Meitsuki24

I've officially gone insane – happy 50th to Charlie !!

ao3 writers staring at their inboxes 0.2 seconds after posting a new fic

Average day at Lonnit entertainment

High stakes for the vampire bingo? I need some stabby time and a distraught Beck <3 ☺️🥺😊

i haaaaaad to make it an au. bc ive had this idea in my head for a while and i just. had to.

masterlist bingo card

vampire hunter helle

tw vampire whumper, kidnapping, humiliation, dehumanisation, noncon touching and biting, very suggestive stuff, mind control

Beck didn't expect to find them awake. They weren't supposed to be awake in the middle of the day, and they definitely weren't supposed to be flipping through his Bible all nonchalant while keeping his wrists pinned above his head with their other hand. Why wasn't the thing at least burning them a little? Just a little distraction would've been nice.

At least he wasn't enthralled yet. Something was working, either the book, or the cross around his neck; whatever it was, he was grateful.

"Let me go," he hissed, fed up with the way the vampire was basically ignoring him in favour of some psalms. "You took my brother! You took the only family I had left, at least– at least kill me, then!"

They slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the floor, finally focusing all their attention on him — which wasn't such a great thing, in hindsight. But if he was to go out the same way as his brother, well, he wanted to get it over with while he still had some fight left in him.

"I remember your brother," they purred. "Some of the best blood I've had in years, really. God must love me a lot, after all, if He found time to send me a replacement."

"I hope you choke on it." He tried to kick them, but he stood no chance against vampire reflexes. He ended up right back where he started, but now with the wind knocked out of him after the vampire had slammed him against the wall for a second time.

"I like a polite meal," they said calmly, visibly enjoying the way he wheezed and struggled to draw a proper breath. "So..." They glanced down at his belt, chock-full of anything that might hurt a vampire, and picked out the stake. They slid it out of the holster easily, holding it up and giving Beck a faux-compassionate look as they tossed it next to the Bible. "Revenge, huh?"

"Just die, why can't leeches like you just die and stay dead?" he snapped, and the vampire chuckled.

"Ah, yes, leeches... Leeches like me... Despicable. Awful." They threw a knife onto the pile, then another. Once the belt was empty, they moved on to patting him down, searching for anything hidden while taking extra care to touch every inch of his body.

"Stop– stop touching me!"

They gave him a smug grin when they found yet another silver knife, tucked safely into the lining of his coat. "Why should I?" They put the blade flat-side against his cheek, gently dragging it all the way back down to the side of his neck. "I can do whatever I want with you."

Beck glared at them, only flinching a little when the edge of the knife finally nicked him. He could soon feel the warm trickle of blood down his throat, unable to reach the edge of his shirt before the vampire leaned in and licked it off, making him gasp. They caught him by surprise, that was all. He expected them to bite, not lick.

"If you promise to be a good boy for me," they murmured against his skin, "we can forego magic entirely."

"As if," he spat without thinking.

"Oh? Come now, do not be stubborn." They pulled back to make another small cut, using the knife to turn his head to the side afterwards so they could kiss a trail down from his cheek to the wound, lapping up the spilled blood. Beck shuddered without meaning to, and he was pretty sure that the vampire was way past the point of using magic on him. "I am offering you a generous deal."

"What's the point if you're just gonna lie?" he forced out.

"I would never– wait, could it be?" They nuzzled against him, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear and making his breath hitch. "Surely not. A well-trained, seasoned hunter like you would never lust after a vampire and mistake it for charm, would he?"

No. No, absolutely not. Vampires were liars, manipulators, wretched, murderous, disgusting–

"Say, hunter... Have you ever been high on venom?"

"Don't," he blurted out, breathing quickening. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Do I even need it?" They threw the knife on the bed before grabbing him by the face, and Beck felt his knees buckle in a way that could not possibly have been natural. "No, probably not. The ones like you... well, I suppose there are many benefits to being a vampire hunter."

Beck swallowed and tried to get away again, but he was well and fully trapped. The vampire even let him struggle a little, only to pin him down once again, like a butterfly against the board. "Stop– just, just drain me and get it over with! Don't– d-don't do this–"

"I can let you go with your mind and your body mostly intact," they said again, and Beck just didn't care for the mindgames, and he felt too hazy and scared to make any sort of deal. "But only if you cooperate. This is the last time I am telling you."

"You're lying," he all but whined, and the vampire sighed.

"I suppose you leave me no choice. Let me show you what I could do, if I so chose."

