#How nice to eat panettone

[pearlylamp]

—Um...how annoying, the man who appears in my dreams continues to disturb me even in December, he must be lonely, right?

[kokusfluffyhair]

Headcanons on how Muzan and Kokushibo (separately) would celebrate Christmas with their human soulmate? ;) 🎄

Christmas🎄 with Kokushibou and Muzan (Headcanons)

In these headcanons, reader is in a relationship with their preferred demon😁

Kokushibou + First things first, he would cook a lot + He loves to cook and you'll have so much food that you don't know what to do with it + He's taken the time to know what you like so everything will be a mixture of your favourite foods and his + He'll make dishes that are customary for your culture and country, especially sweets + Considering the time period and culture he's from, he'll follow your lead most of the time + He figures that it's more your holiday than his, so he wants to respect the way you do things and make it enjoyable/special for you + He'd wear a santa hat and look adorably goofy in it + When it comes to a Christmas tree, he's kind of a perfectionist. The two of you decorated it together but he's always changing his mind on where he wants things or what ornaments he wants to be more visible + He may accidentally knock down the tree while adjusting something😅 and he'd get really embarrassed + If you have chocolate candies on the tree (in Hungary we have these wrapped up chocolates called szaloncukor that you can hang on the tree) he would eat them when passing by. He thinks he's sneaky but he really is very obvious about it + He would want to surprise you with something he knew that you were looking at during the year. But, it wasn't much of a surprise because in recent months when he saw you looking at something at a store, he'd ask you "Hmm ... so, do you like that?" + It became pretty clear of what he might get for you, but you know that he was trying to surprise you, so you act surprised and it makes him smile and blush + At the end of the night, you end up cuddling together and falling asleep on the couch with the Christmas lights on

Muzan + Can you say "imports"? + He buys all this stuff from all over the world to have around -- decorations, foods, liquors + He's obsessed with panettone and gets some really expensive kind that he orders online + He wants to have a fancy party type of event, but with just the two of you + You both dress up really nice and elegantly, and Muzan sets up the house in candlelight so that it's extra intimate and romantic + He doesn't cook, but he orders various deliveries from different fine restaurants in the area + You end up getting a lot of designer items from him, however a good portion of them are more along the lines of "what he thinks you should like" rather than what you would have chosen for yourself + His taste isn't bad, though, so you're pretty satisfied + He would take a lot of pictures and videos of the two of you that he'd keep private for himself + He really enjoys having a little party because he didn't get to do that kind of stuff when he was human + He laughs and smiles a lot + There's always music playing in the background -- not necessarily Christmas music but classical music or jazz that adds to the atmosphere + He gets more touchy and affectionate as the night goes on + It definitely ends in some good sex

[umichenginabroad]

San Sebastián or Bus(t)

Week 9

Due to very very very unfortunate circumstances that you will soon understand, I've been behind in making my blog post. Sorry everyone, I know how much my content is loved! The weekend was quite an experience that I will definitely never forget but it's something to laugh about now and makes for a good story. I'm pretty much just going to jump right into it because for most of last week I was kind of sick and didn't really do much in preparation for...Milan! As this was our last long weekend, we wanted to cross another country off the bucket list and enjoy some of the delicious food Italy has to offer. Here begins a thrilling saga of events...

Don't trust the bartender, or the weather

Right when Diego, Jayashree, and I landed at the Malpensa Airport, it was sweltering. I knew that Italy would be hot but even with that in mind I couldn't prepare myself for this. I'm not one for the extreme temperatures in the first place, and I for sure took for granted the 60-70 degree weather San Sebastián has to offer. After a minor mishap with waiting for a bus to take us to the center of Milan, we eventually made it and took a pitstop for some much needed pizza and gelato (we made it our goal to eat as much pizza, pasta, and gelato as we could during this trip). The metro had conveniently taken us right up to the Duomo di Milano, which is the biggest cathedral in Milan taking nearly six centuries to build! We also walked through part of Italy's oldest active shopping gallery: Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II which features a lot of designer stores and has an insanely pretty ceiling.

