ath1a

[ath1a]

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

[ath1a]

kids were roleplaying with minecraft figurines and one of them had their figure go up to the other and say “i’m in love with you” and the other one replied “sword slash to the chest. and you’re on fire”

[ath1a]

Espressos and Almond Lattes

I work in a cafe as a barista. My job isn’t particularly hard, I go through the days serving customers and cleaning tables. I find enjoyment in making drinks for people though, the cafe being a microcosm of everyone’s lives, put together in an amalgamation of different personalities, backgrounds and experiences. There is one customer in particular who caught my eye.

A man, who comes occasionally, entering for the first time after ‘noticing the signboard outside’. It was hard to understand him at first, his likes, dislikes and if he had any preferences for any drinks.

Usually he orders the first thing he sees on the menu boards, barely making eye contact, paying and walking away after getting his drink. But occasionally he orders one specific drink; a double espresso, no sugar. He orders the drink for small periods at a time, before going back to choosing random drinks.

A lot can be said about a customer, from the drink they choose, to the way they enter and leave, and even their reaction to a drink. You can tell whether they’re happy at their current point in their lives or if they’re experiencing a major event.

The man in particular is an interesting case. When he orders the double espresso for the first time in a while he seems to really crave the caffeine, understandably when you work long hours like I suspect he does - the bags under his eyes somewhat visible. But during these - espresso periods let’s call them - over the short time he’ll order them he starts to enjoy them less, sometimes commenting that its too bitter for him, and the caffeine is taking a toll on his body. Sometimes I mildly suggest he choose another drink instead, or maybe adding something extra for a change. The man insists he wants the espresso, but then a few days later he’ll order the triple shot mocha with cherry syrup or the pistachio cold brew with whipped cream. It’ll go on for a few weeks before he’s back to ordering the double espresso, no sugar.

And the cycle continues.

Until one day a few months down the line he comes in, leaving his bag at his usual chair before coming to me. Huh, that’s strange, he usually takes his drink first. I pay no attention until I realise he’s making direct eye contact with me, and not just for a few seconds. I wait expectantly for him to tell me his order, only for him to look at the menu board, falter and clear his throat, looking me in the eyes again.

He asks me to make something for him, a drink of my own choosing. Oh.

Oh.

Right, yes I need to make him…

An Almond Latte, I tell him. That’s what I’ll make for him.

You see almond lattes are my favourite drink. They’re very warm and inviting, the mildly bitter notes mixed with the subtle sweetness of the milk and the coffee blend. But they’re also the furthest thing from an espresso, not only in taste but also in appearance. almond lattes are a warm brown, compared to the dark almost inky black liquid of espressos.

They’re so different I doubt he would even like it.

I don’t usually make them for others, as a general rule for myself. The last time that happened it resulted in the customer never returning… I guess they really hated it, huh? Yet, somehow I’m now standing by the coffee maker, and the small jug of milk is in my hands, about to be frothed. I keep blanking out while somehow assembling the drink well enough to serve to the man, his sudden behaviour change at the forefront of my mind. By the time I’m done making it, he’s still there at the counter, ready to take the drink. I dust some cocoa powder on top and I gingerly place the drink on the counter, steadily awaiting his reaction.

Until I realise he’s smiling. He’s actually smiling - the corners of his mouth have tugged up into a faint smile, an expression I realise I’ve never actually seen before on him.

I want to see it more often.

The man tells me that next time I can bar the cocoa powder, but he wouldn’t mind any variation in the drink next time. Next time. He wants to order it again.

And he does, again and again, until it becomes his usual order. Over time I make slight changes, until I find the best combination for him. Over time his expressionless exterior breaks, the both of us sharing smiles from the cafe, even an inside joke or two about the other customers. Over time I realise my heart swells whenever I see him come through the door. Over time he starts leaving his coat with his bag, and his stays in the cafe get longer. Over time I see his gradual change through the months of ordering the almond lattes as he becomes less aloof, and more open.

I feel as if we have gotten incredibly close over time.

Until one day, he comes through the door, the winter chill cutting through the steamy warmth in the air and I can tell something’s up. He doesn’t meet my eye as he comes in, putting his bag down but not his coat, and for some reason I feel sick. Understandably I make mental excuses, maybe he’s in a rush, and can’t sit down for long today. Even though he’s made himself late for meetings by staying here before, he’s told me that himself. He doesn’t make eye contact with me as he comes up to the counter, and there’s a sinking feeling in my chest when I ask him for the usual-

No. He says. He still refuses to meet my eyes, the space around me apparently more compelling than I am. I ask him what he wants instead as I try and swallow the lump forming in my throat. I feel like I’m having to silently beg him to look at me. Why won’t he look at me?

He awkwardly clears his throat and asks for a double espresso, no sugar. Oh. Wait what?

I have to stop myself from asking him to repeat his request, I know I heard him loud and clear. I feel empty inside, but still, I go through the motions, making the drink for him. At one point I blankly stand by the coffee machine, the large mechanical box being the only visual barrier between me and him, while multiple questions cloud my mind.

