then?” 

“I hope he dies, but i've heard his dick game is good” you shrug.

continue on

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[marauder-exe]

Love in the Time of Zombies (1)

Pairing: Glenn Rhee x Reader

Words: 722

Synopsis: Glenn stumbles into a young woman searching for supplies

No warnings. This is part one of a series im creating. Be kind, i havent written in years. Let me know what you think.

The tin can dropped to the floor with a sharp sound. She winced as it echoed through the aisles of the store. She didn't dare to move a muscle, fearing the sound had drawn the attention of walkers. She felt as though this supply run might not end up being worth her while. Just as she slowly moved to pick up the can off of the floor, a figure whipped around the corner of the aisle. She almost shrieked but knew better than to create more noise than she already had. She looked up at the figure, holding a gun right at her head. However, when he noticed all the cans in her hand, he seemed nervous and retracted his gun.

"Oh gosh I'm sorry, I thought you were a walker." He blurted out, his hand grazing the back of his neck. "'s alright, I would've done the same thing if I had heard you" She laughs slightly, trying to calm her racing heart. He chuckled in response, eyeing her arms full of different cans and boxes. "Supply run?" He questions. She looks down at her arms and laughs, she must look so ridiculous right now. This small girl, carrying her own weight in long-life tins of beans. "Yes actually, the house I'm stowed away in doesn't have much left, I thought I'd replenish my stock, are you doing the same?" Although his arms are empty, he carries a large backpack that one could only assume is for supplies.

"Yes, I'm the usual runner for my camp, just outside the city, Are you holed up by yourself in the city?" If he was honest, he was just happy to stumble upon a new face, being around the same people for so long can become grating, but he would never tell them that. "Yeah." She looks down to the floor. "I never found a group to merge with when this all started, so it's just been me and my trusty baseball bat for the past few months." She seemed sad. He thought he would be too if he had been alone for this long. He glances behind her and sees a beaten-up baseball bat lying against one of the shelves. Not the weapon he would choose, but it seems to be working for her. It may have been her big, shining eyes, the way she looked up at him, or just how resourceful she looked. But he soon found himself inviting her to join him on his way back to camp.

"Would you like to come back to our camp?" He questioned nervously. She looked up from what she was searching for on the shelves. Glenn could see immediately how her demeanor changed. Her eyes shined with joy and a newfound hope. Something he hasn't seen in a long time. "Are you being serious?" A smile erupted on her face as she bounced with joy like a child on Christmas. He was slightly taken aback by her immediate change of character, but he welcomed it nonetheless. "Y-Yeah of course! It's always nice to have new faces helping around the camp. Im Glenn, By the way." She put down her belongings and reached out to shake his extended hand. "Well Glenn, consider me your new best friend because I am so in!" She jumped up and down like an excited child. Her happiness was contagious as a smile filled Glenn's face. "Do you want to finish gathering your supplies and we can go on our way?" She nodded in agreement, scrambling the things she had collected into her backpack.

She wandered around the store, picking up a few more things as she went along. This was the first time Glenn fully took her in. She looked rough around the edges, but that was to be expected. Her hair flowed down her shoulders as if she had just washed it yesterday. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top, her waist lined with some sort of tactical belt, adorned with knives and utilities. A well-prepared girl indeed. She bounded back over to him, her backpack full, with a smile on her face. "Are you ready to go?" She questioned, snapping Glenn out of his thoughts. He smiled back at her, holding his arm out for her to grab. "Let's go." And off they went.

[arcanekai]

Dear Detective | Chapter 2

-------------------------

cw | none

a/n | none

Previous | Next

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Detective Shikanoin Heizou, the youngest detective in Inazuma, was currently sitting in on a court ruling.  As per usual, listening in was always exciting, but the part that Heizou really loved was when all the evidence was laid out.  It gave him a sense of pride knowing he was able to obtain indisputable evidence and put this case to a close.  

With the exciting part over, Heizou got up from his seat and walked out of the court house and let out a sigh.  His shift was over and he had the rest of the week off.  If it were up to him, he would have liked to keep working, but Kujou Sara forced him to take one since he hasn't had a break in two years. 

"Two years…has it really been that long since that incident occurred?", thought Heizou.  Truth be told, he would be lying if he said that he was over them.  All the time spent with them was down the drain because of "one mistake".  He got countless messages from them after that day saying sorry and a bunch of other bullshit.  Heizou scoffed at the thought of getting back together after what they pulled.  Yet a part of him still feels like he is supposed to be with them. Why?  Shouldn't removing the mark get rid of that feeling? 

He remembers telling his friends what happened a couple of weeks after the incident as an apology for being radio silent.  It was surprising to say the least to see Kunikuzushi so worked up on his behalf, but he appreciated it nonetheless.  It was also nice to be surrounded by friends that truly cared for him.  They all came to Inazuma just to comfort him personally.  Aether making him his favorite fried foods, Venti bringing the best liquor he could find, Xiao and Kunikuzushi playing video games with him, and Kazuha separating them due to the bickering.  Eventually, a smile was placed on Heizou's face.  They even came back to help him move into his new apartment.  A group of friends so unlike a certain childhood friend of his, well ex friend now.  

But the thing that really got him through this tough time was books.  His escape from reality.  Now that he has become a detective, he rarely has time for reading, but perhaps he should stop by the bookstore on his way back home and catch up on some of the novels he has yet to finish. 

------------------

As he walked into the bookstore, a sense of nostalgia washed over him.  When he was a kid, he would come to this very same store after his father's martial art lessons.  Spending hours upon hours, curled up on the bean bag chair in the corner of the store reading his heart's content.  Of course when it got too late into the night, his older sister would find him and would have to drag him back home.  

With a small smile adorning his face, Heizou perused the shelves until something caught his eye.  A murder mystery book and by the looks of it.  Instantly flipping to the back of the book, the author bio is short and has no picture.  From this knowledge, Heizou deduces that the author is relatively new to writing.  The bio only notes that the author is from Liyue and likes spicy food.  Obviously, the Yae Publishing House doesn't want this author to be well known just yet.  It's most likely a ploy to increase the sales like it did with Miss Hina and her appearance revealed.  He hopes that this new author won't be overwhelmed when the time comes.  To put it simply, Heizou adores the fact that there is an author writing mystery.  There aren't many authors who take up the genre, so Heizou is excited to see what is in store for this new author.  Briefly looking at the summary, and deciding to buy it, Heizou makes his way back home to indulge his curiosity.

[aspiringtrashpanda]

🍙TOGE x YUUTA💍

This is part of my spontaneous event, which can be found here.  This one is for @usuallyjustsubtext  💕 OF COURSE, it ended up being the longest one so far 😅

Toge pulled his cupcakes out of the blast chiller, setting the tray down on the stainless-steel table in the middle of his kitchen. His bakery was hidden from the public behind swinging doors, a relatively small room towards the back of his best friend’s coffee shop, his own haven of limitless tea, espresso, and tunes.  

The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with recipes, equipment, and cooling product, rendering the space cluttered and cramped, though he made do.  It wasn’t his place to complain, anyway.  The primary attraction for the café were the artisanal coffee beans Maki packaged every morning, imported twice a week from all over the world, resulting in her craft bearing more importance in the eyes of the investors.  It was simple, really.  What they put aside for purchase would sell out almost instantly, and even then, flocks of customers would come from all around for a latte or cappuccino made from her single origin, ethically sourced coffee grounds.  

Of course they would give her ample space for her top-of-the-line espresso machines.  

Despite his best efforts to shine a spotlight on his pastries and baked good, Toge couldn’t seem to ever beat Maki in sales.  Not to say it was a genuine, win-or-be-terminated situation.  No, it was more of a winner-could-probably-get-a-new-stand-mixer-if-he played-his-cards-right situation.  A little competition between friends did wonders for morale.  

Plus, he was feeling lucky today, and he had always excelled at Go Fish!

As he piped the buttercream frosting in a gentle spiral over the chocolate cupcake, grinning as the different shades of blue and purple and green mixed into the perfect gradient, a familiar voice was heard from outside the twin doors.

Maki hollered, far louder than necessary if she was talking to a customer, “He’s in the back!  He can answer any questions you have!”  

Toge raised an eyebrow to his audience of cupcakes.  Could he, though?

Still, he did appreciate his friend’s less than subtle warning that he was about to have to deal with someone.  Face to Face.

Ugh.

“Hi!” That someone ducked through the doors, and Toge was unsure if the man was hiding his face due to shyness, or if he had genuinely thought he wouldn’t make it through the seven-foot entry without hitting his head.  He instantly hoped both were correct.  He was a sucker for awkward idiots.

Then, the man straightened up and oh, Toge was a sucker for this awkward idiot.

“I’m Yuuta Okkotsu,” The man extended a hand in greeting.

Toge blinked, staring at the man blankly as if he hadn’t understood the gesture.  He had.  His brain was simply buffering, stuck on processing those sunken, tired eyes the strangest shade of blue, bugging out of his skull thanks to the thick glasses perched upon his crooked nose.  

How something so theoretically ugly could be so beautiful, Toge didn’t know.  He absently likened the sensation to his many sourdough starters – lumpy and full of gross spores, but the bread they made?  Damn.  

Though Toge thought his own silence to be entirely normal, it appeared that Maki had not briefed this Yuuta person on Toge’s inability to talk.  Thus, the man shuffled his feet, lifting broad shoulders to his ears like he was some anxious teenager and not a potential model for... Toge wasn’t sure.  Some nerdy clothing store, or something.  

“The, er, person running the astronomy event today,” Yuuta clarified, offering a sheepish chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, fingers brushing against strands of dark hair.  

Toge wondered if his hair was soft and silky, like his own, or coarse.  He had an incling that it was the former.  

It was Yuuta’s turn to stare at him now, confusion clouding the massive lenses of his glasses as his brow creased and his lips pushed out in the cutest pout Toge had ever seen.  “Um,” Yuuta cleared his throat, “And your name?”

Toge fought back a blush as he frantically searched for his notepad and pen, finding them dusted in a fine layer of flour over by the galaxy cake he had baked early that morning.  

“Toge Inumaki,” He scrawled, pointing to himself.  He tapped the facial mask he wore over chin, lips, and nose, hoping it would serve as an explanation.

It must have, since Yuuta shot him a dazzling smile and turned his attention to the sweets littered throughout the kitchen.  

“You... Wow,” Yuuta’s eyes seemed to double in size as he held up a macaron decorated with swirls of indigo and white on a black backdrop.  The batter had taken Toge two tries to perfect.  The result of a macaron but in space had been worth it.  Yuuta licked his lips subconsciously, murmuring, “You made all these?”

Toge squished up his nose and tilted his head as if to say, duh?

“That’s incredible!” Yuuta enthused, moving on to the sugar cookies that Toge had labored over for hours.  Layers of royal icing depicting stars and planets and rocket ships were arranged on neat trays, ready to be brought out for the many guests expected for the convention.

How Gojo had convinced an Astronomical Association to host an event with an important guest speaker in a small café, Toge wasn’t sure, but he definitely had to (begrudgingly) thank the man later.  

“What were you expecting?” Toge held up the message on his notepad.  

Yuuta chuckled that cute, bashful laugh once more, “Um, I don’t know, a cake fashioned like the moon landing?  Oreos as craters?  I just... This is so intricate.  This is art,” He paused, exhaling slowly as he marveled at the galaxy-glazed donuts.  Toge thought that maybe it was worth reeking of fryer oil if such a lovely man appreciated his craft.  