The change was instantaneous. His mind was stolen quicker than his Bible had been, and if he had any thoughts left in his head, he might've realised that this could've been his fate from the moment he'd set foot in the mansion. He was nothing but prey, toyed with by a predator that knew exactly how to get him during the whole ordeal, and simply decided not to.

It went as quick as it had come, and Beck soon found himself back in his body, panting like he'd just had another nightmare. The vampire was patiently waiting for him to catch his breath, seemingly satisfied with the amount of terror even this small sample had caused.

"So?" they asked, gently brushing his hair away from his face. "Do you really want to pass up the opportunity and let me enthrall you in earnest?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "No, no, please, n-not that–"

"Do you think I was lying?"

"No! No, m-maybe, I don't know, I'm sure you can do it more subtly! I don't care, I don't care, just, just not again, not that again–"

"Yes, subtly..." They cupped his cheek and leaned in, kissing down the other side of his neck this time, mercifully leaving the cuts alone. "Or maybe you should not have pursued a career like this, given how sensitive your neck is, dear."

Beck sucked in a breath, trying to just tune it out. "Everyone's is. It's– it's my fucking neck."

"Mhm. Do we have a deal, then?"

As much as he'd thought he had nothing to lose... maybe there were some worse fates than death, ones that were alright to want to avoid, even if it meant debasing himself a little. "Y-yeah."

The vampire nipped his neck, and he could feel all the blood rushing into his face. Were they doing it just for this? "I want to hear it. 'Yes, Master'. Come on, enthusiastically."

"If you wanted an enthusiastic thrall, then–"

"Then what?"

Beck took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was taking him nowhere. He just had to play along for a little bit. "Nothing," he mumbled.

The vampire pulled away to look him in the eye, and he thought he might faint from the embarrassment alone. Fear had been long forgotten in favour of whatever this was, given how little interest the vampire had shown in actually killing him.

"So?" they prompted. "Do we have a deal?"

"Y-yes, Master."

They grinned, and Beck instantly knew they were about to push it further. "Say the whole thing for me."

"I promise– I promise I'll be good for you, Master."

"Good boy," they cooed, and he could barely stop a whimper from slipping out. This wasn't normal, it wasn't, this wasn't just him, it couldn't be just him– "Just to be clear," the vampire added as they leaned in, "I am not using any venom."

Beck gasped when he felt the fangs finally sinking into his neck, still holding onto the idea that it was a lie, that the vampire was simply lying to mess with his head. That was all that remained of his thoughts, really, the miserable conviction he could only halfway make himself believe as he arched against their body and breathed out in a pathetic whine.

Magic, magic, magic, it had to be magic–

It wasn't magic when the vampire all but moaned against his skin like he was fine wine, too good not to be enjoyed audibly.

It wasn't magic when they started grinding against him, and he started questioning what exactly it meant to be good, and why it wasn't scaring him as much as it should've.

He was entirely breathless by the time the vampire pulled away, licking their lips clean of any red that remained. "You taste good," they murmured, and Beck looked away from them, only to have his face be grabbed again and turned back until he met their eyes. "Say 'thank you', darling. You promised to be good, remember?"

"Thank you," he choked out, softly adding 'Master' when it became clear he wasn't going to get away with leaving it off.

"There you go." They let go and used him turning away as an opportunity to press a little kiss to his cheek. "Now apologise for calling me a leech."

"I'm sorry, Master," he said without much encouragement, falling into the rhythm all too easily.

"'It will never happen again.'"

"It'll never happen again, Master."

"Good." They let go of his wrists and stepped back, and Beck fell to his knees from exhaustion and blood loss, not even caring anymore. What did it matter? The vampire could make him do whatever they wanted anyway. "I have an actual reward for you, hunter."

"No more," he muttered. "Please."

"Oh? Never mind, then. I can tell my darling Joel to go back to his room."

Beck's eyes snapped open at the mention of his brother's name, and he crawled a little closer, grabbing onto the vampire's pants. "You– you have Joey? Joey's alive? Don't– don't mess with me, please, not about Joey." The tears came out of nowhere, and it only got worse when they smiled and gently petted his hair. "Please–"

"Shh, just stay like this. Nice and docile, hm? Just let me enjoy it for a moment."

Beck would've let them do anything if it meant he'd get his brother back. He clung to those pants like a lifeline, trying to bite his tongue and be as still as possible, hoping it hadn't been a joke or a cruel trick.

