#i know this isn't your cuppa tea exactly

[miintsprigz]

Hi again!! Was wonderin if ya could do some hcs of Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engi, and Medic with a reader who loves to give and show them drawings they made, but gets pretty nervous when they watch them draw? If this isn't exactly yer cuppa tea or you just genuinely do not know how to write this, feel free to just ignore this request:]

Hope you have an excellent day/night/evening/afternoon/noon!!>:DD

Ah, I think I recognize you there! Good to hear from you again. I’ll give it a shot!

GN! Shy Artist Reader x Mercs

Characters: Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engineer, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: None

Scout ⚾️

• The two of you tend to draw while you hang out, just chatting in the meantime.

• He absolutely adored your work, and loved watching you make it.

• But when you pulled your sketchbook to your chest quick, he seemed confused.

• “Hey! You good?” “Yeah, I uh…I just feel weird when you’re watching me draw.” “Huh? You don’t gotta feel embarrassed, doll!”

• “…You know when you tried to pull off a jump while Spy and Demo were watching the other day…” At this reminder, Scout gave you a teasing scowl—not genuinely mad, just embarrassed remembering that.

• “Ah geez—yeah, if they hadn’t spooked me by starin’ at me like a buncha creeps—oh.” “You get it now?”

• He got…a little confused. “Am I makin’ it worse? Aw man, I’m sorry—” “No, no! I just—that awkwardness? Yeah.” “Ohhh, I think I gotcha…”

•Scout, uh, scooted over on the bed a little and eventually sat back down with his back against yours. “There. This’ll fix it!” Both of you erupted into laughter.

•In all seriousness though, he respected your wishes. He keeps everything you make for him in his room, aside from a small doodle or two that he carries on him to work at all times…awww.

Pyro 🔥

•You and Pyro lay sprawled on the floor, with a can of colored pencils and a box of crayons respectively.

•They’re actually quite good when it comes to color, pairing different hues together. It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re drawing, but sometimes you can faintly make it out.

•You suddenly felt eyes very intently locked onto you and jerked your head up.

• “Hm??”, came through the mask, muffled. “Uh…could you um…”

•They did that curious little head tilt, tenderly reaching for your hand. If you needed to tell them something, they wanted to make sure they heard it!

• “I feel nervous when you watch me draw. I know it’s silly, but—” “Ah!” Genuine surprise from the masked figure. They’d had no idea.

•Immediately, there were muffled apologies from under the mask, quickly hugging you. “Hey hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I just figured I should tell you. You’re okay, Py.”

• “Mmph?” “Yes, dear. I promise.” Giggling a little now, they pulled their free hand over the eyeholes of the mask like a visor, blocking you from view. You chuckled along with them.

•Later on, as the two of you shared drawings, you made out a familiar visage—that of you, with a couple bright red hearts drawn nearby. “Hehe, I love you too.”

Sniper 🏹

• Mick didn’t often watch you draw, honestly. The two of you tended to do your own thing in the same space, talking occasionally. Even that was enough.

• Once you caught him watching on what was kind of an off day though. You kind of just stared back up at him.

• Sniper cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d ya stop?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked off to the side.

• You felt the bed next to you sink down a little as he moved closer. “Hey. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?” His voice was softer, more cautious. “…cuz ya know, I’d like to hear that.”

• Shuffling a bit to get more comfortable next to him, you sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…I feel weird when people watch me draw.” “Yeah?”

• You nodded. “Kinda see what ya mean, I guess. Ya think they’ll judge the work-in-progress?” You silently agreed.

• A slight smile brightened his features. “Well, dunno if it helps, but I know a lil better, love.” His shoulder brushed against yours as you moved a bit closer.

• “I love everythin’ you make. And I know that you know what yer doin. But…if you’re more comfortable with me not lookin’, I get that too. That’s fine.”

• He went to move away, but you quickly clasped his shoulder softly, indicating that he could stay. “Maybe, I could try to keep going?” A laugh broke through as you admitted, “Besides, I like sitting next to you.”

• Humming contently, the Aussie planted the briefest of kisses on the top of your head. “Arright, darlin. You just lemme know.”

• As you kept working on that page, you did notice when he was watching, and it wasn’t easy, but after that he would have periods of staring off into space instead.

• There was a conciseness to it. He’d taken what you’d said to heart. Still, though, he seemed happy…and you were, too.

Engineer 🔧

• Dell had gathered quite a collection of your art by now, kept it on the wall of his workshop. He showed it off proudly to anyone who happened to enter, even if visitors tended to be few and far between.

• One night, you kept him company as he worked overtime on a new design for a model. While he worked, you did too.

• After a while though, you could tell someone was looking at you. As your gaze lifted, you caught him sneaking a peek from his desk, right next to the table where you sat.

• “Aw, did I break yer focus there? Sorry, honey.” “No no, it’s okay, Engie…I could put it away for now anyway, if you want something—”

• “No problem, (Y/N)! You can keep right on with that if ya like.” A somewhat sheepish smile came to your face.

“Hey, Engie…can you keep a secret?”

• “Mmm?” “…I get sorta nervous when people watch me draw.” A knowing sort of smile slowly crossed the Texan’s face, sliding his goggles up to rest on his forehead for a moment.

• “You wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

A nostalgic sort of thoughtfulness crept into his voice. “I used ta be the same way.”

• “Really?” You never pictured the mellow, easygoing Engineer to ever be self-conscious in that way.

“Yup.”

• “People would ask me all sorts a’ questions while they watched me build. ‘How ya gonna make that work?’ ‘What’s that do?’ ‘Why’d ya put that there?’ Drove me crazy. Part of the reason I got a shop, I s’pose.”

• He held a spare nut and bolt, twisting them together and apart as he talked, somewhat absentmindedly. Eyes wandering a bit, but always making their way back to you.