“Baking is art,” Toge pouted playfully, thrusting the protest against Yuuta’s chest, against the outdated patterned tie and tweed (barf) blazer he wore over a simple white button up.  

“Oh! I didn’t mean to offend!” Yuuta squawked, wringing his hands in worry.  

Toge was so close to writing that the only way Yuuta had offended him was by being roughly his age and dressing like an elderly man.  Before he could jot down his burn, Yuuta continued, rambling, “I’m so sorry!  Of course, it’s an art!  Just like cooking, and, uh...”

“Public speaking?” Toge could tell he was pressing all the right buttons, Yuuta’s skin flushing a deeper red with every comment he penned on the page.  

“Oh god,” Yuuta groaned, “Don’t even get me started.  Actually, please do.  Do get me started.”  He checked his watch, looking over his shoulder to where the buzzing chatter of the café had grown exponentially.  With a yelp, he zoomed out the doors before Toge could even say goodbye, his only explanation a rushed, “Shit! I'm on now!”  

It was approximately two hours later when Yuuta Okkotsu slid through the doors to Toge’s bakery, looking even more exhausted than he had when he had arrived – if that was even possible.  

Toge wasted no time, something inside him telling him to take care of the disastrous man in front of him.   Without a second thought, he tugged a large plate of sweets from the shelf above his prep station, a collection of one of everything he had crafted for the event.   He had planned to share the goodies with Maki once all the guests had left, but his heart told him that Yuuta came first.

The loud grumble from Yuuta’s stomach as he looked down at the platter told Toge that the man hadn’t eaten anything.  He shot Toge a look of disbelief, “You put aside a plate for me?”

“Didn’t want you to miss out,” Toge lied.  Yuuta didn’t need to know the truth.  Not right now.  

Yuuta leaned against the prep table, oblivious to the stripe of flour now imprinted on his black slacks as he munched away on Toge’s treats, the latter busying himself by cleaning all his equipment and wrapping up any leftovers to put in the walk-in fridge.  

The silence between them was kind and gentle.  Comfortable.  

And though many would consider such a feeling between two strangers to be strange, Toge took it as a sign.  

Just as he returned to his notepad, ready to ask Yuuta a question he had never asked anyone before, Yuuta beat him to the task.  

“Hey, um, are you closing up when this is all done?”

Toge nodded, his heart skipping a beat in anticipation.  Was this really happening?

“Can I show you some real stars?  Well, I guess they’re recordings of real stars, projected onto the planetarium ceiling and all, but,” Yuuta babbled, that endearing flush of rosy red seeping across his cheeks as he stammered, “Wait, I don’t know why, but that sounded sketchy.  I’m not going to like, kidnap you or murder you or anything.”

He groaned, burying his face in his hands.  Toge thought he heard a squeak of, “I’m an idiot” from between Yuuta’s palms.

Toge chose not to comment on that, instead scrawling, “Are you asking me out?” He crinkled his eyes to show that he was smiling, just so Yuuta didn’t panic.

“Yes.  Yes, I am.” Yuuta’s shoulders sagged with relief, a dazed giddiness clouding his eyes the moment his request was not met with rejection.  In fact, he straightened his spine, confidence seeping into his frame as he spoke with firm resolve, spurred on by Toge’s encouragement.  “Would you like to go on a date with me?  We don’t have to go to the planetarium.  I just thought, with the convention and the pastries and –”

“Can you teach me constellations?”

“Of course, darling,” Yuuta beamed, “Anything for you.”

[findservicesnearby]

Finding Authentic Flavors: Discovering the Best Mexican Store Near Me Open Now

When the craving for delicious Mexican cuisine strikes, there's nothing quite like the experience of cooking with authentic ingredients. Whether you're in search of spicy salsas, flavorful spices, or just the perfect tortillas, a Mexican store can be a food lover's paradise. But finding a Mexican store near you that's open right now can be a delightful challenge. In this article, we'll guide you on how to locate the best Mexican store in your area that's open at this very moment, so you can embark on a culinary journey that will transport your taste buds to the heart of Mexico.

Exploring the World of Mexican Cuisine

Mexican cuisine is known for its rich, diverse flavors and vibrant colors. From street tacos to mole sauces, the world of Mexican food offers a range of mouthwatering options. But to truly capture the essence of Mexican cooking, you need to start with authentic ingredients. This is where Mexican stores come into play. They offer a treasure trove of spices, chiles, canned goods, and specialty products that are essential for preparing traditional dishes.

https://www.findservicesnearby.com/wp-content/uploads/elementor/thumbs/Findservices-Insta-post-92kb-2-qalpgr8ej46w0d5ftmduboq0nh3hiscfr90xw817ls.webp

The Convenience of Mexican Stores Near You

The convenience of having a Mexican store near you cannot be overstated. Instead of scouring multiple grocery stores, hoping to find those unique Mexican ingredients, you can simply visit a dedicated Mexican store. This one-stop shop simplifies the process of obtaining authentic products, often imported directly from Mexico. However, the challenge lies in finding a store that is open when you need it.

Exploring the Culinary Frontier

Once you've found a Mexican store near you that's open now, it's time to embark on a culinary adventure. Explore the store's shelves, chat with the staff for recommendations, and take your taste buds on a journey through the flavors of Mexico. Whether you're looking to make a mouthwatering mole, craft the perfect guacamole, or simply enjoy some authentic Mexican snacks, a Mexican store near you can provide the ingredients and inspiration you need.

Exploring the Culinary Frontier

Once you've found a Mexican store near you that's open now, it's time to embark on a culinary adventure. Explore the store's shelves, chat with the staff for recommendations, and take your taste buds on a journey through the flavors of Mexico. Whether you're looking to make a mouthwatering mole, craft the perfect guacamole, or simply enjoy some authentic Mexican snacks, a Mexican store near you can provide the ingredients and inspiration you need.

A World of Flavors Awaits

Walking into a Mexican store is like stepping into a world of flavors and aromas. You'll encounter an array of colorful spices, from the smoky depth of chipotle to the fiery punch of habanero, all of which are key components of authentic Mexican dishes. You'll also find a variety of dried chiles, such as ancho and guajillo, which can be used to create complex and flavorful salsas and sauces.

In addition to spices and chiles, Mexican stores often carry a wide selection of canned goods, including beans, tomatoes, and chiles in adobo sauce. These items are staples in Mexican cooking, offering convenience and a burst of flavor to your dishes. And don't forget about the corn tortillas – an essential part of Mexican cuisine. You might even find fresh tortillas, which take the culinary experience to the next level.

Discovering Unique Products

One of the joys of visiting a Mexican store is stumbling upon unique and unexpected products that you won't find in mainstream grocery stores. From cactus paddles (nopalitos) to exotic fruit juices like tamarind and hibiscus, these stores often stock a diverse range of ingredients that allow you to get creative in the kitchen.

Additionally, Mexican stores frequently offer an assortment of Mexican candies, snacks, and desserts. Treat yourself to some tamarind-flavored lollipops or spicy mango gummies for a taste of Mexico's sweet side. You might even discover beverages like Mexican sodas or horchata, a sweet, rice-based drink that pairs perfectly with spicy Mexican cuisine.

Supporting Local Businesses

By patronizing a Mexican store near you, you're not only satisfying your culinary desires but also supporting local businesses. These small, family-owned stores often serve as cultural hubs within the community, connecting people with their heritage and providing a sense of belonging. Your visit helps keep these vital establishments thriving, preserving the richness of Mexican culture within your area.

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[callemexico]

Every Foodie's Dream: 7 Spectacular Edmonton Cafes!

Gourmets and food experts, unite! Explore no farther than Edmonton, a dynamic city, if you're searching for the best gastronomic adventure. There is a flourishing café culture in this hidden jewel of Canada that will entice your taste senses and leave you wanting more. Our list of 7 amazing cafés includes both contemporary hotspots and quaint tiny hideaways that are sure to please even the pickiest foodies. These Edmonton Restaurant offer everything you could possibly want, from a special artisanal coffee experience to a comfortable brunch spot. Now fill your stomach and join me as we explore the delectable world of Edmonton's best cafés!

The Vegetable Garden

Situated in the center of Downtown Edmonton restaurant, The Greenhouse is a paradise for food enthusiasts looking for an exceptional and one-of-a-kind eating experience. You will be met by an attractive ambiance filled with lush vegetation and natural light spilling through its huge windows as soon as you step inside this charming cafe.

The Greenhouse's cuisine features a delicious blend of regional foods and international flavors. Everything they serve, from their delectable smoked salmon benny to their famous avocado toast topped with freshly poached eggs, is made with care and imagination. Those with dietary preferences or restrictions can also choose from a variety of vegetarian and vegan choices.

It's not simply the delicious food, though, that makes The Greenhouse stand out; their dedication to sustainability is evident. By sourcing food from nearby farms and suppliers, they make sure that every meal lessens its carbon footprint and benefits the neighborhood.

For the ideal harmony of flavors, pair your meal with one of their skillfully made coffees or speciality teas. Remember to leave room for dessert as well! Savor their rich pastries or reward yourself with a piece of their well-known matcha cheesecake.

Tucked away in the center of downtown Edmonton lies a little jewel that will take you back in time: the Little Brick General Store and Cafe. A must-visit for any food enthusiast, Little Brick General shop and Cafe blends the charm of a small general shop with the warm atmosphere of a cafe.

Upon entering Little Brick, you are welcomed with shelves brimming with regionally produced goods, such as candles and artisanal jams. This already warm and inviting environment is made even cozier by the nostalgic decor.

The cafe itself has a fantastic menu that accommodates a wide range of dietary needs and tastes. Little Brick offers a variety of lunch options to suit every taste, from light to full breakfasts. They have the most delicious freshly baked pastries that go well with their carefully made coffee.

Little Brick's patio area outside is one of its best attractions. Encircled by verdant foliage and illuminated by ambient light, this location is ideal for unwinding with companions or relishing some private moments while relishing your preferred libation.

Nevertheless, Little Brick's dedication to assisting regional producers and artists is what really makes it stand out. They have established a creative nexus in the community by presenting products manufactured by Edmonton-based artisans and obtaining materials from neighboring farms.

Retrograde Koffee

In downtown Edmonton, Iconoclast Koffee is a coffee lover's paradise for an authentic handcrafted experience. There is a sophisticated and creative vibe to this café because of its modern, minimalistic decor.

You are welcomed by the heady scent of freshly brewed coffee when you walk inside Iconoclast Koffee. With genuine enthusiasm for what they do, the baristas here will gladly walk you through the menu options. Every taste is delightful, whether it's a pour-over made with just one origin or a skillfully made espresso-based drink.

Iconoclast Koffee's dedication to using only premium beans from reliable farms around the world is one of its most notable features. Their commitment to excellence is evident in every cup they serve.

Apart from their outstanding coffee, Iconoclast Koffee also provides a variety of delicious pastries and snacks to go with your drink. There is something for every palate, whether it is a rich slice of cake or a flaky croissant.

Iconoclast Koffee's atmosphere is ideal for spending quality time alone or catching up with friends. You may unwind and enjoy your drink in an appealing area created by the modern interior with lots of natural light.

North's Foxtrot Coffee Roasters

In the center of Edmonton, there is a hidden gem called Foxtrot Coffee Roasters North. This cafe, tucked away in a quiet nook, has a warm vibe and excellent coffee that will make you want to come back time and time again.

The inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee greets you as soon as you enter Foxtrot Coffee Roasters North. The room is well furnished with contemporary accents and cozy sitting arrangements, giving it the ideal place to decompress.