After a few seconds, the vampire whistled like one would for a dog to come, and Beck wanted to stake them once more just for mocking his brother like that. But all of that went out the window when Joey actually entered the room, safe and sound apart from the bite wounds that marred his neck.

Beck pushed himself to his feet, swaying from blood loss and almost fainting before he even got to Joey, but it didn't matter, because he could finally hug him and tell him how much he'd missed him. "I can't believe you're alive," he sobbed.

"What are you... why are you... Beck, what's going on?" Joey held him just as tight, choking a little on unshed tears himself. "Why are you here?"

"Doesn't matter! Doesn't matter, it doesn't matter anymore, this is better than anything I could've come here for!"

"Not to interrupt," the vampire cut in, and both of them were quick to break apart and try to shield the other from harm. "But you two should go home. It is still the middle of the day, and I would like to get some more sleep."

"Go home...?" Joey asked, eyes wide. "Master, what do you–"

"Don't question it!" Beck grabbed him by the hand and tried to pull him away, frowning a little when Joey didn't follow. "Joey?"

"I can't leave Master," he said like it was obvious, and the vampire tutted.

"No, no, run along. Do not get disobedient on me at the last moment, dear."

"You heard them!" Beck said urgently, tugging on his brother's hand again. "Come on!"

It was a struggle to get Joey to move. Beck had a very strong suspicion that if the vampire hadn't told him to, they would've both been standing in the doorway to their bedroom still.

He told himself it didn't hurt when he looked at his brother's dejected face. He told himself he understood, and that they could celebrate later, when Joey'd had some time to snap out of it.

He wiped the remaining blood off his own neck, hoping, praying this was the end of it.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

I just started playing a few days ago! I can already tell it’s going be so hard to find drawing time 😅 Here’s my Tav, Gale, and Wyll

Interrupting the BG3 uploads to post a Charlie TDIM. Happy birthday my silly silly man, I still love you.

Well guys, it started as a joke but it’s getting to the point where I had to point out my observations. So here’s what I believe to be the first ever Du’Mark post (I’m so sorry)

A bit of backstory: This entire concept started when my best friend and I were talking about Du’lie, and we noticed that Mark seems to be the only character never shipped with Du’met in any way. Du’Mark became an inside joke between us as we played and we gradually started to realise that it’s actually got some potential. We usually don’t invest in these types of ships but the observations were clear to see. Let me run through our points.

The main points:

-The entire Ultimatum situation. Du’met specifically selected Mark as the one he was going to use in the end. Much like I’ve seen fanfictions about Charlie actually being complicit in Du’met’s murders, we couldn’t help but pick up on the fact that Mark canonically can aid Du’met in a similar way, if mostly against his will.

-The fact that Mark is the only one who sees Du’met’s face. The entire boat fight could be used in these types of observations tbh. The way it’s set so that the fight will always mostly be Mark vs Du’met, the way Du’met seems fixated on him for most of the fight and the way he stands over him can all be read that certain way. 

And a few smaller ones that can be shippy if you read it that way:

-The cage that Mark was supposed to end up in had chains… there’s potential there.

-Du’met will take and wear Mark’s clothing when tricking Kate. 

-Ties him up to a pole. Fun.

-In the grinder scene, he keeps a picture of Mark and Kate. I’m sure something can be said about that.

-They have that whole fight in the lighthouse where Mark can be choked by Du’met.

-When Du’met is chloroforming Mark, the stances in those scenes can be read in a certain way… 

-And I’m sure there’s others I’ve forgotten, just give me time

Look, all I’m saying is these are things to consider. I don’t ship it myself but all I’m saying is… if I’ve seen him shipped with literally everyone else, I’ve gotta say there’s stuff there for Mark too. Felt a bit out of character writing this but it is what it is. I believe this makes me and my bestie the only???? People to pick up on these things? As Mark’s no.1 fan😍 I make observations about him and sometimes they involve Du’met. Anyway safe to say I can’t act superior to the Du’lie stans anymore. My bad y’all. We’re all a bit odd in this fandom but that’s the beauty of it. I take back everything I said, I think.

Happy September -- let's go in guns blazing!