Why the sudden change, what prompted it, did he not like the almond lattes? And if he didn’t, why did I keep making them for him?

I pour the dark liquid into a to-go cup, since he doesn’t seem to be sticking around today. I place it on the counter, and he gives a hard look at the cup, before looking back at me for the first time today. His eyes soften, and there’s almost a look of regret, but I blankly look back at him, my unwavering gaze showing no sign of any emotion. He looks back at the cup for a split second and grabs it, taking the cup. I nearly don’t hear the muttered apology as he leaves, taking his bag from his usual table and exiting.

The man’s trips suddenly become less frequent, only for a few minutes to grab his drink and leave. I’ve been sitting in the break room a lot these days, while I drink my almond lattes by myself. I prefer the solitude, that way I can enjoy them in peace, without the input of others.

Sometimes when the man comes in, he looks like he might order an almond latte, but the words double espresso, no sugar come out his mouth.

Anyways, I don’t think he’ll order an Almond Latte anytime soon, he likes Espressos too much to stop drinking them. It’s not my job as a barista to make him change his preferences either.

That’s up to him.

Funny how he made me think I could, though.

All works belong to @ath1a. Please do not repost without permission.

[ath1a]

Espressos and Almond Lattes

I work in a cafe as a barista. My job isn’t particularly hard, I go through the days serving customers and cleaning tables. I find enjoyment in making drinks for people though, the cafe being a microcosm of everyone’s lives, put together in an amalgamation of different personalities, backgrounds and experiences. There is one customer in particular who caught my eye.

A man, who comes occasionally, entering for the first time after ‘noticing the signboard outside’. It was hard to understand him at first, his likes, dislikes and if he had any preferences for any drinks.

Usually he orders the first thing he sees on the menu boards, barely making eye contact, paying and walking away after getting his drink. But occasionally he orders one specific drink; a double espresso, no sugar. He orders the drink for small periods at a time, before going back to choosing random drinks.

A lot can be said about a customer, from the drink they choose, to the way they enter and leave, and even their reaction to a drink. You can tell whether they’re happy at their current point in their lives or if they’re experiencing a major event.

The man in particular is an interesting case. When he orders the double espresso for the first time in a while he seems to really crave the caffeine, understandably when you work long hours like I suspect he does - the bags under his eyes somewhat visible. But during these - espresso periods let’s call them - over the short time he’ll order them he starts to enjoy them less, sometimes commenting that its too bitter for him, and the caffeine is taking a toll on his body. Sometimes I mildly suggest he choose another drink instead, or maybe adding something extra for a change. The man insists he wants the espresso, but then a few days later he’ll order the triple shot mocha with cherry syrup or the pistachio cold brew with whipped cream. It’ll go on for a few weeks before he’s back to ordering the double espresso, no sugar.

And the cycle continues.

Until one day a few months down the line he comes in, leaving his bag at his usual chair before coming to me. Huh, that’s strange, he usually takes his drink first. I pay no attention until I realise he’s making direct eye contact with me, and not just for a few seconds. I wait expectantly for him to tell me his order, only for him to look at the menu board, falter and clear his throat, looking me in the eyes again.

He asks me to make something for him, a drink of my own choosing. Oh.

Oh.

Right, yes I need to make him…

An Almond Latte, I tell him. That’s what I’ll make for him.

You see almond lattes are my favourite drink. They’re very warm and inviting, the mildly bitter notes mixed with the subtle sweetness of the milk and the coffee blend. But they’re also the furthest thing from an espresso, not only in taste but also in appearance. almond lattes are a warm brown, compared to the dark almost inky black liquid of espressos.

They’re so different I doubt he would even like it.

I don’t usually make them for others, as a general rule for myself. The last time that happened it resulted in the customer never returning… I guess they really hated it, huh? Yet, somehow I’m now standing by the coffee maker, and the small jug of milk is in my hands, about to be frothed. I keep blanking out while somehow assembling the drink well enough to serve to the man, his sudden behaviour change at the forefront of my mind. By the time I’m done making it, he’s still there at the counter, ready to take the drink. I dust some cocoa powder on top and I gingerly place the drink on the counter, steadily awaiting his reaction.

Until I realise he’s smiling. He’s actually smiling - the corners of his mouth have tugged up into a faint smile, an expression I realise I’ve never actually seen before on him.

I want to see it more often.

The man tells me that next time I can bar the cocoa powder, but he wouldn’t mind any variation in the drink next time. Next time. He wants to order it again.

And he does, again and again, until it becomes his usual order. Over time I make slight changes, until I find the best combination for him. Over time his expressionless exterior breaks, the both of us sharing smiles from the cafe, even an inside joke or two about the other customers. Over time I realise my heart swells whenever I see him come through the door. Over time he starts leaving his coat with his bag, and his stays in the cafe get longer. Over time I see his gradual change through the months of ordering the almond lattes as he becomes less aloof, and more open.

I feel as if we have gotten incredibly close over time.