Foxtrot Coffee Roasters North offers a menu with a selection of speciality coffees that are expertly and carefully made. Every cup, from lattes to cappuccinos, is expertly made with specially roasted beans, guaranteeing a robust and aromatic flavor.

A distinguishing feature of Foxtrot Coffee Roasters North is its dedication to sustainability. They encourage sustainable practices by collaborating directly with nearby farmers and sourcing their beans ethically. Each and every sip of their skillfully crafted coffee reflects their passion.

Loca Linnea

A hidden treasure, Cafe Linnea is located in the center of Edmonton's downtown. The best of French and Scandinavian cuisines are combined in this quaint cafe to create a genuinely unique dining experience.

You'll be taken to a chic, comfortable room that radiates warmth and elegance as soon as you step inside. Clean lines, organic materials, and an abundance of plants give the interior design a contemporary yet welcoming feel.

However, the cuisine at Cafe Linnea is just as amazing as the setting. From traditional French fare like croque madame to delectable Scandinavian fare like gravlax on rye bread, each dish on their menu is expertly prepared utilizing ingredients that are sourced locally.

Their brunch selections are especially well-liked by both visitors and locals. Indulge in delectable delicacies like their signature Swedish pancakes with lingonberry jam on top or smoked salmon eggs Benedict. If you're feeling particularly daring, try one of their specialty cocktails or pair your meal with one of their beautifully made coffees.

Not only does Cafe Linnea provide a wide array of delectable pastries and treats, but its attention to detail doesn't end there. Savor the exquisite tastes of their house-made macarons or treat yourself to a slice of their delicious chocolate cake.

Vero Coffee

An undiscovered treasure located in the center of Edmonton's downtown is Credo Coffee. Not surprisingly, this cafe has become a favorite among both locals and visitors due to its excellent coffee and comfortable atmosphere.

The welcoming scent of freshly brewed coffee greets you as soon as you enter Credo Coffee. These baristas are real coffee connoisseurs who meticulously and precisely make each cup. Credo has a selection of drinks to suit any taste, whether you're craving a traditional espresso or would rather try one of their specialized offerings, like the lavender latte.

Credo offers a great assortment of pastries and light meals in addition to their excellent coffee. There are plenty of mouthwatering delicacies to go with your morning cup of coffee, from tasty muffins to fluffy croissants.

Credo is unique among Edmonton cafes in that it is dedicated to sustainability. Their beans are sourced from nearby roasters who place a high value on moral behavior and ecologically responsible farming techniques. It's energizing to know that Credo promotes ethical business practices in addition to serving delicious coffee.

Sweet Duchess Bakery

Lastly, we reach Duchess Bake Shop, the highlight of Edmonton's café culture. For both locals and tourists, this quaint bakery in the center of Downtown Edmonton has grown to be a beloved institution.

As soon as you enter this classy French pastry shop, the delightful smell of freshly made pastries will welcome you. Enjoy a sense of sheer indulgence with every bite at Duchess, from delicate macarons to flaky croissants. Their pastry chefs are genuine artists, creating visually breathtaking pastries that melt in your mouth with every mouthwatering bite.

It is impossible to visit Duchess without sampling their renowned Duchess cake, a masterpiece packed with rich chocolate ganache that will leave you wanting more. It is the perfect afternoon treat when paired with one of their skillfully made coffees or teas.

However, Duchess Bake Shop offers more than just desserts; in addition to savory treats like quiches and sandwiches, they also source their high-quality products as locally as possible. It's understandable why foodies from all across Edmonton frequent this café.

[cedlens]

From Chef Yia Vang, the Hmong Grocery Store, to my plate

Chef Yia Vang has journeyed from being a refugee born in Thailand to a dishwasher in Wisconsin and is now the owner of Union Hmong Restaurant and Vinai restaurant in Minneapolis. He created these restaurants to celebrate his ethnic food and to share the flavors from his parents kitchen. As I was not able to dine at one of his restaurants, I decided that I would take his recipes and bring them to my very white, uncultured, and unused kitchen in La Crosse, Wisconsin. The dish that I decided to try to replicate and taste was a dish that is served at Union Hmong Restaurant.

To prepare for making one of Vang's recipes I had to get the necessary ingredients. I decided to go to Hmong Grocery Store in Holmen, Wisconsin. As I was driving to the store, I was surprised that there was a Hmong grocery store in Holmen. On my way from Winona to Holmen, I was driving on country roads where fields stretched from both sides as far as the eye could see. While driving past the homes beside the country road, I noticed that there was an unusual amount of bigfoot statues in the front yards. On the 30 minute drive I couldn't help but wonder how this grocery store came to be in what appeared to be a place that was lacking any sort of culture or diversity., that is unless you consider an affinity for bigfoot to be culture.

Hmong Grocery Store is a family run business that has a variety of exotic fruits and ethnic foods. It also has a deli inside the store where customers can buy hot and ready meals.

Upon entering the store I was pleasantly surprised to see plants in the entry way. It felt welcoming and it brought beauty to the store. I was also surprised by how large the store was. I was expecting a store that would be half the size with only a few shelves. The amount of options came as a shock. I suppose my assumption that the store would be small was based on the location of the store as well as the outside of other ethnic grocery stores that I have driven past. This was also probably due to the institutional racism that is evident in the United States. Ethnic grocery stores are smaller and look more run down because there are less opportunities for growth and services for ethnic grocery stores as there is for Americanized stores. I wasn't surprised that I was the only person shopping in the store. Although it was expected, it made me feel more insecure as it made me feel more out of place. I felt like my presence in the store was noticeable and unusual. I am sure that I felt this way because the experience was unusual for me and not for the owners. For them, my 10 minute presence in their store mostly likely went unnoticed or only meant a new customer for their numbers and records.

Before I had entered I had written down a list of the items that I would need which helped ground me to the experience. Whenever I go grocery shopping I have a list and an agenda, so keeping with that routine made the experience feel more familiar and helped with the cultural shock. But that was about the only thing that felt familiar. Usually I like to go to the same grocery store so because I know where everything is, what each aisle has and how to limit the amount of time spent shopping. At this store, not only did I know know the aisles, I also was not familiar with most of the food items as well as the language. I decided to work my way from left to right of the store and used my sight and knowledge of what ingredients looked like to make my selections. This strategy worked well until I had to pick out lemongrass stock. I have never used lemongrass stock before and i had little knowledge of what it would look like. Ultimately I was able to google and do a process of elimination to select the correct ingredients. Another selection that I made that was a blind pick was when I selected a drink to go with my dinner. None of the drinks in the refrigerated section had English writing on the cans and therefore I picked a drink that had a picture of what I thought was a fruit that looked interesting. I like fruit flavored drinks and juices so I figured that this choice would be similar to other drinks that I like.

After purchasing my ingredients, the next step was creating a dish as similar to Vangs as possible! I have limited experience cooking, often my partner is the one who takes on the role of creating delicious dishes, however, I was up for the challenge. While working with the lemongrass stock, I was surprised at the texture of it. It was hard and didn't chop similarly to the ginger and the shallot that I had chopped right before it. I had never used lemongrass stock before and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the experience. Learning that it needed to be peeled and that it had an outer layer brought in some new enjoyment into the kitchen.

The end result does not look as pretty as the original picture that I was basing my efforts off of. I was happy with the browning on the green beans that I had achieved and overall I liked the taste. Usually when I have green beans, I make them with butter rather than oyster sauce. The flavor profile was new for me and I liked the opportunity to expand my palette.

[anatolypilled]

now whos gonna give me ted/trent where henrys visiting ted in london and the two of them go grocery shopping and oh what a coincidence... its Trent Crimm shopping with his 3 year old daughter perched on his hip having an absolute MELTDOWN in the dairy aisle.

its like. mid morning on a sunday and trents shopping with his flannel pajamas still on his daughter has matching ones too and his hair is put up into one of his buns ..... he is just EXHAUSTED bc of work + taking care of his daughter for the weekend (dont get him wrong .... he loves his daughter soso much and would die for her but sometimes. he wishes she would stop crying for a FEW minutes) and hes just tiredly looking at the cartons of milk. ted and henry see them and ted introduces henry to trent and henry is just :DDD ur daughter is so cute! and INSTANTLY... UPON SEEING HENRY.... HIS DAUGHTER SMILES AND STOPS CRYING

and ted and trent are staring at each other as henry shakes her little hand and introduces himself and she laughs and giggles and henry in general is just super good with little kids. its just his energy. and trent crimm is on the Verge Of Tears bc ted lassos son is the kindest human being hes ever seen and he realizes that henry is exactly like ted. and ted being The Person he is offers to shop with trent and henry instantly takes trents daughter and takes care of her for a little bit as trent and ted shop. trents still a little out of it bc no one has ever shown this much kindness to him and hes just so confused and doesnt know what to Do With It. and teds talking his ears off and ranting about uk grocery stores and making fun of eggs on shelves and beans on toast or whatever but trent is staring at him in the fucking. fruit section and is just realizing that hes Fallen In Love bc he looks like That and his daughter was just crying a Storm and nevertheless TWO LASSOS make it into his life and give him reprieve and he is This close to kissing ted lasso in front of some veggie stands

[misspearly1]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Buzz, Buzz

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

WC: 980

Warnings: NO MINORS 🔞 18+ Content. Talk about sex toys.

Fair Trade Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Back to Main Masterlist

-

Joel walked through the Ann Summer store, scanning the overhead signs, considering he’s alone, he reads them out loud, “For Him & Her, wow, they do stuff for men too? Hm.... Lingerie, nope. Gifts, nope. A-ha, Sex Toys., here we go.”

Running his hand along the shelves, he’s surprised at the variety of toys, bunching his eyes brows at one called ‘Rampant Rabbit’ and skipping over it to the next. Picking the packaging up, he evaluated the description - ‘Fun small bullet vibrator, with three settings and a long-lasting battery life, purely for her pleasure’

“Shoot, didn’t even think bout’ batteries.”  

After browsing the aisles more, he found some and popped them into a bag. He passed other toys along the way and briefly wondered if he should grab more things for Y/N. She lives out there on her own, maybe she will get fed up with this soon and what something else. Quickly brushing the thought off and sticking to what she asked for, instead.  

He begins to leave but stops himself at the curiosity of the Him & Her aisle. Taking a look around him to make sure he is alone; he knows he’s alone but right now he wants to double check.  

“You put this ring around yer what? Huh. Blow up doll? No thanks! What the hell is a Fleshlight?” Joel finds himself once again, reading the description - ‘Fleshlight! A replicated vagina for his pleasure 😉'

Joel left the store after that and made his way back to the watchtower for another fortnightly trade with Y/N and he may or may not have pocketed that item for himself...

-

You stomped your way up the steps once again, to the watchtower checkpoint with Fizzy in tow. Cringing to yourself at how you will greet Joel. You’ve thought about it every day since your last trade with him, played out each and every scenario of how he approaches the subject of the vibrator. Thinking that he’s read the note you prepare yourself for the embarrassment.  

Stopping before the door now, you pause and look down to your dog “Ugh! Can't we just go back home, girl?” She sneezes and gives her tail a waggle while pawing at the door. So, pushing it open you watch her barrel inside and dart towards the sofa, pouncing on Joel.  

“Oh, you’re here first.” Fizzy dances in his lap as he scratches her back, then he looks to you “Yep. Bright n’ early.”  

Walking over to the table you begin taking out the contents from your rucksack. Starting with a sack of apples and potatoes, then bags of berries, carrots, leaks, tomatoes and many more.  Finally, retrieving the last item, a small cloth containing the coffee grounds for Joel.  