• “But here’s somethin’ I think you oughta hear, although I’d never try ta make ya change. Your work is yours, darlin’. Yours and yours alone. Ya make such beautiful things. I’m not askin’ myself what you’re doin’ when I watch, cuz I already know.”

• He put the fidget aside and reached for your hand with a sweet smile. “Why do you like to watch me work?”

• You could feel your face redden just a bit, and grinned at the floor for a moment. He chuckled at this, in a lighthearted way though. “Cuz it’s really cool how you make everything work, and how smart you are with your designs.”

• “Yep. That’s why I like watchin’ you work. Own the process, (Y/N). It’s all yours. You know exactly what you’re doin.”

• “Thanks, Dell.” “Of course, honey. Of course.” From that moment onward, it seemed like he tried not to watch for too long, but when he did, you remembered his words. And it didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking then.

Medic 💉

• Medic absolutely loved to watch you draw. It was fascinating to him. Seeing how giddy he got, it took you a while to work up the guts to tell him.

• “Is something wrong, Liebe? You’ve been stopped for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh…Medic, I wanna tell you something, but it’s weird.”

“Oh?”

• “I uh…I feel kinda…nervous, I guess? When people watch me draw.”

“…might I ask why?” He seems genuinely perplexed by this. “I think it’s fascinating.”

• Yeah, yeah he would. You weren’t sure how to explain this to him—you knew for sure that he didn’t mind when people watched him at work, he operated on fully conscious people!

• You sighed softly, unsure of how to make this make sense to him. A hand rested on your shoulder for a moment. “(Y/N), I can see this means a lot to you. And as much as I love watching you at work…I love you even more. So I’ll stop doing that.”

A smile crept up on you, glancing back up at him.

“I appreciate it a lot, love. Sorry I can’t put it into words.”

“No need to be sorry! But…I do have one request.”

“Yeah?”

• A sheepish sort of smile came to the doctor’s face. “I can…still see the finished product, right? And maybe, instead of me watching, you could tell me how you put everything together?”

“Of course! No problem.”

“Ah, wunderbar!”

I’ve been very tired lately so I’m sorry this took me so long, and that it’s sorta short/repetitive. I appreciate your patience!

#tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 pyro #pyro tf2 #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 sniper #sniper x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 engineer #engineer tf2 #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #tf2 medic x reader

[landwriter]

The tiny emissary is everything to me

Her death causes minimal interruption to her goings on. It’s peaceful and in her sleep and she waves death off with a flick of her tail and continues to trot along in front of dream

When the appointment comes, and it does, for Death had been honest when she told her brother she wouldn't make another exception for him, the cat is sleeping. It is a grey afternoon in November, and the first snow of the season, arriving strange and early, has just started to fall.

She has, Death knows, through regular coffees with Hob and occasional walks with Dream, lived a long and fulsome life. There is no fairness in her function, but if there was, she thinks it would be the life that such a beloved cat deserved.

As a rule, most creatures are less afraid than humans are to walk with her to the Sunless Lands. They have not worked so much to forget her existence.

So she expects the lack of reaction, when she greets The Cat with a warm smile.

The little black ball of fur, though now streaked a bit with white too, unfurls herself from her body in this world, and stretches, yawning wide as a lion. She licks a paw and looks at Death, unsurprised.

"Hello, little one," says Death. "It's time."

She adds, because she can't help herself, and because it's true, "You brought my brother and his husband a great deal of happiness, you know."

The Cat blinks at her, and Death feels a little silly. She obviously knows, of course. Death recalls all the stories she's heard of her, and instead offers, "Have you heard of the Sunless Lands? They're a fine place to explore."

She waits for the cat's reply, which is perhaps her mistake, because cats are far less inclined to follow those who would wait for them. Or perhaps, she thinks, what happens next would have happened anyways, the reaction she did not foresee:

The little black cat flicks her tail and walks away.

Death trails behind her as she makes a circuit of her former home, hopping up onto every windowsill to admire each view one last time, visiting each of her favourite spots to nap, sniffing a bit at a bowl of kibble she is no longer quite corporeal enough to eat. When they return to the living room, to the couch where she's still curled up, Death thinks she's ready.

"Shall we?" she asks.

The cat blinks.

Then Hob comes in, elbowing through the door with arms full of groceries, already talking. "I've got you tuna, my dear, don't tell-" and then sees Death and brightly says, "Oh, hello."

Then he looks past her and sees only one cat, the one curled still on the paisley couch, not the one twining around his legs in happy greeting, and says, "Oh."

"I'm sorry," says Death. She wishes he hadn't come home to this.

"No," says Hob, although his hands are trembling a little as he sets the groceries down on the counter, "Please don't be, it's only your job. We've had a good run. Almost two decades," he says, and smiles a little wetly. "Just about, anyways. Long life for a cat."

"But it must seem awfully short to you, Hob," she says.

"Yes. It does," he says and swallows. "Is she already-?"

"We were just leaving," says Death. The Cat looks up briefly from her circles around Hob's legs, and then goes back to ignoring her.

Hob squares his shoulders a bit and smiles, truly warmly this time, and Death sees again, so clearly, how this is the man for her brother.

"Well," he says, "I know you're busy, but would you like a cuppa before you go?"

So Death finds herself sitting in her little brother's kitchen, sipping herbal tea and talking to his kind husband about all this unseasonable snow, lovely though, isn't it, this is exactly why they moved out of the city. Hob is not looking in the direction of the living room. The Cat is, in any case, actually sitting on his lap and staring very at smugly at Death.

When their tea is done, and Hob reluctantly stands to do the washing up, she leaps down to stalk toward the front door, and Death is about to try and whisper to her that they actually do, really, need to go, that it will hurt her to keep staying, the front door opens again.