First of all, I am very sorry for the delay; real life is kicking my ass a little But, we prevail! And this month's prompts might be my favorite so far -- they have such a Slade/Jason vibe that I can't get enough of. Right now the AO3 collection has 49 fics!!! That's almost 50 written in less than a year for a ship that, just a few years ago, was a bonafied rare pair. So thank you to everyone who's been contributing, kudos-ing, commenting, and inspiring this kickass content with two of DC's hottest and most badass tragic anti-heroes <3 September's prompts are: borrowing each other's weapons or armor, BDSM AU, courting, kidnapping, enemies/rivals with benefits, clothed man/naked man

Cat Cafe!AU Chapter 4

This time, it's Charlie's POV ;)

After Hector leaves, Charlie bangs his head to the wooden counter, groaning softly when he feels throbbing pain on his forehead. How could he blurt something like that? He could just word it better, he knows his flirty game is not that high but he doesn't know he could be that low. Yes, deep inside him he wishes he could spend more time with Hector, but with the way Hector fell silent, frowned and glared at him… He probably got offended, making Charlie pedaled back, wishing he could pull those words back to his mouth and the ground below swallow him whole.  

It's not even a good joke either. It's a bloody cringe!

Charlie bangs his head again, but softly this time and stays in that position for a while. Juicebox, the brown munchkin, comes up to him and plays with his hair, pulling it gently. Charlie takes the cat and buries his face into its belly fur instead. He just has a regular customer, who almost everyday comes to his cafe and now he ruins it, just like everything else. There would be a small chance he will come to the cafe tomorrow, hell, maybe he won't come at all. Charlie's shoulders sag as he starts tidying up the cafe, the bells jingle as he flips the open/closed sign board on the door and makes sure the cats have gotten into their respected cages, except Mr. Holmes, as he will spend his night with Charlie. 

After making sure everything is in its place, Charlie goes to his little apartment upstairs, finding the black cat waiting for him on his bed. By the look of him, he looks offended, as if Charlie was taking too long spending his time downstairs. His bed creaks when he lays down and makes sure he pets the cat from behind so as to not stratle him. "It's been a long day, isn't it, Mr. Holmes? The bad guy is gone and you are safe now," Charlie rubs his nape, soothing him. After a while, the cat decides to sit on his lap in a loaf form, closes his eyes and purrs loudly, indicating he is feeling safe and comfortable. 

Charlie stairs at the ceiling, his mind is coming back to his favorite visitor. The first time he came, he was wearing a hat and black mask, covering half of his face and all Charlie could see was his brown eyes and thick eyelashes. He doesn't say anything, no matter how much Charlie tries to start a conversation with him. Of course for a second the barista suspected he is mute but he doesn't feel it's his place to ask him about it. At some point he is afraid he annoys him with his stories but those brown eyes, which look like a pool of honey when afternoon sunlight touches them, stares at him with undivided attention. The small nods and the thin smiles he gave him once for a while could energize him all day. 

He notices Hector used to sit at the corner, far away from anyone, almost blending with his surroundings, looking all serious with brow furrowed and eyes glued to his laptop but even then, Charlie can feel his gaze on him from the corner of his eyes. After the rainy day happened, where Hector was dripping wet from the rain, he sits closer to Charlie and it's even easier for Charlie to catch the visitor staring at him and while Charlie smiles at him merrily, he only smiles awkwardly. But it's still better than averting eyes or staring back at his laptop. Along with his closer proximity, Charlie thinks it’s a big progress. 

"He is just like you, you know," Charlie pets the black cat on his chest, "Staring at me from afar and getting closer as time goes. I wonder why you guys do that, isn't it easier to just come up to me and do something about it?” the barista hums and absentmindedly strokes the cat's cheek. Well, Hector just confessed to him he is mute, so it must be more challenging to him and he looks cautious. Could it be he is observing Charlie to make sure the best way to approach him? Whatever it is, Charlie feels the need to express his gratitude to him, properly. Hector has listened to all of his chatter and even protected him, getting his knuckles torn in the process. Maybe he does want to interact with him but with his disability it's difficult to do so? Maybe there's still one thing Charlie can do and not fuck up this time. Time to take his laptop and start researching. 

Charlie groans softly as he feels his glasses pressed between his face and the mattress. He ends up staying up late at night to learn Basic American Sign Language; downloading tons of PDF, practicing with youtube, subscribing for sign language class online. In the end, he realizes he can’t cram all of the lessons into his head and decides to learn some words he wants to sign to Hector. As he brushes his teeth, he looks at his phone and realizes he is late to open the cafe’s door for Jamie, the cook who works in the kitchen, hence why she rarely appears on the other side of the cafe. 

Charlie opens the door and finds the cook folds her arms on her chest, left foot taps impatiently, “Hello, sleeping beauty, your clock ran out of battery this morning?”