You turn around to speak to Joel but get a fright as he is right behind you. He jumps back, as well as yourself and quickly apologises “S-sorry, didn’t mean to startle yer. Here’s the thing you asked for... Erm, Maria popped it in a bag, I..I haven't looked at it.”  

“Okay...” raising your eyebrows through his frantic explanation and taking the bag from his hands, “...Thanks.” You pass over the beans now and step away for him to exchange the other supplies from his own rucksack. As his back is turned, you peep inside the bag and see the vibrator, thinking to yourself – wow, thanks Maria.  

You weren’t too sure if she would actually be able to get it but either way you’re thankful. Moving over to sit down next to Fizz, Joel finishes what he is doing and instead walks himself into the kitchen area. Switching the flip on the portable stove and pouring bottled water into the pot.  

Sitting up in your seat to get a better look, you ask, “What you doing there?” He pulls out a flask of his own and holds it above his head, shaking it so you could see. Now, slumping back in your seat upon realising what he’s doing, you mumble, “Oh.”

When he’s done, he comes over and parks himself opposite you. Watching him as you stroke Fizzy, he takes a slurp, gulps and then exhales, ahhhh. “That’s some good coffee.”

You smile to him, humming awkwardly. Then, slapping your knees before standing, you announce “Welp, I should get going.” He takes another drink and looks to you, “Already?”  

You look away from him, avoiding his eyes “Uhh, yeah? Just gotta grab my stuff then I'll be on my way.”  

“Didn't realise I was such bad company to keep. Okay, see you next time I guess.” he throws over his shoulder towards you, as you pack your stuff away.  

Why is he suddenly such a conversationalist? -  The colour drains from your face and you quickly blurt out, “Yep, see you next time. Come on girl, let's go.”

You don’t mean to sound harsh but you want to get out of there, fast. Joel’s rucksack lay open on the table and inside it, you could see a sex toy of his own. The blood instantly rushed to your cheeks and so, you’re eager to leave.  

As you’re walking away, he calls out “Stay safe out there.” you reply, saying thank you and telling him, you too.  Then he drops an octave, with a sarcastic tone “Have fun. Bz bz.”  

Coming to a stop, you freeze on the spot before turning to look at him with a shocked expression, but he isn't looking at you. Still facing forward, he grins into another sip of his coffee, nearly spilling it on himself as he stifles a laugh.  

As you turn and exit, you make it halfway down the stairs before having enough courage to jibe back to him “have fun with yer plastic pussy, Joel.”

Joel spits his coffee out, darting to look behind him, at his rucksack, then slapping his hand against his forehead, he grunts “Fuuck!”

Next Chapter

-

@marydjarin

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

.

.

.

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails​

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate​

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-

“You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”

No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.

“THANK YOU???”

You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood. 
As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.

“Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter​

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown​

------------------------------- By @buglife​

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg.  “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips​

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie​

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris​

------------------------------- By @payasita​

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

-

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

-

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

-

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 13: Hogsmeade

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

------------------------

It was a brisk fall morning where the first chill of the coming winter snuck up on you. You wrapped your scarf around your neck tighter and yawned. Another restless night passed with terrifying dreams of Fenris and the bloodbath he left behind him.

You stood in a loose huddle of several students outside the entrance doors to the school. There was the sound of chitchat in the air as you all waited for the teachers. The trees swayed in the wind and a yellowing leaf fell in a spiral and landed on your shoulder. Valkyrie walked over to you with a smile on her face as you brushed off the leaf. It faded slightly upon looking at you.

“Are you okay?” she said, watching you.

You nodded with another yawn. “Bad dreams.”

“Dreams...or something else?”

You might have answered her but were cut off when Pom and Nila came up to the both of you. They had excited smiles on their faces.

“I can’t believe we finally get to go to Hogsmeade!” Pom said with a smile.

Nila agreed exuberantly. “I’ve been itching to go to Honeydukes!”

Valkyrie raised a brow. “Don’t forget we have the ball on Wednesday night, ladies. I, for one, am planning on gettin’ some before everything goes to shit.”

Pom looked at Valkyrie wide eyed while Nila blushed. “Getting what?” Pom said.

You and Valkyrie snort-laughed and Nila started giggling. Pom continued to ask Valkyrie what she was talking about when Professor Heimdall and Professor Fandral arrived at the top of the stairs.

Professor Heimdall wore a long tan cloak over his robes and clasped his hands in front of him. “Students, you will be split off into two groups. One with me and one with Professor Fandral. We are incorporating a buddy system, so pick a partner and do not separate from them. This year we were not planning to go to Hogsmeade, but upon reviewing many requests and with careful planning, we believe it is acceptable. What is not acceptable,” he said, passing a look to each student; his eyes lingered on you briefly, “is to leave your buddy, or your group and venture off alone. The grounds are no longer as safe as they were before. Be wise.”

He said no more as Professor Fandral began to split the groups. You, Valkyrie, Nila and Pom excitedly climbed into a carriage, which eventually trailed behind Professor Heimdall’s. His warning stayed with you as you thought about long teeth and hungry eyes. Despite the fear that had permanently settled in the pit of your stomach, you enjoyed feeling the fresh air on your skin as the carriages took off. The wind was cold, but you had not realized how stifling it was in the castle until you had been outside.

You wondered what a carriage ride with Professor Laufeyson would be like. A blush creeped to your cheeks when you thought about detention with him from a couple of nights ago. The word ‘master’ rested on your lips like a secret behind everything else you said out loud. It was just for him. That night, you went back to your room in a heated daze and wondered what you had gotten yourself into. But the more you thought about it, the more your heart raced with want. You enjoyed calling him master, and you liked the way he looked at you when you did.

“What is going on in that head of yours?” Valkyrie said, elbowing you.

You jerked upright and smiled bashfully. “Nothing, I’m just thinking about what to wear.”

Just then, Pom and Nila deep dived into their clothing assessments and what was in season versus not. You absolutely had no idea how they had obtained this information, but appreciated the feedback. After a long lecture about colour coordination and matching shoes and accessories while balancing complementary colour contrast, the carriages finally arrived at Hogsmeade.

The four of you stuck together and plowed your way through Hogsmeade in a thorough fashion. First you visited Honeydukes, which was decorated completely in black for the season; it was as if the whole shop were dipped in an inkwell. Nila bought an entire bag worth of chocolate frogs, Burtie Botts, every flavour beans, blood pops (to which you wrinkled your nose), and cauldron cakes. Valkyrie bought bouncing bubbly which was a soft drink that made her bounce as if she was on the moon. The novelty wore off quickly since Valkyrie quite enjoyed bouncing above you and smacking your head. You were relieved once you entered Gladrags; there was a strict no enchantment policy and Valkyrie had to stand outside until the effects wore off. The three of you snickered and gave her a mock wave through the window. As she bounced in place, she mouthed: “I could murder you in your sleep, you know.”

You laughed and walked into the store, looking at the various fabrics and clothes they had on display. There were enchanted mannequins walking through the store and dancing every now and again for the customers. A small girl tugged at her father’s coat and pointed to a model just a few inches taller than her. Its face was a flat piece of wood and the thing danced around the girl, doing a pirouette with the bright green dress it was wearing along the way. The girl was mesmerised. You smiled and had to give credit to Gladrags; they knew how to market.

Pom and Nila immediately ran to the hats section where there were shelves upon shelves of all sorts of hats. Plumes of feathers stuck to the side of a large orange hat, while another was a green beret seemingly constructed of snakeskin. One hat seemed to have no set shape or colour, but was a fluid moving thing that sparkled when the light hit it. All the hats were magnificent, though you were never much of a hat person. You went to the back, near the sale items, to see if there was anything that you could afford. It had been quite a year gathering enough money to meet your supplies and tuition costs for the year. You hoped that once you aced all your exams, a scholarship or internship could be earned. Though once you saw Professor Laufeyson’s memories, your thoughts about joining the ministry were on pause.

As if the devil himself heard, you heard a familiar voice from your left.

“Good morning, Miss Eves,” Professor Laufeyson said.

You flinched, nearly knocking over a nearby twirling mannequin which actually hissed at you. “Professor! What are you doing here?”

His eyes narrowed, and he looked as if you had committed a grave mistake. “What was that?”

“I-” You thought about it for a moment. Ah yes….your voice got lower, “Master, what are you doing here?”

He lit up and smiled at you. You wondered if you would ever get used to that.

“I have some business to attend to,” he said.

It was hard not to roll your eyes at how insanely cryptic he was. You were about to question further, but Valkyrie came.

“Professor! Fancy seeing you here,” she said, looking between you and him. You tried to put on your most neutral expression.

“Hogsmeade used to be quite the haunt for me when I was a student here,” Professor Laufeyson said, glancing out the window. “I particularly enjoyed Zonko’s. Well, are you young ladies finding dresses for the ball?”

“Yes!” Pom said from behind a rack of clothes. “And we found the perfect one for you, Freya,” she said, bringing out a frilly dark purple dress that had a mermaid style bottom and an attached cloak that looked more like a cape.

Valkyrie gasped with laughter when you took the dress and promised Pom you would try it on. You thanked her and elbowed Valkyrie. Professor Laufeyson looked as if he was trying to conceal a small smile.

The other girls left in a mad dash when Nila spotted a row of silk scarves that were on sale. Valkyrie went with them, giving you a strange look that showed you would be interrogated very soon.

“You better go try on that aubergine of a dress,” Professor Laufeyson said with a smirk.

You laughed. “I think I’m going to go with my outfit from last year,” you said, putting the purple nightmare back on the rack. “These new fashion trends are getting out of hand, they’re not for me.”

Professor Laufeyson grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. Your heart raced as he held your face in his hand. You prayed no one saw you. “Nothing here could do justice to the body underneath these clothes,” he said, his voice husky. Just as you leaned in towards him, he pulled away. You made the tiniest annoyed sound, and he chuckled.

He said goodbye, and you joined up with the girls to continue on their shopping spree. Nila had gotten a peach coloured dress that had a tight waist and billowing skirt. Pom got a short purple dress that was clean cut and cute. Valkyrie got a crimson dress that had a courageous slit down the side and a neckline that wound around her neck in a halter top. Your stomachs rumbled loudly, so the four of you headed into the Three Broomsticks, a pub down the road. Since Hogsmeade knew well that Hogwarts students were coming in today, they allowed minors into the pub.

You sat at a table and were surprised to see Professor Laufeyson sitting rather reluctantly with Professor Heimdall and Professor Fandral. They did not see the four of you slip into the booth just behind them, a wall between you. There was enough chatter in the pub to conceal your voices, though you kept it down just enough to hear what the teachers were saying.

Someone cleared their throat. You recognized Heimdall’s voice; it was rich and deep. “Loki, how is your semester going so far?”

Professor Laufeyson’s voice was effortless, as usual. “Teaching is such a noble profession, I ought to have tried it much earlier in life.”

“You were missing from the staff meeting last Saturday,” Heimdall said. His words asked without stating explicitly, why?

Professor Laufeyson let out a small laugh. “I had to drop everything and come here after Hubert’s passing, so when I can I must tie up some loose ends.”

“What might Loki Laufeyson’s loose ends be, I wonder?” Heimdall said, his voice low.

The server came by and dropped off drinks at their table. He then came to your table and took your orders. The other girls had lost interest at this point and began chatting, but you craned your neck to the edge of the wall to keep listening.

“...yes, I will be in and out after the ball. Business to attend to before we dive head first into midterms,” Professor Laufeyson said.