Dream is not a human. He sees her there, and crouches at once to greet her, murmuring endearments in, Death thinks, Akkadian. Something about a dark queen of the night. Something about a million slain enemies and sharp silver claws.

Hob is still holding a violently floral tea towel and drying a mug when he turns around, confused, and understands at once.

"She's still-" he starts.

"Yes," says Death, at the same time Dream says, "Yes," and glares at her. She thinks as far as jurisdiction goes, this is rather hers, but then again, Dream is Hob's husband, and they're in his kitchen.

Hob looks over to the approximate spot where The Cat is receiving incorporeal but no less satisfying scratches from Dream.

"Well, goodbye, my sweet one," he says. "Thanks for trusting me. Thanks for letting me be your friend."

He looks at Dream, then, as if he expects him to say something too.

Death looks at her little brother as well, who seems not nearly as upset as she would've guessed. He unfolds himself and stands, then opens the door again.

The Cat walks out, like she was waiting to be let out this whole time, leaving no paw prints behind her in the fresh-fallen snow.

Dream crosses the room and touches Hob's face. It is so tender that Death almost looks away. "Hob, you need not to say goodbye. She is not going to the Sunless Lands. She is going with me. To the Dreaming."

"Oh," says Hob softly, and then kisses him, and Death does look away then.

Dream never even took his shoes off, she realizes.

Her little brother eventually extracts himself from his husband and nods to Death.

"Sister," he says, with a satisfied little smile.

Then he walks out after The Cat, and neither of them look back.

#dreamling #the sandman #tiny emissary of the night #asks #prompt fill #dream of the endless #death of the endless #hob gadling

[mimisempai]

I want to know all of you

Summary:

Through the taste of his tea, Aziraphale discovers how well Crowley knows him.

Notes

28 days of domestic fluff

Today Prompt : Making tea/coffee just how they like it without needing to ask.

On AO3

Rating G - 885 words

Aziraphale, sitting at his desk in the bookshop, was focused on the store's accounting and frowning.

Crowley, who was watching him, sitting a little farther back in an armchair, asked him inquiringly, "What's the matter, Angel? A problem with your precious bookkeeping?"

Aziraphale looked up, and, shaking his head, replied, "No, no, you can be sure, my dear, that everything is absolutely in order."

Crowley replied with a slightly sarcastic tone, "Of course, it would be unthinkable for you to be wrong in the slightest calculation. What an unforgivable mistake on my part!"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and replied gently, "I forgive you, my dear."

Crowley insisted, "So, if it's not the accounts, what made you frown?"

Aziraphale, showing him his cup of tea, replied, "This. This tea tastes a little strange, almost bland to tell you. This has happened to me several times this week. Yet I use the same tea as usual. I don't understand."

Crowley smiled knowingly and asked simply, "Do you want me to go make you a new cuppa?"

Aziraphale shook his head again, "No, there's no need, don't bother with that. I'm almost done anyway so I'll go make myself another cup later."

Crowley didn't answer and waited for Aziraphale to get back to work. When he was sure that the angel was perfectly focused again, he got up, took the cup and headed to the kitchen in the back.

When he returned, he carefully put the steaming cup down exactly where it had been before and went back to his armchair. All the while, Aziraphale was still concentrating on his accounts and hadn't noticed anything.

Then, without looking at his cup, the angel grabbed it and took a sip of tea. Instead of a frown, this time his lips stretched into a smile of bliss, as he raved, "Hmm... delicious."

Crowley merely said, a small pleased grin on his lips, "Isn't it?"

This brought Aziraphale out of his focus and he realized that first, his tea was hot and second, that it tasted nothing like the one he had made for himself. He took another sip and exclaimed again. "It's really amazing! It's exactly how I like it. The amount of sugar and the intensity of the taste are exquisite."

He looked at Crowley and asked, looking slightly puzzled, "Did you prepare it?"

Crowley chuckled slightly, "Yes, Angel, I did."

Aziraphale looked even more puzzled and stammered, "But... How- How did you do it?"

Crowley squared his shoulders and straightened in his armchair. Unable to hide his proud expression, he replied, "Because I know exactly the recipe for making the tea the way you like it best."

Aziraphale replied, skeptically, "Crowley, my dear, it is not possible that you know the recipe for my tea in the slightest detail, not even I know it."

Crowley patiently replied, "My angel, how long have we known each other? How many times have we shared a cup of tea? You don't really think that after all this time, I wouldn't know the exact recipe for tea as you like it? I know this recipe by heart. Listen to me. First I boil the water, then I pour it into a cup so that it is the perfect temperature. Then I let the leaves infuse for exactly four minutes and twenty-three seconds, no more, no less, and finally, half a teaspoon of sugar that includes exactly 6227 grains.”

Aziraphale interrupted him, "Come on my dear, it's impossible for you to know how many grains of sugar there are in half a teaspoon."

Crowley just shrugged "and yet..."

Aziraphale raised the cup to his face, inhaled deeply and then took another sip. With a delighted expression on his face, he said in an almost amazed tone, "It's really perfect. But..." he hesitated a bit before continuing, "How come you know perfectly how I drink my tea?"

Crowley smiled slightly, stood up and came to lean against Aziraphale's desk. Then, looking down at him, he said softly, "Because, my dear angel, I want to know everything about you, everything that makes you happy. Even if it's something as trivial as the way you drink your tea." 

Then he bent down, and pressed his lips into a light kiss on the angel's stunned expression.

Aziraphale, snapped out of his stupor by the tender gesture, held Crowley by his tie and pulled him closer, pressing his lips to his in a kiss that was much more heated than the previous one.

When they parted to catch their breath, Aziraphale said softly, a look of wonder on his face, "Every time I think I know you, you surprise me with something new!"