Until one day, he comes through the door, the winter chill cutting through the steamy warmth in the air and I can tell something’s up. He doesn’t meet my eye as he comes in, putting his bag down but not his coat, and for some reason I feel sick. Understandably I make mental excuses, maybe he’s in a rush, and can’t sit down for long today. Even though he’s made himself late for meetings by staying here before, he’s told me that himself. He doesn’t make eye contact with me as he comes up to the counter, and there’s a sinking feeling in my chest when I ask him for the usual-

No. He says. He still refuses to meet my eyes, the space around me apparently more compelling than I am. I ask him what he wants instead as I try and swallow the lump forming in my throat. I feel like I’m having to silently beg him to look at me. Why won’t he look at me?

He awkwardly clears his throat and asks for a double espresso, no sugar. Oh. Wait what?

I have to stop myself from asking him to repeat his request, I know I heard him loud and clear. I feel empty inside, but still, I go through the motions, making the drink for him. At one point I blankly stand by the coffee machine, the large mechanical box being the only visual barrier between me and him, while multiple questions cloud my mind.

Why the sudden change, what prompted it, did he not like the almond lattes? And if he didn’t, why did I keep making them for him?

I pour the dark liquid into a to-go cup, since he doesn’t seem to be sticking around today. I place it on the counter, and he gives a hard look at the cup, before looking back at me for the first time today. His eyes soften, and there’s almost a look of regret, but I blankly look back at him, my unwavering gaze showing no sign of any emotion. He looks back at the cup for a split second and grabs it, taking the cup. I nearly don’t hear the muttered apology as he leaves, taking his bag from his usual table and exiting.

The man’s trips suddenly become less frequent, only for a few minutes to grab his drink and leave. I’ve been sitting in the break room a lot these days, while I drink my almond lattes by myself. I prefer the solitude, that way I can enjoy them in peace, without the input of others.

Sometimes when the man comes in, he looks like he might order an almond latte, but the words double espresso, no sugar come out his mouth.

Anyways, I don’t think he’ll order an Almond Latte anytime soon, he likes Espressos too much to stop drinking them. It’s not my job as a barista to make him change his preferences either.

That’s up to him.

Funny how he made me think I could, though.

All works belong to @ath1a. Please do not repost without permission.

[ath1a]

Much ado about love…

Synopsis: Kuni feels an interesting feeling for the first time

Female Y/N x Kunikizushi modern au 🤍💜🤍

He didn’t know when it happened.

At first, he didn’t know how, it kinda just…

Did.

That feeling. The feeling of being happy around someone and wanting them to always be there in your life.

The first time he felt it, he was scared. Scared he was going crazy. He didn’t know why or how he started feeling this way. But he knew the reason.

It was because of you. And he would do anything and everything in his power to never lose you.

If he lost you, then he’d probably give up on life entirely, except you wouldn’t be there to help him leave the hole he’d trapped himself inside of, not like before. You were like an angelic beam of light, a small flame that warmed his cold, concave heart.

He still remembered that day. You were both hanging out in his apartment and were watching some dumb corny romcom on the couch. Y/N’s body was on its side, with her head in Kuni’s lap watching the movie.

At this point it was just a routine for Kuni, where his eyes would slowly trail along

Y/N’s pretty face, her expressive round eyes, her soft pink lips, the freckles dusted on her cheeks, her-

“Stop staring.” Y/N’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and Kuni’s cheeks burned crimson, quickly looking away.

“Wasn’t looking at you, idiot”

“Were too”

“Do you have proof”

“I-…

Fine maybe I was looking at you. Is it a crime.”

To look at someone so pretty he added in his head. Kuni grumbled and flicked her head in annoyance.

“Ow! What the heck dude” Y/N lifted her head up to look at him, her eyes glaring into his.

Her very pretty eyes…

“Hey… Look at me Kuni.”

Y/N’s face had gotten very close to Kuni’s. Way too close. Any closer and he could, he might-

“What’s wrong, you look incredibly flustered.”

“I- I do? I hadn’t noticed. I’m probably just really warm in this room. I uh, I better go wash up.” Kuni got up to go to the bathroom, gently sliding off the couch, only to be stopped by someone.

“Wait. I need to ask,”

At this point Y/N had grasped onto Kuni’s hand and held him back from leaving. She got up also, and looked him straight in the eyes. Kuni tried his best not to look away.

“Are you okay? I feel like something’s bothering you, but I don’t want to pry, so,” Y/N sighed quietly. “If you want to talk about it, I’m always here”. Y/N looked into his eyes earnestly and Kuni felt his hands start to go clammy.

There it was, that…

That feeling. It blossomed inside of him, spreading across his body in a delicate warmth. He yearned to keep feeling this way about you.

Love.

Hey there! Thanks for reading my first one shot TwT. ngl I was very nervous to post but ah well :3. I’m testing out these two and seeing how well they work with each other. I have some ideas for an AU coming up hopefully though, so stay tuned!

Anyways I hope you have a great day loves, make sure to eat, drink and stay healthy!

~ Rxmen <3