He was leaving? You wondered. He had told you he would not go after Fenris until the coldest night of winter, and you believed that. Your fingers tapped nervously, thinking about what else he was up to. Aside from seeing him in class and detention, you had no way of knowing where he was or what he was doing. It was not as if he was even remotely communicative about his life. The most you knew about him was from breaking into his memory bank like a thief in the night.

The conversation shifted to Professor Fandral talking about his wife and children and how difficult it was to leave them for semesters at a time. Eventually, their chairs shuffled and the four of you put your heads down and ate your meals. Your shepherd’s pie had gone cold but was still quite delicious.

About an hour later, you were back in the school, heading to your common room, evading Valkyrie so she would not ask you about Professor Laufeyson. You were just not ready to have any sort of proper conversation about it yet. You had no idea what was happening, and a part of you felt immensely guilty about the whole thing. At least if it was your personal secret, you could chalk it up to a delusion or dream and still function properly. But once you verbalized it, it was real. Far too real for anything you wanted to deal with now.

In the hall, you spotted a ghostly figure running towards you. Well, half of a ghostly figure. The legs and torso of Crazy Collin ran past you in a gust of cool air. A few minutes later, you saw the upper part floating by.

“‘Ave you seen me legs?” he said. His translucent face was even younger than you.

You pointed behind you. “They went that way.” You smiled as he waved at you and floated onwards in search of his legs. He was always found roaming the halls searching for the bottom half of his body, and it was a fun game that occupied most first years, helping Crazy Collin find his legs.

Suddenly, you thought about Pom’s brother Ken, who now had a missing arm, and your smile disappeared. Most of the time you had laughed at the ghosts of Hogwarts, but you realized they were all people once who had died an awful death. The thought both sobered and saddened you.

***

The next day you were seated in potions class with Pom next to you, taking notes on the use of a bezoar. Professor Laufeyson had put on a slideshow and you tried not to yawn, though his voice was like melted honey.

Something hit the side of your head and fell at your feet. You glanced around before picking it up.

“What is it?” Pom whispered.

It was a crumpled piece of paper and upon unrolling it, you saw an enchanted drawing of two stick figures dancing. One of them had two circles for its breasts and an arrow pointing to the figure that said “You” and the other stick figure had an arrow that said “Me”. You looked up and saw Nathan Gill, the sixth year Quidditch announcer, smiling at you. He pointed to you, then he mimed a little slow dance, and then pointed to himself, all the while mouthing the words, “Do you want to go to the ball with me?”

The paper was snatched from your hand before you could react and you were horrified to see Professor Laufeyson standing over you with a grim expression. “Passing notes in class?” He said with a touch of venom. After reading the note aloud in class for everyone to laugh at, he took five points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

“Harsh,” Pom said, and you did not reply.

At the end of class, you escaped out the door before meeting Professor Laufeyson’s eye, since you were far too embarrassed. Then Nathan found you.

“So, Eves, you want to go with me?” He said, brandishing a daring smile.

He was a year younger than you, though he was taller and his face was not all boyish. His brown eyes held an air of confidence and his dark brown skin glowed in the torchlights. He leaned against the wall next to you, casual yet focused on your face in a way that made you blush. You wished you could seriously consider him. Perhaps if he had come to you only a month earlier, you would not be in this mess at all. A boy like him was normal. A boy like him was far better suited for you. But alas, even though you thought he was invariably handsome and were somewhat attracted to his presence, your heart was doomed to stay in one place.

You smiled at him and were about to speak when Pom piped up out of nowhere, “yes she’s gonna go with you!”

Nathan smiled so brightly that you felt the words escape you. He leaned in and tucked a hair behind your ear. “See you then,” he said in a low voice and walked off with his friends.

Just then, Professor Laufeyson passed by with an icy expression. He glanced at you and Pom as if you were stones on the wall and continued on his way, not giving you another look. Your heart sank while Pom excitedly grabbed your arm. “Oh my god, Gill is so cute! Sorry I stepped in, but I had to! I thought you were going to throw up or say no, so I did what any good friend ought to do.” She smiled at you and you nodded hollowly, wondering what Professor Laufeyson had thought.

You were on your way to the Great Hall for lunch as you puzzled about Nathan. Pom had gone to the infirmary to check on her brother. The staircase you were climbing up moved and pulled you away from your path and down an empty corridor that would add another ten minutes to your walk. A sigh escaped your lips as you continued to wonder. Why would he ask you? You barely talked to him. Once you had given him ink when he ran out, and so perhaps he was just being nice -

A hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you into a room you had not realized was there. The door shut and vanished, leaving only stone, and you were slammed against the wall with a hard body against yours. The familiar scent of flora and musk hit your senses, and you gazed into a pair of cold blue eyes. His hand clasped around your throat as he leaned in and spoke in your ear.

“Did you think you could get away with being such a tease?” Professor Laufeyson said, his voice was a growl.

You dropped your books and panted. “W-what do you mean sir - er, I mean - Master?”

“That boy was all over you like a dog. Did you hope to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said. Fear bubbled in your stomach at his aggression, but more than that was another feeling...One that was going to get you into deep trouble. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt desire bloom within you. The feeling of his hand on your throat only made it worse - or better - and you felt your core tighten.

He laughed darkly and for a moment; you wondered if it had all been a joke. Then his eyes grew fierce, and he stopped smiling. “It worked.”

You gazed up at him and licked your lips reflexively. His pupils dilated, and he lost his composure. His lips collided with yours and you felt the heat of his breath against you. They were the softest lips you had ever felt, but they crashed onto yours with a ferocity that made your knees weak. He pushed you into the wall to deepen the kiss and you wound your hands around him, one hand reaching up to the back of his head.

He moved his free hand down and cupped your bottom. You raised your right leg around his waist, which he held in place. Your tongues clashed, and you licked his lips as if you were back in a dream. He lifted your other leg, so you were now pinned against the wall, straddling him. He pushed into you and you wrapped your arms around him tightly. There were no thoughts, only the feeling of his fingers digging into your body as his mouth invaded yours. When you felt his erection against your core, a cry escaped your lips. He rubbed it against you once more and you bit his lip, hard.

He chuckled and gently pulled away from you, easing you down. You gazed at each other as if your eyes were magnetically locked. Both of you panted and wiped the corners of your mouth. “You’ve grown quite...assertive, Miss Eves,” he said in a rough voice. He tried to put on a candid act, but you saw through it. He was trying to suppress his desire.

You stepped towards him and put a hand on his chest. “I don’t want to go to the ball with anybody else,” you said.

His face froze, not knowing what to show you. So he chuckled and spun you around, putting a hand on your collarbone. His thumb grazed your throat, and you wondered if flames would erupt across your skin. “You will go to the ball with this boy,” he said. And he licked your ear and bit the lobe. You closed your eyes and nearly moaned. “You will dance with him, have a drink, and do what young women do at balls,” he said as he moved his other hand to your waist, squeezing it. “And at the end of the night, you will come to my room, and I will punish you for all of it. Do we have an understanding?”

Breathlessly, you said, “yes Master.”

He let go of you and bowed slightly, as if you were a proper lady and not the girl he just ravished against the wall. “Good girl,” he said with a wink.

You were thrown so back and forth with his words that your lust had slowly transformed into a deep hunger...and your stomach growled unceremoniously, loudly. He chuckled at the sound as you crossed your arms around yourself, trying to block out the noise.

“Perhaps we should return to the Great Hall and get you well fed. You need to keep up your energy for the ball,” he said.

You looked around at your surroundings. It was an empty stone room with no doors and a large chandelier in the ceiling. “Where are we?”

He waved his hand at the wall closest to you and a wooden door appeared. “This is the room of requirement,” he said. “It is a room that only appears when you are in great need of it, and it also becomes the room that you need.”

You raised your brows as you passed through the door with him into the empty hall. The door disappeared as if the room was not there. You touched the stone and knocked on it, but it was just a continuous wall. “Just when I thought this place had finished amazing me,” you said.

“Hogwarts will never cease to amaze, love,” Professor Laufeyson said. He stopped when you got to the stairs. “Now, I bid you farewell until the ball. Be sure to get into heaps of trouble,” he said, smirking.

“Oh, I will,” you said with a wide smile. The butterflies flowed freely through your body and you felt electrified. Suddenly, the ball had gotten much more exciting and you could not wait for Wednesday night.

You ran down the corridor, back to the main level, where several students ran past you. The smell of food wafted through the halls and your stomach grumbled more, so you picked up the pace. Another scent caught your nose, and you wondered what it was, since it definitely was not food. As you walked, you realized that the floor was covered in water. Puzzled, you entered the main corridor which led to the Great Hall and found a large crowd of students standing there.

You spotted Valkyrie ahead of you, so you pushed your way through several students, mumbling an apology, and tapped her shoulder. She looked at you grimly and gestured to the wall with her eyes. When your gaze followed, you stepped back with a hand to your chest. There was a message on the wall, written in blood. The nauseating scent of iron was thick in the air. The message wrote:

The beast has awakened...Enemies of the heir, beware...

[leghorn]

Strange days, friends. The world spins dizzily on its tilted axis, and nothing is the same even as it was a week ago. Seeds are flying off of our shelves, and even The Internet, that vast and ceaseless web of commerce, has run out of basic necessities or restricted their purchase. Seed companies are sold out of many popular varieties, and still, the orders keep coming in, as though a thing as simple and precious as a seed could be simply willed into existence. We are ordering three times as many vegetable starts as usual for this time of year, and despite the difficulties of taking orders over email and voice messages, the young plants are flying out the door. Will, there be enough tomato starts left by the time night temperatures are settled above 50 degrees, which is really the proper time to be planting summer crops around here? We hope so. Chickens, too, are suddenly more popular than ever. Do most of us even know what to do with those bags and bags of dry beans we have hoarded? How long it takes to raise a hen from an egg? We are all about to find out.

Let us take a breath. A deep one. And then another.

It is understandable to be afraid in these times, to be cautious, to be anxious. The sudden steep increase in sales of seeds and vegetables and chickens and dry beans is asking us to look at something difficult and real, and those deep breaths are going to help us face it, and move into it, as bravely and as wisely as we can.

Just one more breath, maybe. In recognition of the fact that something as basic and unconscious as breathing is also vitally important. Though many of these purchases may have been made in fear, let us imagine what that fear might be transformed into. Though this virus is brutal, it has much to teach us.

Sow the seeds, yes. Not for a single season, as something to do while you are in lockdown. Sow them as though the seeds themselves were gifts from the plant kingdom, evidence of a relationship that has been tended to as long as we have been human. Sow them knowing that nature is fickle and generous. We are not owed, but are given, this opportunity. What will you grow?

Plant a garden, do. Learn from it and let it teach you. It takes skill and patience and time and weather and luck to grow food. You have to water it regularly and pull the weeds that steal nutrition from the crops. Some of the weeds are medicine and have things to teach us, too. You may not grow enough dry beans to last you a year. But in growing a garden, may you be connected to the earth and to the work of farmers everywhere, who labor all year round for those commodities so easily taken from a grocery store bin. Cultivate appreciation of such a small treasure as an onion, unearthed for your table. You can hold it in your hand, the result of months of growing, buried beneath the soil. Drinking water, creating air, making seeds for the future.

Save some seeds from each year’s garden. The act will nourish and connect you, as surely as eating. If you save the biggest, the best, and the tastiest, you will be creating land races specific to your garden. This is evolution in action. It is the backbone of civilization, a curled embryo, the past, and the future entwined.