Crowley pecked his nose, then straightening up, he went to take his spot back in his armchair. He replied with a slight smile on his lips, "And you've known me for 6000 years already!"

Aziraphale replied in the same tone, "I can't wait to see what the next six thousand years will bring!"

Crowley gestured to the accounting books and cheekily replied, "Then hurry up to get back to work and finish, so I can give you a little insight."

Aziraphale didn't respond and got back to work, the only difference was that now his pen seemed to run much faster over the accounting books.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

[champagneandliterature]

Beautifully Broken

Summary-Remus owns a coffee shop that isn't quite what it seems. Late one night the most beautiful man he's ever seen stumbles in and becomes the only thing that Remus can think about.

Written as a gift for a Trick or Treat Gift Exchange I do have an extensive nearly four-page outline for the rest of this story. I really wanted to leave it open-ended, but alas, I just don't think I can leave this one alone.

Rated T (as of now, if I keep posting it, it will change to E)

It was a typical Thursday night in the coffee shop for Remus. Lily wasn’t due back for another hour or so, and, knowing her, she’d head straight for the potions lab, only coming out to help make Americanos and Macchiatos if they were flooded with muggle patrons. Remus had owned the coffee shop in London for two years now. He’d worked there for nearly a year before Aberforth told him the truth of what was happening behind the scenes. Remus had almost expected it to be a front for drugs, and in a way, it was. Aberforth had an illegal potions lab in the basement of the centuries-old building, the building that had somehow made it through wars without a scratch.

When he had shown it to Remus, he was appalled, thinking the absolute worst of his employer and dealings. But the older man had simply said, “Why did you think I gave you the job, boy? We’re helping them, your kind.” It took Remus almost too long to put it together. The number of dark creatures that lurked in the nearby streets, sometimes stopping in for a cuppa, should have been an indication of what was happening at the shop, but, in his youthful, earnest ignorance, Remus didn’t see that they were hanging about the shop for something other than a coffee or tea. Aberforth had been making wolfsbane, euphoria potion, draught of dreamless sleep, and other pain-relieving and healing potions in the lab and using the tea or coffee as a vessel for them for years before Remus had come to work for him. He should have realized something was going on there when Albus himself had told Remus to take the job when he came of age. 

Remus hadn’t attended Hogwarts due to his “condition.” Being a werewolf wasn’t exactly something he could hide from the other students, regardless of Albus’ intervention with his parents. Still, he did his coursework from home through correspondence and very understanding professors. Once he completed his N.E.W.T.S., he had attended post-secondary courses at Oxford in the magical departments, focusing on Arithmancy and Magical History. When he had finished, he had always thought he’d take up a position at Hogwarts teaching, but, as it turned out, parents didn’t want a registered werewolf teaching their students, which is where Albus’ suggestion of working for Aberforth at the coffee shop came in. Remus decided it was the best move for him as he was deciding whether or not to start work on a muggle doctorate degree. 

Aberforth showed him the ropes of running the shop and, eventually, the lab. A wonderful, beautiful witch named Lily ran the potions lab. She was his age, and he would have been in her year at Hogwarts had he attended. She was brilliant and quick-witted, and the two became fast friends. It was her that he was missing tonight. There had been too many muggle patrons with their ridiculous coffee orders, and he was only now, at ten PM, able to start cleaning up from them, as it was now dead in the shop. The next full moon wasn’t for two weeks which meant most other werewolves were healed from the previous moon and weren’t feeling the effects of the coming full moon yet. Just as his mind had begun to wander into the moon’s phases, he saw the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on stumble through the door. 

He was tall, almost Remus' height of 6'2, with long dark hair curling around the tops of his shoulders. Stormy grey eyes glazed over. And Remus noticed, almost immediately, that he was bleeding. Remus could smell it on him as he walked towards the man who had just barely managed to get himself in the door. 

“Still open?” The dark-haired man croaked.

“For a few minutes,” Remus replied, “Why don’t you sit here,” he gestured towards the booth in the back corner of the shop, reaching towards the man, who flinched when Remus moved. “I’ll lock the door and get you something to sober you up, yeah?” The man snorted but followed Remus’ directions watching Remus lock the door. 

The man sat down, and Remus got to work on an espresso spiked with a little healing potion and sober up mixed in. It wasn’t the first time he had served a muggle a drink with a little something in it to help them. Remus watched the other man the entire time he was fixing his drink. Something didn’t quite sit right about him. Yes, he was dressed like any other posh muggle who lived in the area, but something about his smell wasn’t quite the same. He smelled almost canine, which couldn’t be right, could it? The man wasn’t a werewolf. Remus would have noticed immediately. No, this was something else. He finished making the espresso and walked over to the cozy-looking booth. The dark-haired man was staring off into space as Remus placed his espresso in front of him. 

“Sirius,” the man said, trying to focus and look Remus in the eye. 

“Huh?” Remus replied, a little confused. 

“Sirius, my name. It’s Sirus. You know, like the star?” he slurred.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus blinked a few times, “Well, Sirius, I’m Remus. I own the place.” 

“S’nice to meet you,” Sirius slurred again, a little less as he’d sipped the coffee. 

“Why don’t you have another sip? It’ll make you feel better. I promise,” Remus replied. 

“Nothing will make it better,” Sirius murmured but took a sip of the coffee anyway, humming as he tasted it.  

“That’s got to be the best coffee I’ve ever had.” He replied, finishing the drink. 