By then, we were exhausted. Walked to our airbnb in the Navigli district which is a nice and vibrant area by the canal. Our host was super sweet and left us some water along with a whole bottle of prosecco since she told us that she loves sharing her favorite drink with travelers. After resting up, we decided to eat at a place called pasta fresca where their philosophy is only serving different handmade pastas each day (no desserts, no appetizers, no drinks, solely pasta). We thought it tasted great and was by far some of the freshest pasta I've had in my days. Took a walk by the water for a bit before heading over to a place that I found called the smallest bar. You might think this is an exaggeration but it quite literally was just a box in the wall with an anonymous bartender behind it. Jayashree ended up choosing a drink from the list but I ended up going with the "trust the bartender" special. *NEWSFLASH* do NOT trust the bartender. I wish I could describe to you what I tasted but I don't even have the right words to do that. Just listen to me when I say that it made my body take a screenshot every time I took a sip. I've never had a visceral reaction as unique as that one, so for that I give this a hearty rating of -1/10 stars (but I still think the bar was cute so I bump it up to a 3/10).

A flavorblast of mango, chocolate, and vanilla gelato!

Pull up to Backdoor 43 for a surprise (if you're up for the risk)

The sights, sounds, and rabbit holes of Milan

On our second day, the gang split up to do separate solo trips. Jayashree went to Switzerland, Diego to Florence, and yours truly stayed put in Milan. I was actually pretty excited to just go off on my own and do things that the others wouldn't have been as interested in. This was also more of a solo mission for me since I had a lot planned to fully seize the day. Starting bright and early, I went to a cafe by the airbnb to get a slice of panettone and pass by some basilicas on my way to the Castello Sforzesco (a very old military citadel). One of them that I walked by is actually home to the Last Supper painting (how cool!). In front of the castle is a park called Parco Sempione which has its own mini version of the Arc de Triomphe, along with a statue of Napoleon, a small pond, and maybe a fountain of youth? Once I got to the castle, I spent some time walking around the castle museums seeing some old furniture, various tapestries, many paintings of Saint Sebastian (shoutout!) and the crucifixion, oddly enough one of Galileo's last remaining compasses, a ceiling once worked on by Da Vinci, and the famous Rondanini Pietà by Michelangelo. I really liked the museum since it wrapped around pretty much the entirety of the castle, so I was able to visit some spaces that can't be seen if you're just passing through the castle grounds on the outside.

The Rondanini Pietà was the last work that Michelangelo ever created, just six days before he died and remains unfinished

Kind of random but I thought the story of the artist was interesting. Apparently he loved making large-scale sculptures that were super lifelike, such as this crab. However, he ended up getting crushed by one of his sculptures since it fell on top of him :(

One museum wasn't enough for me so my next stop was the Pinacoteca di Brera, which is basically the central hub for any and all Italian paintings. The Brera district itself is also known for being very artsy so walking through there was cute and fun. Napoleon really wanted the museum to become "The Louvre of Italy" and while it does have a large collection of art, it is sadly nowhere near the scale of the Louvre (so sorry Napoleon but you picked quite the challenge). There is a large sculpture dedicated to him in the museum's largest room, and I'll share a little about that because it's a bit silly. So Napoleon had a sculptor make a life-like (I think it looks more like a glammed up version of him but to each their own) statue of himself in full French clothing. However, the sculptor refused since he said the French trousers and boots were too goofy looking, which is now why the statue is fully nude. Moving on from that aside, I enjoyed this museum since they prioritize showing to the people what the process of art restoration and handling is like. In-between exhibits, they showcase these areas that are fully see-through of where the conservators work along with the machinery they use. Also, they show their art storage rooms and continuously rotate pieces so that there are more well-known artists such as Raphael or Hayez with other artists who deserve the respect. I've never seen a museum do something like this before and like their thinking!

Art restoration in the works!

I have to admit I was museum-fatigued after this and desperately needed something to drink. I had been sweating since 9 am, ran out of water, and just needed to chill for a bit. In this predicament, I ended up going to this place called the Rabbit Hole Cafe which was decked out with Alice in Wonderland themed decor. Hats on the ceiling, the caterpillar and cheshire cat on the wall, and just all these very cute details which really gave into the aesthetic. I ordered a wonder spritz which tasted exactly what I would think a drop of whimsy would taste like. All in all, I had a magical experience there despite my battles with heat exhaustion and delirium.