Raise chickens! They too need a safe place to sleep at night. Each one will have a unique arrangement of feathers, a warbled cluck, a particular habit. Each bird is an individual. You do not have to venerate them, or sing to them, or refrain from eating them if that is your need. You do not have to cry if you take their life. But true respect means acknowledging that each creature is an individual who wants nothing more than to exist. When we take life, may we do it in recognition of the seriousness of the act. When we consume the flesh of others, may it be done with open eyes, and a grateful heart. Every fragile egg taken from beneath a hen is a piece is a larger puzzle. Of living and dying. Of leaving enough to harvest next year. Of counting our blessings, like eggs still warm from the nest. The yolks are rich and orange when the hens have access to earth, stones, bugs, kitchen scraps. The yolks are pale and yellow when they come from the store. When they stop laying for the winter, as all hens do under natural conditions, where will your eggs come from then? Or will you abstain? Choose wisely, and do not look away.

Stock your pantry, of course! It is wise to prepare for disruptions of all kinds; weather or virus, politics, fires, or earthquakes. But do not take so much that others will have none. The food wants to be eaten. It will do no one any good, to molder forgotten on the shelves, when the immediate panic has passed. Share with those who were less quick to fill their cart. Trade with your neighbors. Reforge connections to those around you, and learn how we can support each other better. It starts with eye contact, or a smile, or a basket on the doorstep. A peace offering. A cardboard box labeled Free, Take Some. A donation to the local food bank. And, dare we say it? It starts with living wages, and access to sick pay, and health care for all people. This need not be a radical concept.

Mourn. For what we have lost, and what we have squandered, and what will never be. Mourn for our elders, whose wisdom is at risk of being lost too soon. Mourn for dreams hamstrung by circumstance. Mourn for your loneliness. How will you heal it? All pain needs first to be felt before it can be healed. The work is worth doing, but damn, it is hard, sometimes. Do it anyway, when you can. It is another way of tending the garden. Sometimes, we have to cut the raspberries back, hard, down even to the ground, before they will bloom to bear fruit again.

Though fear and pain and loss are all valid, it is time to look beyond panic to consider how we want to shape the world. We are being offered a brief moment in time, an anomaly, like a solar eclipse, or a comet blazing with news from space. It is a finite pause and it will not last, but in this brief window, we are offered a gift. What is real is thrown into stark relief, it stands out, it calls us. We are answering the call, by planting gardens, by saving seeds, by raising chicks, by reaching out to support our neighbors. When this is over (it will never be truly over), when we get back to normal (normal is a deviation) we will again be pressed to make more, earn more, consume more, stimulate the economy more, all more more more, and as quickly as possible. This pressure will be presented as inevitable, and even desirable, or patriotic.

This is not the way of a successful garden. Though we amend and tend the soil, infinite growth is not possible. Hens do not lay 365 days a year. Instant gratification is a mindset never satisfied, always groping for the next quick hit of dopamine. In this liminal time, it is worth considering how else we might structure our world, our only home, the earth that sustains us in every way. It is worth holding on to the feeling of possibility rustling in a paper packet of seeds. It is useful to consider how we might live if home were where we wanted to be, right here on this earth. The chickens in the backyard know, and they are scratching the damp soil for what they might find there, beneath the surface. They are taking dust baths and making shallow nests beneath the rose bush. They are pausing, sometimes, not to contemplate their ultimate fate, but to feel the sun beat down, just so, upon their bodies, or to listen to the leaves rustle in the wind. They take a moment to pause. And then they get on with the work.

CONSIDER THE CHICKENS by Jessica Tunis

[jubilantwriter]

A Little Bit of Sweetness in a Bitter World

(They Got the Year Wrong, 2012 was Actually Supposed to be 2020)  (AO3)

Summary:  It’s been the end of the world, so to speak, and time is meaningless, but actions mean everything.  And every action they take must be taken towards their survival.

...So to speak.

But even when surviving in a post-apocalyptic world, they’re allowed to indulge in a little bit of sweetness, right?  David thinks so, at the very least.

Word Count: 4919

////

"You think calendars are still a hot commodity in this day and age?"  Jasper tosses over a damp, wrinkly mess of paper that looks to be the remains of a calendar.  David catches it easily and flips through the pages.  The year proudly states "2021", likely made in the last year before the natural disasters struck all at once.  Each page displays a different picture of nature, with scenes varying from mountains to the ocean to forest and even to jungles.  It's almost ironic, he thinks, these images of peace and tranquility.  

"Probably not.  I don't remember the last time I kept track of the days."   He remembers days where he would eagerly mark off each day, always happy to welcome the next with a smile.  Each date was important.  Each day was worth remembering.   Now, he's just happy to wake up and still find Jasper laying next to him.  

But those are only on the good days.

"I was thinking..."  Jasper trails off, wandering the shelves of the long abandoned store.  "You think we missed out on a bunch of holidays?"

"Probably."  David lets out a hum as he places the calendar down on an empty shelf and examines the remaining oddities left behind by scavengers.  "It's been cold for a while, so we probably missed Christmas."

"And New Years.  Davey, look!"  Jasper grabs his attention to hold up a chipped mug.  Between the spaces of the empty shelves, David can't help the chuckle that escapes him when he reads the words.  "Coffee Helps Me Poop."  The brunet sighs languidly as he looks over the mug with a look of nostalgia.  "God, I miss coffee."

"Maybe we'll find a bag of beans somewhere in one of those houses."  Though they both know his words are more of an empty comfort than ones of hope.  Still, Jasper brightens at the idea of it, and it's enough to make David smile.

"Yeah, maybe.  Oh, but I could make due with leftover grinds."

"Gross."

"Hey man, beggars can't be choosers, and we can always just give them a good wash in the river!"

"No!"  Despite his protests, David laughs anyways.  "I'm sure we can find a bag of something for you.  I think we can try that um, dandelion coffee?"

"Gross."  This time Jasper's the one pulling a face.  "That stuff's made of dandelion roots!  Fucking gnarly as hell, man."

"Beggars can't be choosers," he teases lightly.  "And anyways, dandelions are everywhere!  I'm sure we can roast some roots and make something good."

"If you make it for me, I guess I have no choice."  Jasper sighs dramatically as he puts the mug down.  With a giggle, David leaves his spot by the empty shelves and rejoins him.  Jasper leans over to kiss his cheek, lips pressing gently over now familiar scars.  A warm smile crosses his features as he cups Jasper's cheek.

"So I guess this place was no good either, huh?"

"Nah."  Jasper shrugs and leans into David's touch.  "But it's not like we're surprised."  

Which is true.  The two of them happened upon this empty town much like someone else before them.  The houses were already looted, stores emptied, and bodies either half buried or left to rot.  They'd taken care of the few that were left forgotten, placing plucked dandelions on the makeshift mounds in remembrance.  David always found it sad how there were so many bodies still left over from the disasters.  So many lives, so many stories left to rot in the open air as survivors walked over them without a second thought.

He remembers the early days, when he and Jasper had no choice but to loot the bodies as well.  It was sickening, but they had to survive.  He remembers when they walked over bodies, leaving them to rot in the open air, never daring to spare another glance in fear of getting sick.

Now they never get sick.  The sight of bodies no longer made them terrified of their own mortality, but rather, they now placed it upon themselves to treat these lost lives with more respect as they continue to tread this ground alone and alive together.  It's the least they can do.  

"Hey, man."  Jasper's soft voice breaks his thoughts, and David blinks back to the present.  "Let's say we try a few more places before bouncing, yeah?"

"...Yeah."  David pulls his hand away just to take Jasper's instead.  "Sounds like a good plan."

The two of them leave the store and walk down the strip.  Broken windows and doors hanging from a hinge are passed by with an ease they've grown accustomed to, allowing a lingering glance to see what the stores used to promise to sell.  Clothes, shoes, things that would have been useful had they stumbled upon this strip mall months in advance.  Now all that remain are empty shelves and splashes of blood that neither want to entertain wondering about.  They continue past more empty stores, still glancing inside in hopes of finding something accidentally left behind.  Instead, they stumble upon a novelty store, similar to the one that used to house calendars.  Jasper jabs his thumb at it.

"Wanna give it a shot?"

"Sure."  

They're not sure what they're looking for in a novelty store.  The knick knacks they once sold are either broken or long gone.  David lets go of Jasper's hand to continue perusing the shelves.  A few toys are scattered here and there in pieces, perhaps stepped on in a mad rush to find things of use, otherwise ignored in pursuit of other items.  There was probably someone out there who would have liked these toys.  

...And maybe, not anymore.  He leans down and picks up a dirtied plushie.  Turning it back and forth in his hands, the thought of children enters his mind, and he quietly stores it into his backpack.  They've come across a child or two in their journeys.  It was always surprising, stumbling across a kid on their lonesome.  They'd always try and offer help, but the children are always much more suspicious of them than they are of the children.

It makes sense, doesn't it?  

The children always ran away before they could do anything to help.  He would always want to chase after them but...

He shakes his head.  That would just scare them away, he knows this.  They've come across settlements where kids still live with their parents in a promised safety, only to have to watch as it goes up in flames (it always goes up in flames, fitting that it's something man made that manages to extinguish the rest of them instead of nature itself) as they either perished or ran off, never to be seen again.

He knows a kid will never accept this gift from him.  He knows it's a stupid thought.  

But.

He'll keep it.  Just in case.

He's sure the dead ones would prefer a plushie over a dandelion anyways.

"Found anything?"  He turns at Jasper's voice, a tired smile on his face.  

"Not really.  Just this stuffed toy."

"Ah."  Jasper doesn't question him, instead bending down and picking up a little car.  "Always liked these little dudes."

"I remember you collected them when they were popular."  David watches as he rolls the wheels against his palm, letting it run in the air before turning it this way and that.

"Hot Wheels will always be popular in my heart."  Jasper's smile turns lighthearted as he pockets it.  David doesn't question it.  "I saw a door to the backroom earlier.  Tried opening it, but it was locked up good."  He pauses for a moment before giving David a look.  "Real good."

David's heart jumps at the implications, as well as sinks.  There's no telling what they will find behind a locked door.  "We'll just have to be careful."

"Right."  Jasper reaches behind him and pulls out his trusty pipe.  "I'll kick it down."

"Okay."  David reaches inside his jacket to pull out his knife.  "I'll keep you covered."

Jasper simply nods as they walk towards the back room's door.  The brunet lifts his leg up and positions it right by the doorknob.  A quick nod to David is followed up with a powerful kick and a curse.  The door remains intact and unbudged with only a boot print to show Jasper’s efforts.

Of course.

"It's metal."  Jasper grumbles as he hops around on his good foot.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, don't sweat it."  With a final hop, he settles down and jostles the handle.  Locked.  "No wonder it's untouched.  No one's been able to open it.  Unless..."  Jasper turns to David with a playful smirk.

"...Unless?"

"Unless we lockpick it open."

"Jasp."  David sighs as he crosses his arms.  "For the last time, we don't know how to do that."

"C'mooon!"  He looks towards David with big, round, pleading eyes.  David turns away to avoid his stare.  "I know you know how.  You were a rebel as a kid!  You got into places no one else could!"

"But that was ages ago!"

"Maybe it's still floatin' around in there!"  Jasper creeps closer to David and nudges him.  "C'mon, please?  At least try?  For wittle ol' me?"

Only a few seconds pass before David lets out a defeated groan.  "...Fine!  But I'd need something to try and unlock it.”

"Jammin'.  What kinda stuff do you need?"