“Glad to hear I’m doing a good job,” Remus said, taking the cup from Sirius’ hands and setting it on the saucer. Their fingertips barely brushed. Remus swore that just that tiny slight contact felt like electrical currents on his skin. “I’ll be right back,” Remus said, taking the cup and saucer in his hands entirely and going back behind the counter to make another cup for Sirius. Remus again carefully watched him while he set about tamping the espresso and turning on the drip. Sirius’ split lip was slowly stitching itself back together, and Sirius looked like he was coming around a little. Remus watched the look on Sirius’ face change from not quite sure what was happening, to realizing exactly what was happening. Remus finished the second drink and started to make his way over to Sirius, who was now standing with his wand drawn. 

“What did you give me? What the hell is this place? I won’t hesitate.” Sirius said, pointing his wand at Remus, who now had set the espresso down and had his wand drawn as well. “Listen, it’s not… I wasn’t trying to drug you or anything. I’m just here to help. I just thought you’d want to be sober and heal a little” 

“Don’t even try to tell me what I want. I don’t need your help!” Sirius almost shouted, eyes wild. “I didn’t ask for you to help me.” 

“I know, I just, I thought…” 

“You thought wrong,” Sirius said. “You had no right to do that,” Remus swore Sirius sounded offended. 

“I just wanted to…” Remus didn’t even get the rest of his thought out before he heard the pop of apparition, and Sirius and all his gorgeous, brokenness was gone. 

A week passed and every single time Remus tried to get anything done, he could only think about Sirius. Thoughts about Sirius never left his mind, most of them innocent. Was he ok? Was his lip fully healed? Was he safe? Some were less pure. Was he a dark wizard? Was he involved in something nefarious? What did he look like naked? Remus bet that Sirius was all lean muscle and sinew, and Remus bet his lips would become precisely the perfect shade of pink if they were arou….Remus shook his head. That line of thought had kept Remus up more than a few nights this week. 

Remus was leaning on the counter near the register, staring at the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, “Just go look for him.”

Remus was startled, “Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t. Your mystery man. Just walk out the door and start looking. Maybe he’ll turn up.” Lily said, grabbing the towel off of Remus’ shoulder as she began wiping the counter. Remus raked a hand through his hair, dragging it down his face. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start looking,” he shook his head. 

“Well,” Lily stilled her movement and turned back towards Remus, “you did say that he looked beat up and wasn’t exactly sober,” Remus cringed a bit when she said that. 

“That could literally be the description of just about anyone in London in this neighborhood any day of the week,” Remus replied, a little exasperated. 

“I know it’s not a lot to go on. Did he give you his name?”

“I thought I told you his name?” Remus answered. 

“You really didn’t tell me anything about it. Other than,” Lily lowered her voice in an attempt to mock Remus, “he was the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. His eyes, his hair, he was perfection. It’s like someone went into my brain and took a picture of a dream of mine…blah blah blah. But you gave me absolutely no actual details.”

“I don’t sound like that. I didn’t say all of that,” Remus scowled. 

“You most certainly did. And it was just as disgusting then as it is now. So, give me some details, and maybe we can suss this out.” 

“Well, he’s tall, not as tall as me, longish black hair, the most…” Lily started to roll her eyes, and Remus started again, trying not to be too descriptive, “gray eyes, very sharply dressed. I’m sure his shoes cost more than this entire shop. He, and I swear I told you this, didn’t smell completely human. He had almost a dog smell, not wolf, though.”

“Sounds like a poodle to me,” Lily said, smiling at her friend. Remus ignored her comment and walked around the counter to sit at the nearby table. Lily slid onto the counter itself, swung her legs over, so they dangled over the front, and continued, watching Remus put both elbows on the table and his hands under his chin. 

“I’m just teasing. So what was Snuffles’ name then?”

“Snuffles?” Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I have to call him something until you tell me his real name.” 

“Sirius,” Remus replied. 

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” 

“His name. His name is Sirius.”

Lily’s mouth opened and closed twice before she replied, “you’ve got to be kidding me? What are the odds?”

“What are the odds of what?” Remus asked. 

“You said he was a wizard, right?”

“Yeah. He had to have been.”

“This is just too fucking much,” Lily said as she hopped off the counter and made her way to sit in the chair opposite Remus. “Remus, you know how I said there were a group of boys I went to school with that I absolutely couldn’t stand?”

“Of course, one was James. The other two, I’m not sure you ever mentioned their names.” 

“Well, James was sort of their ring leader. And James was the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He constantly asked me on dates. He was relentless. Luckily, despite how good-looking and charming he was, I never fell for it. Anyway, his friends. Their names were Peter and…”

“No fucking way, that’s true,” Remus replied, clearly not believing Lily. 

Lily shook her head yes. “Oh yeah, it’s true. It has to be him. You described him exactly as I remember him. He was posh, but not exactly what I would call put together in school. He was always clunking around in Doc Martens, tie-askew. The three of them were always getting into some kind of trouble and fights. And, I mean, how many wizards are named Sirius?”

“There are plenty of wizards with strange names,” Remus said, leaning back off the table a bit. 

“Come on, Remus. We both know it’s him. Sirius would pick fights with anyone who looked at him or James or Peter the wrong way. Particularly the Slytherins. He once got into a brawl so brutal that he was in the hospital wing for a week and then sent home early for Christmas.” 

“Who was the fight with?”

“His brother,” Lily said matter of factly. “No one really knows what they were fighting about. It was our last year, and when they came back from holidays, Sirius wasn’t the same. He still spent his time with James and Peter, but he was more subdued. I don’t think he got a single detention for the rest of the school year. At least none from me.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Head girl and all, you little swot.” Remus teased, and Lily threw the towel she was still holding at his face. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being head girl,” she said as he laughed a little. “I could try to figure out how to contact him if you want.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t leave here on the best terms with me. He thinks I tried to drug him. I just sobered him up and gave him a bit of healing potion. He acted like I was trying to poison him or something. It was bizarre. Most people like it when they get help here.” Remus said. 

“Maybe he wasn’t looking for help.” Lily retorted. 

“Why would he come in then?”