Follow your cake and follow your dreams, now that's something to live by

Wedding Crashers and Plans Crashing

For the final day in Milan we only had a few things left on the agenda to do. Reunited after our solo trips, we started off with going inside the Duomo and saw the absolutely incredible architecture, breath-taking stained glass, and wickedly talented sculptures. After seeing the Sagrada Familia, I don't think that I can or should compare the two. Each are special in their own ways and in general just marvels of construction. From there, we went back to the shopping mall where Diego told us of the Legend of the Milan Bull, which is where you spin three times on a mosaic tile of a bull while placing your heel on its testicle...don't ask me why I don't really know. Anyways, the three turns are supposed to be for bringing good fortune, finding love, and to return to Milan in the future.

Oh great Milan Bull, do your magic

We went for lunch to Luini's for some fire panzerottis, then trotted on over to another church in order to see its ossuary. I may have messed up the directions since we ended up in the church next to it on accident and witnessed a wedding taking place. We decided to sit in on it (hey, there were a lot of open seats, the door was open, and we figured we might as well). Happy marriage to the new couple! Huzzah! Found our way to the right church afterwards and got to see what I can describe as the catacombs above ground. It was super bizarre since the walls were lined with skulls and bones nearly reaching the ceiling. Felt a bit eerie in there so we didn't stay for too long.

Anddd that's a wrap! Didn't do much else besides take our bus to the airport and wait to take off. If you think the story ends here, I really wish you were right but you're unfortunately so wrong. I'm about to take you through the most crazy 44 hours I've ever experienced and hope to never experience again. This was a test of my limits, my gumption, and perseverance.

Just for reference, this is us when we still had some light in our eyes and hope in our hearts. Blissfully unaware of what fate had in store

Stranded in the Airport Challenge (NOT CLICKBAIT!)

Everyone by now knows of the Microsoft outage that took the world by storm and broke it all. Planes, trains, buses, businesses, hospitals, etc. were all affected and really shows how much we depend on software nowadays. While waiting, we would check out flight and see to our dismay that it kept getting delayed. Didn't think much of it since other flights were still able to take off and due to the Microsoft situation this was something to be expected. Diego ended up teaching us a card game called Golf which was a good time passer. At some point, we noticed that the screen didn't show our flight anymore, it literally just vanished with zero information as to what was going on. Now, slightly panicked, we went with a group of other anxious travelers only to find out that the flight was in fact cancelled and that we would have to find another solution for ourselves. The worst was upon us. Everything after this was straight chaos. We were on the phone with different hotels, searching up any available flights to not just Bilbao but all cities in Spain, as well as running around trying to find an employee with answers. The help desk was swarming with frantic energy and piles of people whose world was just turned upside down. Flights were either way too expensive or nonexistent, with none even showing up for Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday. Jayashree tried to get us an airbnb but the lady was super sketch and wanted 120 euros in the form of cash so we just ended up saying no to that option. With desperation and a bit of craziness I was searching up buses from Italy to Spain, as this was our best and probably only option. At first, a 26 hour bus ride seemed diabolical. In a state of affairs such as this, however, we had to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. 26 hours, are you insane, emily? Yes. We booked those tickets in a flash and then sat and wallowed in despair over what the next leg of the trip would bring us. On top of that, the airport had an affinity for attracting bugs so we were getting eaten alive as the scene unfolded around us. I think I might be allergic because mine were puffing up but surprise! I'm still alive and well so I should be okay. Our bus journey would start at noon on Sunday so until then, we figured that we would at least try and get some sleep. Set up camp with the other stragglers that the plane abandoned with nothing but our backpacks for pillows and my jacket as a blanket. While Jayashree and Diego did get some shuteye, I did not. Laying on the airport floor, surrounded by bugs, and still stressed from the news of our cancelled flight kept me awake. In a state of feverishness and sleep deprivation, I passed the time by making poorly edited memes of the situation and sharing the news with some friends on FaceTime (they definitely found me and the sitch to be very amusing). Later on in the morning after being awake for 24 hours, I did fall asleep on my bag in a chair until it was time to board our first bus.

Who needs purple mattress when the airport floor feels just as comfy as a cloud??