“Shut up, I just had a rough night,”

“Really?” Jamie smirks as she gets in, eyeing his bed hair, “Amazing, Charlie Lonnit, finally get laid.” 

Charlie snorts and decides to ignore her remark, “A drunk man came in and got bitten by Mr. Holmes, he almost thrashed this place if one of our customers didn’t stop him.”

Jamie frowns, the incident must be late enough after her shift is over. They go to the staff room and watch the CCTV record of last night. “Why didn't you tell me right away? And let me guess, that customer who helps you is the one who always bring his laptop and looks like he has gone to war or something,” 

“You mean Hector? Yeah, he beat the drunkard…,” Charlie shifts uncomfortably as they watch he tended his wound on the monitor. He quickly taps the pause button, feeling Jamie looking at him with a big grin. 

"Did he really? Damn, I think he is your biggest fan. I mean, come on, he comes here every weekday and I bet it’s not just because of coffee nor cats. "

"Shut up," Charlie takes on the rags and cleans the counter with Jamie following him.  She won't miss any chance to annoy him, "There's no way he comes here because of me. Maybe he lives in an apartment where they're prohibited to have pets or something."

"Do you need to replace your glasses or are you blind? He comes here everyday and stares at you like you stole his soul."

"He is just staring, people do that sometimes." Charlie snorts and shakes his head as he prepares the coffee machine. He has thought about this all night but why now he denies it? Is it even harder to accept the fact that Hector might have interest in him when other people notice it too? 

"Just staring? Are you kidding me? In case you forgot, he beat up someone to protect you,"

"You're jumping to conclusions. He is just a customer." Jamie just folds her arms on her chest and raises one of her brow. "Okay, alright, it's a little odd," Charlie retaliates. 

"Odd? Come on, you see what you want to see, Charlie, but if you two become a thing, you owe me 5 bucks." 

“Just go back to the kitchen,” Charlie groans and looks away, hiding his blush from Jamie. He has been thinking about his interaction with Hector all night and he doesn’t need his coworker spewing other facts at him. Jamie might be right, well, or not, she spends her time mostly in the kitchen and just occasionally sees Hector, of course she doesn’t have enough data to make any sound deduction. But what if Jamie is right? If that is even possible, then Charlie’s effort to learn sign language might be a good act to get closer to Hector. He hopes.

Charlie brushes his hair and wears his fake cat ears, making sure it snug neatly on his head before he turns the open sign board on the door. Totoro, a gray maine coon with white belly, lays on the way back and almost makes the Barista trip. Of course Charlie is the one who apologizes to him, cats never make mistakes, aren’t they? Charlie picks up the giant cat and puts him on the cat tower with a groan, Totoro is gaining weight again, he thinks. Last time he checked, he was almost ten kilograms, gotta put him on a diet and play with him more. He pets his head and gets back to sit behind the counter. It's almost eleven, Hector may come any time now and practicing his sign language as he waits might be a good idea. 

The familiar jingling of the bell stops him practicing and when he looks up, Hector is there, standing rather awkwardly in front of the counter. He looks more rugged than usual, as if he doesn't have enough sleep. Charlie gulps, he feels excited and nervous at the same time. He puts the side of his hand on his forehead,  moves it outwards and away from his head, signing it as a simple hello. Then, he spells Hector's name, his fingers tremble and he looks at them all the time, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, making sure he won't mess it up. He looks more confident as he succeeds, and starts to look at Hector again, signing with his eyebrows up, indicating it's a question, "What do you want to order?" 

Charlie held his breath, waiting for Hector's response. His heart thumping loudly but his surroundings is so silent he can hear the clock ticking. Wait, did he forget to play the background music? And then, finally, a smile blossomed on Hector's lips and Charlie can’t help but smile back. At least he doesn’t mess up this time, a world record, really. Hector still looks at him and realizes he hasn’t answered his question. He clenches both of his hands into fists and puts his right hand on top of his left hand, the right hand rubbing the other hand in circular motion.

Charlie frowns, he hasn’t learned that sign but the gesture reminds him of grinding coffee beans with an old hand grinder, “Uhmm, coffee?”

Hector nods, still with a soft smile on face, eyes never leaving Charlie. Eversince he comes here, Charlie never really sees him smile, only a slight tug on his lips. Charlie's heart swelled as he realized the impact of his efforts to learn sign language—it was as if he had unlocked a door to a side of Hector that he hadn't seen before. And being the curious cat he is, he is ready to explore more. Charlie prepares his coffee and places it on Hector’s table, which is now closer to his counter. Hector signs “Thank you,” with practiced ease.  Charlie's smile lit up as he caught the sign, feeling proud of himself he remembers the sign and he responded with a delighted sign of “You’re welcome,” and he knows he does it right because before he delivers the coffee, he looked it up on Youtube to just to make sure. Charlie might get into trouble a lot but he actually is a perfectionist to a fault. 