“Maybe he honestly just wanted a cup of coffee and to be left alone.” 

“That seems unlikely.” 

“Remus, love, not everyone is looking to be saved all the time.” 

“I know that,” Remus said a little too defensively. “He was beaten, and stoned, and he looked like he really needed help. What if he still does?”

“I’ll make a call and see if I can find anything out, but Remus, don’t get your hopes up too high, ok? I don’t want to see you hurt. His family, they’re not… they are not good people. They are one of the darkest families in Wizarding Britain.” 

“I thought you said he was in your house? Aren’t all of you Gryffindors supposed  to be the good guys here?”

“He was, and yes, we are the good guys,” she chuckled, “but the power of family is strong, and if he didn’t get out of it, he’s probably deep in the thick of it. I’ll see what I can find out ok?” she asked. 

“Ok,” Remus said, standing and walking over to Lily, who was still seated at the table. He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, Lils. You’re truly the best.” 

“I know,” she said as she watched Remus walk towards the door and start to turn the lock.  

Remus froze, hand on the lock he hadn’t quite turned all the way. “I have to go, Lily.”

“What? Remus, where the hell do you have to go right now? We’ve got to close up.”

“You’re not going to believe who is standing across the street,” Remus motioned towards the door's window. 

“Well, I guess I won’t have to make that call after all,” Lily said, looking out of the window. “It’s him, you know. It’s Sirius Black. Just be careful ok?” Lily said, looking into Remus’ eyes, trying to implore him to understand her concern. 

“I will. I just need to talk to him.” Remus said, looking out the window again. Sirius cocked his head to the side slightly in invitation. Remus grabbed Lily’s hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and opened the door to let himself out, took a quick deep breath, and walked across the street towards the beautiful broken mess that was leaning against the brick wall waiting for him. 

#remus lupin #sirius black #dark coffee shop au #hp marauders #gift fic #wolfstar #lily evans #aberforth dumbledore #endgame remus/sirius

[themackenzieboydchronicles]

Someone is Heartbroken.

(and it isn't Mackenzie)

Mackenzie was going through the finances and profit margins from the Cocktail bar when a knock came to the door.

"Happy Christmas" smiled Lucy "I've brought presents round for you and the boys"

"Come in Lucy I have a present for you as well"

"How are you doing. You look great Mackenzie. I hear the cocktail bar is doing well"

"Yes it's packed at the week ends. I'm just going through the books now and it looks very healthy but with this Omicron varient it might tail off a bit"

"I'm glad to see you are getting your life back on track Mackenzie"

"I'm doing fine now Lucy thank you. I'm getting married."

Lucy tried to hide her disappointment but it hit her like a hammer blow. "Oh! Who's the lucky girl. Meena?"

"Yes" replied Mackenzie.

"Well congratulations Mackenzie. Now let's sort these presents out"

"You'll stay for a cuppa?".

"Yes, sounds perfect. I didnt realise you were that serious" said Lucy. "So can I expect a wedding invitation?"

"Of course. It happened so quickly Lucy. I'm very much in love with her"

"Well I wish you both well and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. You must call round in the holidays and show me the ring. We'll I'll be off now" said Lucy "Thanks for the tea"

Lucy went outside and could not hide her disappointment any longer she started crying as she headed towards the pub. Lucy sat on the bench outside the pub and cried.

"Lucy are you OK" said Chas who was collecting in some glasses and saw how upset Lucy was.

"I'm just being stupid" said Lucy "I've just seen Mackenzie and he's told me him and Meena are getting married"

"Come inside Lucy"

Chas took Lucy into the back room. "Paddy can you give us a minute"

"Yes Lucy, we are all worried about him. We think he is on the rebound but he's adamant he's going to marry her. Moira is beside herself with worry"

"Have you fallen for him Lucy?" Chas asked handing a glass of wine to Lucy.

Lucy nodded "I'm afraid I have. I think I'm in love with him. But he's made his mind up about Meena hasn't he and she is a very attractive woman"

"Well beauty is only skin deep, and I'm afraid yes, he has made his mind up. We're all hoping he'll see sense before it's too late. He's on the rebound from Aaron we think. But believe me she will break his heart"

"Yes I thought perhaps he was on the rebound" said Lucy. "I was sorry to hear about Ben, but surely Liv isn't responsible"

"We are all starting to think that and I'm hoping for Aarons sake she is innocent" said Chas

"If she needs a solicitor give her my number. You have it don't you?

"Yes I do but she couldn't afford to hire you"

"There will be no charge Chas I promise"

"Oh Lucy that's very kind of you and I can't wait to tell her"

The two women hugged and wished each other good bye.

"Keep in touch" said Chas.

"Yes I will. Chas I know its a strange question, but do you think Meena is in love with Mackenzie."

"Funny you should say that Lucy. She is a weird sort of a girl and my mum thinks she is with Mack to make Billy jealous. But that is going to backfire on her if she's not careful as Billy isn't interested in her"

"Oh no. Surely she wouldn't do that to Mackenzie. Can't someone warn him"

"We've tried Lucy but he thinks she is wonderful. All we can do is be here for him when it all goes pear shaped"

"Exactly" said Lucy "I'll keep in touch and I'll see you again Chas have a lovely Christmas"

Chas went back into the bar.

"Moira Come through to the back I've got some Goss"

"Whats going on Chas?"

"Just saw Lucy outside she was in floods of tears as Mack had told her he was getting married. She's just gone and fallen in love with him hasn't she" Chas excitedly told Moira.

"What?" said a surprised Moira.

"Right. I think we can get her onside" said Chas.

"Well I've just seen Billy and it looked like him and Meena were having words" said Moira.