"Paperclips.  Just two."  David kneels down closer to the door to look at the lock.  There's some damage around the keyhole area, but it shouldn't be a problem for him.  "Um, I don't know if there's any stores around here that have some but-"

"Don't sweat it.  I'll go sniff some out for ya."  Jasper's gone in that instant, and that just leaves David alone with this lock and his thoughts.  What could be in there, he wonders?  Supplies?  He looks around the store with its toys and novelty items.  Maybe not.  Probably just products or cleaning supplies.

Maybe a body.

The thought dampens his mood a bit.  But if there truly is a body in there, then it wouldn't hurt for him and Jasper to take it out and lay it to rest.  Just like the other bodies they've come across.  They've been lucky thus far to never have encountered anyone familiar.

But then again...

It wasn't like they originally came from the West Coast.  Both their homes actually lie somewhere in the East, and now that they were still slowly making their way across the States, it'd only be a matter of time before they start recognizing familiar faces.  The thought of it makes his heart sink.

"Found some!"  Jasper pops right over to interrupt his thoughts, and David smiles in relief as his boyfriend kneels down besides him.  If it weren't for Jasper, who knows how many times he'd be lost to his thoughts like this?  

"Thanks."

"Anytime, doll."  He presses another kiss to David's cheek as David giggles.  "So how's this work?"

"Well..."  He takes a paperclip and straightens the whole thing out.  Once it's straight, he bends the pliable metal in half until both sides are flush against the other.  From where the paperclip is bent in half, he takes the end of it and carefully bends it at a right angle.  He then takes the loose ends of the paperclip and twists them together, keeping it whole and stable.  The little L shape he makes out of it is presented to Jasper.  "This is what I'm going to put at the bottom of the lock, right here."  He puts the L shaped paperclip at the bottom of the lock, leaving it hanging as he starts working on the next paperclip.  "This one is gonna be tricky, since it's got smaller uh, details to it."

"Maybe we can try bending it against a shelf or something?"

"Mm, something thinner."

"Hmm."  Jasper looks around before his eyes brighten as he picks up David's discarded knife.  "How's this for thinner?"

"My hero," he teases lightly, kissing Jasper's cheek in thanks.  He takes the next paperclip and only unbends it twice.  Taking the edge of his knife, he carefully bends the very end of it into a W-like shape.  He runs his finger over the shape of it, the W no longer than the tip of his finger.  "This is what I'm gonna use to try and get the lock to unlock."

"Very descriptive."  Jasper nods along as David sets to work with his improvised tools.  

He pushes the W tool in above the L as he holds the bottom tool down, and starts to wiggle the W up and down, jostling it every once in a while until he hears the familiar click.  He turns both tools at the same time successfully and turns to Jasper with a big grin.

"Still got it."

"I knew you did!"  Jasper whoops as he pulls David into a hug.  "I love you so much, my lock picking little nerd!"

"Jasp!"  David laughs as Jasper starts rubbing their cheeks together.  "You know I wasn't a nerd when I learned how to do this."

"Fine."  The brunet rolls his eyes as he hugs David tighter.  "My little bad boy."

"And I'm taller."

"My BIG bad boy."

"Thank you," he says sweetly, rubbing their noses together.  "I do like the sound of that."

"Anything for you, babe."  Jasper chuckles as they both turn their attention back to the unlocked door.  "What do you think is behind there?"

"Dunno."  He parts from Jasper a bit unwillingly to pocket the tools and pick up his knife.  "But only one way to find out, right?"

"Right."  Jasper takes out his pipe once more and holds it at the ready, his other hand on the handle as David stands prepared by his side.  "1, 2..."

Three never gets spoken out loud as Jasper slams the door open, barreling in with his pipe raised high above him.  What greets them is...

No one.

"Damn, did all that for nothing, huh?"  He puts his pipe back into its little spot as David keeps his knife out.

"Better it be nothing than someone with a working gun, dear."

"True that."  Jasper takes a gander around the room, noting the modestly sized storage room and the shelving unit that works almost as a divide.  He jabs his thumb at the other side of the unit.  "I'll take that half of the room."

"Then I'll take this half."  They nod towards each other and start their search.

It's been a while since David's seen full shelves of anything.  Or, well, more occupied shelves.  There are boxes scattered here and there, mostly of the same things that linger outside still.  He takes a few more stuffed animals, storing them in his pack for a later burial.  As he searches through another box, he blinks at his odd little discovery.  Digging out from under the rest of the merchandise, he chuckles to himself as he holds up a little gimmicky keychain.

A little heart-shaped character is holding a card that reads, "My heart belongs to you!" in cheesy cursive.  The strap looks like the usual beady sort that can easily snap off.  David digs around some more, hoping to find others.  Jasper used to love these things when they were kids, opting to spend quarters trying to get quirky little keychains of popular cartoon characters rather than something sensible, like a gumball or candy.  David quickly finds another one wrapped in plastic packaging and swiftly removes it.  This one is apple shaped, but the face and posture are exactly the same.  The words for this one read instead, "You're the apple of my eye!" in the same cheesy cursive.  He's about to search for more when he hears an excited gasp coming from Jasper.

"What did you find?"

"No-don't-come-over-here!"  Normally, words like that coming from Jasper would alarm him, but he could recognize that giddy tone anywhere.

"You sure?"

"Yes!"  

David smiles as he pockets the matching keychains.  "Alright.  Call out if you need me for anything."

"You got it, dudeski." 

David returns to searching through more boxes and finds nothing particularly useful in any of them.  There's some loose paper clips that he finds however, and he decides that taking those won't be such a bad idea.  He looks around the shelves and finds a screwdriver lying forgotten on one of the shelves.  He takes that as well, noting the shape of the head.  

Flat.

He never could find one of these back in the day.  They were surprisingly easy to misplace when he really needed one.  

More searching yields less results, although he does find something even more delightful than the matching keychains.  After a bit of fiddling, he quickly stuffs it into his pack before Jasper can even notice and takes a quick lookover his half of the room.  

All the boxes have been searched, and nothing of use was left behind.  He's tempted to peek his head over to Jasper's side, but he knows better than to spoil a surprise that Jasper has planned.  Instead, he calls out, "You finished yet?"

"Yeah, just about."  There's some grunting and thumping as Jasper puts something aside.  "Couldn't find anything useful except for some rubber bands.  And- oh!"  There's some more scuffling as Jasper makes a pleased sound.  "Holy shit, dude- come over here!"

David makes his way over and finds Jasper holding up a white box with a red plus sign on it.  Quickly, he rushes over and holds it as well.  "...No way."

"I'm gonna open it."  Jasper grins as he undoes the clasps.  "It's been a goddamn while since we came across one of these guys!" 

"In pristine condition too," David mumbles as the top pops off.  Inside are bunches of unused band-aids, gauze, alcohol wipes, little packets of various ointments, painkillers-

"Jackpot!  Literally the jackpot!"  They set the first-aid kit down gently as they go through the supplies.  "There's even some peroxide in here, holy shit-"

"These pills haven't expired yet either."   

"All good things come in first-aid kits."  They carefully pack everything back up into the kit and store it in Jasper's pack.  "We can sort things out once we get back to the campsite."

"Agreed."  They both stand up and take another gander around the room.  Though the back room didn't hold much, it did hold a few things they could make use of.  Jasper flashes David a smile and holds out his hand.  

"Ready to boogie?"

David laughs as he takes Jasper's hand.  "I couldn't have phrased it better myself."  

The two of them exit the store, shielding their eyes as the sun reflects off the melting snow around them.  Jasper sighs as they look around the abandoned strip mall once more.  

"Sucks none of them had any food."

"I'm not really surprised.  But there were a couple of granola bars."  

Jasper flinches.  "Yeah, but the Nature Valley kind.  I bet those fuckers got left behind for a reason, Davey."

David flashes him an innocent grin.  "Beggars can't be choosers!"

"And soon we'll be beggars without any working teeth.  And not a dentist in sight!"

"We'll be fine.  You ate a bathtub twinkie before."

"Yeah, but at least it was soft."  They begin to walk off the path, snow crunching under their boots as they walk across the roads littered with abandoned cars.  Some look broken into, others burnt from explosions or fires that could have resulted right at the start of the panic, or perhaps even after.  A breeze brushes past them, taking a loose flyer along with it.  They cross more roads and streets, ignoring the stretch of houses that loom in the distance before them and opting for the bordering forest instead.  A familiar clearing opens up to them as they look around carefully to make sure no one else has stumbled across it.  David looks about for tracks that aren't their own in the snow.

Nothing. 

Jasper makes a noise to indicate that they're both safe, and together, they start setting up their camp.  An old tent is pitched carefully, now so thoroughly used and battered that David fears he may need to find or scavenge a replacement somewhere.  Jasper goes about gathering what branches and kindling he can.  "Hey Davey," he calls out, out of sight but still a quick jog away.  "You think I can punch this tree to pieces for firewood?"

"We've had this discussion so many times before- no.  And you've already tried doing that, remember?"  

"Bummer."  Still, David waits and hears the familiar sound of a thump and a resounding, "Ow!" before shaking his head and getting the campfire set up for Jasper.  By the time Jasper returns to the site, David's already begun going though his pack and taking out what little food they have.  He picks up a can of beans and sighs.  It would be nice if they could stumble upon some wild vegetables right about now, but alas, maybe it was still too early to hope for such miracles.  Well, they can share this can of beans for dinner tonight.  Maybe they'll have better luck finding more food tomorrow.

"Guess who bears gifts of warmth!"  For now, however, worrying over their food rations can wait.  David smiles up at his boyfriend and watches as he dumps his whole collection of wood onto the makeshift campfire.

"You do!"

"Damn straight."  Jasper plops down next to him and starts rearranging the wood to a more suitable placement, taking out their old flint and broken knife to get the fire going.  They sit in silence as the sparks catch on the driest wood that Jasper could find, and as they warm up, Jasper makes a thoughtful hum.  "Wonder what today is."

"A cold day," David answers, huddling closer to Jasper as the brunet chuckles.  Jasper wraps an arm around him and draws the ginger in close.

"Nah, I meant date wise."

"The calendar got you thinking?"  Flashes of those peaceful, serene shots of nature echo in his mind, and David wonders how many of those places are still intact.  Are still as serene as they once were before.

The woods are as quiet as they've ever been for the past months or so.  He closes his eyes, remembering the nights in which he could hear the crickets singing their songs, when there were things to worry about in the woods, when he could go to bed and hear the call of the coyotes, when there was life in all the houses, and the most he had to worry about was what he needed to prepare for dinner the next day.

"A little bit."  Jasper leans against him, no doubt lost in his own head as well.  "I was just thinking, y'know, if time is meaningless and so are dates then technically... any day can be a holiday."

"What are you saying?"  

Instead of an answer, Jasper leans over to his pack and starts digging through it.  He grins as he finds what he's looking for, and pulls out an old box of chocolates.  "Tadaaaah!"

"...How old are these?"

"Dunno, dude."  Jasper drops the chocolates on his lap before pulling out a card or three.  The first one features an old fisherman comedically fishing up a big, red heart, with the words on it reading, "You're quite the catch, Valentine!"  With a soft smile, David opens the card to find the inner message reading, "As the kids would say, you're off the hook!"  David laughs as he reads those words.  The next two cards read just as cheesy, he finds.

A card with a puppy dog with huge eyes stares at him with a message reading, "Cute puppies aren't the only things melting hearts this year..."  Opening it, he finds a message that reads, "The icebergs are melting too!  Oh, and you melt my heart as well, Valentine :)"  He can't help but sigh at that message.  Oddly on point, that one.