Hector's gaze turned curious. He signed a question, his fingers forming the signs with complicated movements Charlie isn't familiar with but with his brows up and tilted head, Charlie knows Hector is asking a question.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t learned those signs yet.” Charlie looks at him sheepishly with his cheeks red in embarrassment. Hector nods in understanding and takes his phone to type his question.

“When did you learn sign language?”  

“Oh, I learned it last night. I mean, you are coming here a lot and you just confessed you were mute so I think I should learn it so we can communicate easier. You don’t have to always type on your phone,you know?  I learned it from watching tutorials online, practicing signs, my fingers hurt a bit, but I was so excited! I mean, I just thought, why not? It's a new way to communicate, and I really want to be able to talk with you, you know? Besides, I’ve learnt that cats behavior is kinda sign language with their tails so maybe it’s about time I learn the human sign as well.” Charlie kicks himself mentally, the last sentence is unnecessary, isn’t it? Why is he being self-conscious with what he says to Hector? Come on, Charlie, be normal.

“I don’t mean I compare you to cats or learning cat behavior is more important than sign language, but they are some sort of my coworkers here and they can be really troublesome.”  Charlie, stop talking! He is just asking when did you learn sign language! The rational voice is blaring at him at the back of his mind and Charlie finally can bring himself to shut his mouth. 

Hector's smile was both amused and understanding, his eyes reflecting a warmth that put Charlie at ease. Charlie's tendency to chatter when nervous was endearing, and Hector appreciated the effort he was putting into learning sign language.

With a silent chuckle, Hector gives him a thumb up, "Great job." 

Charlie's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. He grins, a touch of bashfulness in his expression, "Well, I'm trying."

Hector nods and then teaches him a sign for “I learned last night.” along with other basic signs. Charlie’s movement is still stiff and slow, until suddenly he feels a warm hand engulfing his, correcting his hands to be more relaxed. The touch is gentle but instead of calming him, his heartbeat races and Charlie’s face becomes red again. Hector tilts his head in confusion and notices his tense shoulder, he lets out a long sigh and pats Charlie’s shoulders, urging him to the same. The barista nods, forcing himself to take a deep breath and release some of the tension that had built up. The touch lingers, warming his skin and sending shivers down his spine.

Charlie learns new signs and the correct fingers position, even he gets some tips from Hector. They only stop when there are other customers coming into the cafe. Charlie serves them with his usual enthusiasm and as he waits at the counter, instead of reading his veterinarian course book, he practices the new sign he has learned. While Charlie might mix up words or struggle with certain gestures, his dedication never wavered. He was determined to learn this new language—a language that would allow him to connect with Hector in a deeper, more meaningful way.  As he learns, he can feel the gaze from Hector and he looks back at him with a smile, signing him excitedly, “I’m learning!”

Hector smiles at him and signs him a good luck before he continues to work. The cats have surrounded him and found comfort in his presence, almost like he is one of the parts from the cafe. When he walks into the counter, he types to his phone to ask for the bill but Charlie has already prepared them and proudly signs him the exact number of the bill. He looks at him expectantly and his face turns brighter when Hector approves and gives him a thumbs up. As usual, Hector puts the coin for the tips and Charlie signs him “thank you.”  with touching his fingers to his lips then moving his hand toward him. He doesn’t need to purse his lips and blow but he does, probably because of muscle memory. The movement looks like Charlie is blowing a kiss to him instead. Hector thinks he should correct it but for some reason, he doesn’t want to. 

Charlie watches Hector leave his cafe with a satisfied smile on his face. He picks up Charlizard, the orange cat who usually sits on Hector’s lap and looks at his face with a grin. “Today is a success!” He always likes to explore something new and dive deep to learn them until he can apply them into practice. Especially when that skill can help him to understand and communicate with Hector more efficiently. Charlie appreciates the effort Hector was putting into teaching him, the patience and the genuine desire to help him learn. But beyond the determination Charlie has and Hector’s patient teaching, there is a shared understanding—a silent agreement that they are both investing in something special.

I ain't feelin well so here's a quick wet rat to satisfy my wet rat needs