"She's definitely a weirdo Moira" said Chas. "We'll we're going to Debbie's tomorrow for Christmas so we'll see if there are any developments over Christmas by the time we get back. In the meantime I've got two bottles of wine that needs drinking"

"What we waiting for then?" laughed Moira.

.

#save mackenzie boyd #meena jutla #emmerdale #marry in haste repent at leisure

[sgt-peppers-lonely-writer]

When I Needed Someone- Ringo Starr

Pairing: Teddy Boy! Ringo x reader

Words: 997

Plot: After some family issues, you go to Ringo's house

Warning: really bad angst, family issues

A/N: I would always work on this when my family would be complete and utter assholes because Ringo is my comfort boy and legit it's a wild time. But on an all serious note, if something like this happens and you need to talk about it, I'm always right here :)

~

You climbed up the tree and onto the roof. You made it to Ringo's window and gently tapped on it, making the teddy boy wake up. He turned on his lamp and then walked to the window and opened it. He extended his hand so you could safely make it into his room. 

"Hey, what're you doing here?" He asked tiredly while laying back down on his bed. 

"My family's being assholes again, what else do you expect? They're driving me insane and I just need to leave for a few days." 

"You're welcome to stay here, love. Come here," he said while extending his arms out for you to come to him. You made his way towards him and made it into his arms.

Ringo didn't look like the way he acted. His hair was usually slicked with hair gel with his natural grey steak and eyebrow, and his facial hair made him look more dangerous, but he wasn't. He wrapped his arms safely around you and brought you in close to him. 

"Ring, I don't know what to do anymore. They're fine one minute and then it all goes to hell the next. It's like they don't love me anymore and I've never felt more confused." You stated while finally breaking down, his blue eyes looked down at you in concern and sympathy. "What did I do wrong?" 

"You didn't do anything wrong, birdie," he said softly while wiping your tears away. "Don't think you've done anything wrong. Your family isn't worth it if they treat you like that."

"I must've done something wrong though for them to say that I don't do anything right. They threatened to kick me out so many times now and I just want to hide away," you sobbed this time, making Ringo's heart ache for you. 

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve every bad thing your family has done to you, but here you were, crying and holding onto him and feeling so lost. So very lost. 

"Would you like me to go down and fix a cuppa?" Ringo asked, trying to get your mind off of everything. "Or maybe I can put on some music?"

"Can I have some tea?" You asked hoarsely while trying to wipe some tears away. 

"Of course. Why don't you stay right here and get comfortable and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Ringo planed a soft kiss on your forehead before he went downstairs leaving you alone in his room. You sat up and propped against yourself against the wall. Just you, the posters of Rockabilly singers, and your thoughts in the room.

You started crying again because the thought of your parents no longer loving you was so heartbreaking and so distressing to you. And you didn't dare tell Ringo what they said about him. 

That's the main reason why you left because they were always bashing him because he was "good-for-nothing" and "just a pile of rubbish that will eventually toss you out".

You grabbed one of his blankets and wrapped yourself up in it, trying to calm down. You let out a loud sniff as Ringo came back in, holding a steaming tea cup.

"With milk and honey, just the way you like it," he beamed before he saw the state you were in. Ringo quickly sat the cup down on his night stand and came to your side. He tried to find you under the blanket as fast as he could as you let out a quiet sob.  He eventually found you and pulled you into another hug, this time it was tighter than the other one. 

"It's going to be ok, I got you. I'm not going to let you go back home with them," he whispered as he stroked your hair. 

"They insulted you," you sobbed, "They hate me and they hate you and I'm tired of everything! I'm so tired, Ringo."

"I know, I know, but it's going to be ok. I'm going to be here for you. Just breathe, you're safe here. I love you, (Y/N) and I'm not going to let you go through this alone." 

He placed his head on top of yours and rocked you gently. You knew that he wasn't going to leave you until you cheered up. He wasn't going to leave. He'd never let you suffer through anything alone. 

"You're tea's getting cold," Ringo pointed out, making you laugh. He smiled at you as he reached over and grabbed the tea cup and handed it to you. "Chamomile, milk, and honey tea just for you." 

You took the cup with a shaky hand. Ringo looked worried as you brought it up to your lips with the tea threatening to spill over the rim of the cup. "You always do know how to make it just right," you smiled.

"There's my girl," he cooed as he wiped the remaining tears that wouldn't exactly roll down your cheeks away. "Smiling and laughing again." 

"Could you possibly put on a record until we fall asleep?"

Ringo just grinned as he stood up and picked out a random record and he placed it on. Soon you were meet with the faint sound of Paul Anka. 

You quickly finished your tea and sat the cup back down on his dresser before laying down on his bed. Ringo laid down next to you while turning his lamp off, making his room dark. You hummed along with the song tiredly making Ringo laugh. 

"I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered to you. 

"I love you too, Rings. Thank you for going through that, I know it must've been weird," you admitted awkwardly. 

"It was nothing at all," he said while kissing you gently, "You always come first to me. Now try to get some sleep, ok?" 

You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him and ended up falling asleep to Put Your Head On My Shoulder, with Ringo humming the words softly to you.

#ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagine #richard starkey #richard starkey x reader #richard starkey imagine #the beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

I don't want to sound offensive or erase anybody but like isn't nearly everybody demisexual? I don't know anybody who just goes around and has sex with someone they don't really know or like. I bet there are people who do,but like... I don't know many

Too bad you don’t “want” to sound offensive because you are being offensive anyway.

As I said in the initial post that started all of this:

“Where allosexuality ends and asexuality starts isn’t a hard predetermined edge. Demisexuality falls somewhere on that spectrum and everyone decides for themselves if this label fits them or not. For some people this label is exactly what they needed to understand their sexuality better - others may theoretically fit the demisexual criteria but don’t ever feel the need to find a label for it.”