The last card is more beautifully crafted, with roses adorning the page and a cursive font decorating the front of it.  "Dozens of roses cannot compare to the beauty of our love."  David opens it up to find two messages written in, one typed in the same font as the cover, and one scrawled in haphazardly with what looks to be a pen that gave out more than once.  The card’s message reads: "Here's to another year with you, my dear love."

His eyes drift down to the handwritten one, a handwriting so familiar to him that he’s surprised how little he’s seen of it lately.  "Heya Davey,” it starts out, “I know these past months or so have been super wack, but I'm grateful that you've been here with me this entire time.  I don't know what the future holds for us or the world, but as long as I'm with you, I think I can bite through whatever curveballs the world throws at us.  Thanks for always being off the heezy and super fly.  With all my love, Jasper."

David wipes a tear away before turning to give Jasper a kiss.  They melt into each other, arms wrapped tight as though the fear of a breeze tearing them apart is more life-threatening than the danger they walk through every day.  Pulling apart is difficult when all David wants to do is kiss Jasper again and feel him against him.  But then, he'd never get to see those blue eyes stare at him lovingly, now would he?

"Happy Valentine's Day, Davey."  Jasper speaks softly as he gently brushes David's tears away with a smile.  "I know it ain't much but, it was all I could find in that store."

"No, Jasp, this is all- this is wonderful.  I love all of this."  David hugs the cards to his chest and laughs, before remembering his own gifts.  "Oh!  Hold on a minute."  David pulls out the two keychains and hands them to Jasper.  "They aren't much, but they were all I could find in those boxes."

"Aww, Davey!"  Jasper takes them both and holds them up against the backlight of the setting sun.  "Wouldja look at that - they're matching!"

"Yeah," he responds shyly, kicking at the earth under their feet.  "I-I figured I'd let you choose which one you like the most, and then I can take the other one, and then it's like, even if we're apart for a little bit, we'll still have something that'll keep us together, even if it's spiritually?"

Jasper turns his attention to David, a bright smile on his face as he cups David's cheek with his free hand.  "You big goof, nothing's gonna be able to keep us apart at this rate, huh?"

"You're right- oh!  Before I forget."  David giggles and digs through his bag one last time.  He pulls out a stuffed animal- or rather, a stuffed Pokemon.  To find one of these little guys hiding in the backroom, surely, an employee had meant to keep it for themselves as a gift for their own significant other.  He hopes they didn't mind that he took the cute little Pikachu and added an embellishment of his own.  With the same shyness from before, David presents the plush to Jasper, watching his eyes light up when he catches sight of the fake rose that David had haphazardly affixed to its paw with a stray rubber band he'd found lying around.

"No.  Way."  Jasper takes it from his hands and looks it over.  "...Davey!"

"I found it while we were looking for supplies."  He scratches the back of his head, no doubt the blush already forming on his cheeks is getting redder as Jasper stares at him with his big, round eyes tearing up like that.  "And I know how much you still love Pokemon to this day, so I thought maybe you'd like this too?  A-and I figured I'd make it, you know!  A little more personal with the um, with that rose I found."  Technically, he'd torn it off a different stuffed animal, but Jasper didn't need to know that.

"I love it," Jasper whispers, already cuddling it close to his chest.  "Fuck, I love you so much, Davey."  

"I love you too, Jasp."  

Jasper quickly plants another kiss on David, pulling a part just for a moment to press another, more lingering one on his lips.  By the time the two of them part again, they sit together breathless, a warmth spreading from their chest as they cuddle close together.

“Hey,” Jasper speaks softly, taking the chocolates in one hand while keeping his arm wrapped around his little stuffed toy.  “Let’s say we eat this for dinner instead?  I don’t think chocolate can go bad that quickly.”

There’s nutrition to take into account in a survival situation, David thinks.  But his fingers move anyways, tugging the plastic cling wrap off as they open the little box of delights open.  They can worry about nutrition later.  It’s not like they were looking forward to another night of beans anyways.

It’s an indulgence, but one they so rightly deserve.

For that moment, the two of them simply bask in the light of their love, happily going over their gifts and idly talking to each other over the light of the campfire.  Even if it was for a moment, for once, the woods felt alive again with the noise of the chatter.

And in that moment, it felt as though everything was alright in the world. 

[somevirtualnolife]

How To Date a Boy, 101 (Part 1)

1331 words

Also on Ao3

Rating: G

Series: Tokimeki Memorial: Girls Side 2nd Kiss

Pairing: Daisy (OC) x Saeki Teru

Summary: Mizuki has caught feelings for Saeki Teru. But how can she tell if he feels the same way? Guess there's only one way to find out: by taking the advice of your best friend and reading the best lifestyle magazine in Habataki.

Author’s Note: Yes... I have come back from the dead to write some TMGS fics! With GS4 coming out and replaying GS2, the creative juices have been a-flowing. Other than the many cute boys in the game, I have a soft spot for female friendships and always wished you could talk about your crush and do silly friend things in GS2 (I'm glad that it feels more like that in GS3), so I figured it was a great way to open the story. I wanted to capture how Mizuki is really just an insecure teenage girl, with very little experience in love. So while there isn't any Saeki in this chapter, I hope you can still appreciate the build-up!

I hope you look forward to the next chapter!

------------------------

Chapter 1: Love Mode

“You know if you studied consistently rather than the day before the exam, your grades would be much higher. Just because we’re second years doesn’t mean you should be slacking! You’ll gain bad habits.” Chiyomi chided as Mizuki took a small box of Pocky off the shelves of the convenience store and placed it in their basket. A perfect snack for all-night study sessions.

“Ugh, I know. It’s just between work and cheerleading, it doesn’t give me a whole lot of time to hit the books on my own,” Mizuki then put on her sweetest, most pleading smile. “Besides, it’s way more fun to study with an amazing friend like you, Chiyo-chan. Your notes are so concise and perfect, unlike mine.”

Chiyomi pursed her lips and looked. It would take a lot more than that to stop the lilac-haired girl from scolding Mizuki.

“Well, studying should be the most important thing in your life right now! As our teachers say, as it is our job as students is to get good grades. You shouldn’t let other things get in the way.”

Mizuki let out a sigh as they both continued down the aisles. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from the school council member.

“You should maybe consider cutting hours at your job? You said you work at a café, correct?”

Ba-bump. Mizuki could feel her cheeks flush as he picked up a hot can of coffee and stared at it with an unusual amount of intention. A great way to stay awake, but her palette for it has changed since working at Sangosho. Having properly brewed coffee by someone who was passionate about it…

“I’d… rather not.” She let out a sigh before putting it back.

She wasn’t sure if it was the pink in her cheeks or her cryptic answer that gave it away (not as though she was doing a job at hiding either), but Chiyomi suddenly started to stutter.

“Mizuki-chan!” Chiyomi finally blurted out, leaning in closely to Mizuki’s face, as though she needed to confirm what she had just seen. “You like someone, don’t you!?”

“No! I mean… not exactly!” Her eyes darted around as though she were looking for the answer inside the convenience store. Maybe it was the bluntness of the statement that threw the brunette off.

“... It’s complicated!”

“…It’s not Hikami-kun, is it?” Chiyomi stared at her intently, her eyes looking both suspicious, but also worried when she posed the question.

“What? No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you.” If Mizuki was bad at hiding her thoughts about boys, Chiyomi was ten times more obvious about her own. She was well aware of why her friend always invited her out all those times to the amusement park, and it wasn’t for the view from the top of the Ferris Wheel. In all honesty, Mizuki thought Chiyomi and Hikami looked cute together. They clearly shared similar interests and got along swimmingly. She couldn’t say the same for herself and her crush.

Chiyomi seemed relieved by that answer, yet still not entirely satisfied it seemed as she still stared intently. Mizuki wasn’t entirely sure how she could answer… for if the entire truth came out, it could cause quite the scandal at school. Saeki Teru going out with a girl that wasn’t one of his fans…

Ugh! What was she even saying!?

Did she like Saeki?

Sure, she had to admit, ever since that time at the fireworks festival, she did feel… different about him. The coffee prince was still a pain in her side, but she also wanted to be around him a lot more. She used to ask him to hang out without a second thought, but that’s because they were friends, like Chiyomi, Shouta, or Tatsuko. Now, anytime she called him to go out, she could feel her heartbeat a million times a second, terrified he might say no. Yes, she and Saeki were friends.

But would it be so bad if they could be something more? He was handsome and charismatic… even kind in his own way. Sure, he teased her, but she could also count dozens of times that he’s helped her out, whether it was teaching her about the different types of coffee beans, or protecting her from random men when they went out together. She could see why he had his own fan club. And when he smiled…

Oh boy. She did like him, didn’t she?

“It’s a guy that I work with at the café,” Mizuki finally answered. Not a lie, but just omitting a few key points. Who knew if there was one of Saeki’s groupies in here. “But I don’t even really know if he really feels the same way! He’s kind of hard to read at times and I’d hate to ruin what we have.” Though she liked to believe that he was fairly honest and upfront with her, it wasn’t unlike him to put on a façade in front of others.

“Hmmm… I do understand this issue,” Chiyomi crossed her arms and nodded, showing concern.

If Mizuki just had a way to figure out if Saeki in a way that didn’t make these weird between them, then maybe it wouldn’t be so scary.

The two girls then found themselves upon the magazine stands. Among the various manga and gravure magazines were of course several lifestyle magazines aimed at young women. Well, when in doubt, consult the experts, right?

Mizuki picked up one with a pure white cover, featuring very professional and very beautiful working women on the front cover. Real Woman Magazine: Two Sure Fire Ways to Find Out If Someone Likes You Pg. 36!

She quickly flipped to the page and scanned the page with her dark-brown eyes.

Tip 1: Ask them if they like you.

Tip 2: Tell them how you feel about them.

Being direct and honest is the most important thing in establishing a good relationship and-

“What kind of garbage advice is this?” Mizuki huffed, tossing it back on the rack. Honest? Direct?

No. Absolutely not. She would rather choose a life of solitude than be the first one to admit her feelings. What if he said no? What if he laughed in her face? No! Mizuki didn’t admit her romantic feelings, she did like any good teenager would: buried them underneath a mountain of snide, sarcastic comments, and hoped that the other person was smart enough to pick up on that! Was that really so hard to understand? Stupid lifestyle magazines.

“Oh, here’s one!” Chiyomi motioned for the brunette to come closer to her. “Look at this special love edition of Habataki Watcher! What to wear and 9 other ways to get your crush to notice and confess to you on page 22!”

Mizuki gasped. Unfortunately, the magazine was bound, meaning they couldn’t open it up in the store, but it wasn’t that much more expensive. She had to know. Habataki Watcher had yet to steer her wrong yet. Himeko’s columns were always spot on. Like they were written specifically for her, but maybe that was just a coincidence.

“Ah, but… this is totally not studying material! Sorry to sidetrack us,”

“Mizuki-chan.” Chiyomi placed the magazine in their basket and then clasped her hands around Mizuki’s. “This is studying. Studying for love!”

“Chiyo-chan…!!!” she could feel her eyes start to tear up. That was truly the cheesiest thing she had ever heard in her life, but seeing Chiyomi was supporting her, how could she not feel touched?

The two then raced to the cashier and quickly paid for their things. Mizuki suddenly felt a boost of confidence. She had the perfect magazine and the support of her friend. Maybe this was all that she needed to help her after all this time. A smirk appeared on her face as the doors of the convenience store automatically opened.

Saeki Teru, you’d better watch out, because Mizuki Shirogawa is about to capture your heart!