Even if “nearly everybody” were demisexual that doesn’t mean you cannot use the word? It doesn’t invalidate people who’ve found peace and comfort in that label. It’s cool for you if you don’t feel like you need to figure that part of your sexuality out and find a word for it - but others do. Just respect that and leave it. Be happy for them that they unravelled something that might have been a mystery to them for a while.

Also don’t forget that sexual actions are not the same as sexual identity attraction (edited because that’s more what I had in mind, sorry). Yes, I also prefer to know my sexual partners a little bit better before being intimate for the first time but if I decide I want to get to know them better I have already been sexually attracted to them. I (an allosexual) can feel sexual attraction towards a random stranger on the train - I’d still ask them out for at least a cuppa tea before banging them. But demisexual people do not feel sexual attraction until they know the person better. How is that so hard to understand?

Maddie

#can people just leave the ace community alone?! #let them have their words and labels #let them express their experience of sexuality IN WORDS #like.... with language.... as humans do #and don't keep invalidating them #Anonymous

[miintsprigz]

Hiya!:] Was wonderin if you could do some headcanons for Scout and a GN!Reader that loves to sing and dance when they're alone? If this isn't exactly your cuppa tea, or if you dunno how to write this, you can ignore this request, I ain't forcin ya./pos

Hope you have a good day/night/evening/afternoon !!

I started writing last night and then forgot to save and lost EVERYTHING AAAH

I absolutely ADORE this prompt because it’s something I do, and I found the perfect song for it the other night to boot. I hope this is good—-

Song used as inspiration: “Knock Three Times” by Tony Orlando and Dawn

Character: Scout (TF2)

The mercs had finally left for the day, and for the first time in a long time, home base was vaguely quiet.

You adored them, each and every one of them, but the volume and sheer chaos of having all nine of them around could grate on you from time to time. Sometimes it was nice to just have the place to yourself for a little while.

As you got out of bed after hitting snooze a few times, it seemed as though you may have had your chance.

On went the radio as you started mixing some batter for a late pancake breakfast. It wasn’t long after you started heating up the skillet that one of your favorite songs came on.

You knew that meant only one thing.

At first, you hesitated, so used to a head poking out from around the corner, or a voice calling out just down the hall. But hey, the fellas were all at work! If there was any time to jam out, it was now.

So that’s exactly what you did. Singing along as though auditioning for some kind of contest (in your mind, if nothing else, you were winning), and turning the kitchen into your personal dancefloor.

Caring not how you looked or sounded. Simply filling the open air with music and making this little spot your happy place.

It was only a few songs later, and after stacking up a couple pancakes and starting to cook some bacon up…that you realized that you were not, in fact, alone.

A voice rang out.

“So, when’s the talent show audition, slugger? I think you’re gonna make it!”

You jumped probably a full foot backwards, eyes popping open. With a somewhat sheepish smile, the Scout poked his head through the doorway from the hall.

“How. Long have you been there.”

“Uh, since about…second or third song?”

“Why are you not at work???”

“…can’t a guy call out every so often? Geez.”

Cursing yourself under your breath, one hand came up and curled over your face.

“…remind me to check the rooms next time.” You could feel a rush of blood to your face, and the laughter of your surprise audience didn’t help.

Approaching you, he playfully bumped his shoulder against yours, elbowing you.

“Aw, c’mon, (Y/N)! Lighten up a little. It ain’t a crime ta have a good time. Hey. Look at dat. I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it.”

As you peeked through your fingers to pull a face at him, he smirked.

“There ya are.”

“You’re not gonna like…tell the others, right?”

“Don’t get why you’re so worried, but nah, I won’t tell ‘em if ya don’t want me to. Whoop, look out, your bacon’s gonna burn.”

“Oh!”

“I got it, I got it.”

Sure enough, he’d already caught it and got everything onto the plate…not-so-sneakily taking a piece for himself.

“Really though, you’re pretty good! I heard ya since you started this whole jam session, and honestly? You got some pipes on ya!”

Well, now you were just blushing at the compliments.

“And those moves? Engie’s been wantin’ ta start some…square dancin’ lessons, I think? Oh, he’d love dat.”

“You think so?”

“Sure! …(Y/N), ya only do solo dance parties, huh?”

“Uh…I guess? I dunno, I think I’d get too nervous to dance if I was in front of anyone.”

Scout raised an eyebrow at you, and looked to the side for a second, like he was checking to see if anyone else was around.

“…wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

“I do the same friggin’ thing.”

You couldn’t help but smile. He did tend to play his music pretty loudly, but you were never sure exactly what he was up to in his room.

No sooner did he say that than a song that both of you happened to love came on. He eyed you slyly, biting back a grin.

You had to try your best not to crack a smile yourself. “What are you doing…”

He motioned with one hand out, trying not to laugh. “(Y/N), quick…before that gets cold. One song?”

Well, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. Shrugging your shoulders, you chuckled. “Can’t hurt. Just promise you won’t laugh.”

“Nah.” He stared off sheepishly again. “…You promise da same?”

Nodding your head quickly, you followed his lead.

It was awkward at times for sure—you each couldn’t read the other’s mind, and they didn’t quite move as you thought they would sometimes—but in spite of that, it was fun. Almost as fun as dancing by yourself.

By the end, both of you were beaming.

“Hey, maybe I oughta talk ta hardhat about that hoedown thing.”

“I think I could try that.”

“Havin’ you as a dance partner, I think it might be kinda fun!”

“Aw gosh.”

“Whaaat? I’m not bad, you can’t deny that.”

You rolled your eyes, handing him a plate before you helped yourself.

“…aw, you shouldn’t have.”

“Oh shush, I knew you were gonna ask, Scout.”

“…guilty.”

#tf2 x reader #scout tf2 #tf2 scout #scout x reader #mint writes