The Bus from Hell

I normally look forward to adventure, but this was an adventure that I didn't willingly want to embark on and would've avoided at all costs. Boarding that bus felt like selling my soul to an evil Mrs. Frizzle and her satanic magic school bus on a one way ticket to hangout with Hades. Our first stop was Turin, about an hour or so away from Milan. I was lucky enough to be placed behind a group of guys who wouldn't stop trying to flick each other in the head and cackling over their unfunny tiktoks. We were supposed to be in Turin for only an hour, but ended up getting delayed by two which really put me in a bad mood. I was beyond exhausted, still sweaty, felt gross, and pretty much only dined on fast food since the day before. All of us were out of it, but didn't take it out on each other which was good since a fight between us would've just made things worse. At long last, the transfer bus arrived in such a timely manner and took us to Grenoble, about four-ish hours away and featuring the mountains of Northern Italy. This was probably the only part of the trip that I semi-enjoyed since I've never seen mountains like this before in my life (and I have to admit that I wouldn't have seen this from a plane...). Even at my wits-end I can still appreciate some beautiful scenery.

We didn't stop long in Grenoble, and thankfully our last transfer bus was on time. By this point, I popped in some melatonin and was ready to konk out and just wake up in my bed back at Olarain. We really were God's strongest soldiers, but it was getting to the point where I would rather be anything else. Town crier, peasant, even court jester, anything that wouldn't make me do this trek back. I was sitting next to Diego on the bus and I kept waking up and falling asleep but still trying to talk to him. At one point I was laughing in my dream but it turned out that I was laughing in real life too, which probably made him super confused but I didn't have the brain capacity to explain. There really wasn't anything interesting on the 11 hour leg of this part back. We stopped a few times to pick up more passengers and then to eat at a rest stop, where I bought a shirt that says "I'm the king of BBQ" but all in French since I felt beyond gross and needed to change out of my shirt. Finally, we reached our homeland of San Sebastián where I nearly fell on my knees to the ground and kissed the soil. I don't think I would wish something like this on my worst enemy, and in my personal opinion I think it was harder than all of the labors of Hercules combined. I showed you the before picture, here's what we looked like after:

We lost a part of ourselves after this trip.

I only have one thing to say after this. Out of all the things that went out of control during this trip, one thing I could count on was me sweating nonstop 24/7.

Emily Dobao

Biomedical Engineering

IPE San Sebastian, Spain

July 25th, 2024

[daimonclub]

Christmas in Italy

Christmas in Italy Christmas in Italy, traditions, customs, habits, markets, an article that explains all about the Christmas period in Italy with also the famous panettone recipe. In Italy today, Christmas is a time for families coming together and with the recently acquired wealth, this coming together is a great excuse for a boom in buying (expensive) consumer goods especially for children who normally are at the centre of most of the festivities. Italy is very much a religious country and even with growing secularism, Christmas is very much a religious festival, with carol singing, live cribs, and decorated windows in the main stores. This also brings out little quirks in our attitude towards religious feast days. At Christmas families have awith usually plenty of tacky colourful lights and Santas and angels... not as simple and nice as the Christmas tree of Denmark!. Set up the nativity - usually under the tree - where baby Jesus will be added only on the night of the 24th after attending Mass ! This is, of course, for the true believers... It's a strong tradional habit to go to Mass on the 24th evening (hoping there will be a coir singing in tune!) Usually we do not eat that much on Christmas Eve (strangely enough...) but we will definitively have some panettone (typical Italian tall cake/brioche full of pieces of dried fruit) with some Prosecco / Italian Champagne. On the 25th the traditional starting course in Lombardia (region where I come from) is to have "cappelletti in brodo" (small filled tortellini , usually hand made if you have still a grandma that can cook, served in chicken stock). And then, of course, plenty more courses will follow! Presents are opened either on the 24th evening or 25th morning. One of the most important ways of celebrating Christmas in Italy is the Nativity crib scene. Using a crib to help tell the Christmas story was made very popular by St. Francis of Assisi in 1223 (Assisi is in mid-Italy). The previous year he had visited Bethlehem and saw where it was thought that Jesus was born. A lot of Italian families have a Nativity crib in their homes. Having cribs in your own home became popular in the 16th century and it's still popular today (before that only churches and monasteries had cribs). Cribs are traditionally put out on the 8th December. But the figure of the baby Jesus isn't put into the crib until the evening/night of December 24th! Sometimes the Nativity scene is displayed in the shape of pyramid which can be meters tall! It's made of several tiers of shelves and is decorated with colored paper, gold covered pinecones and small candles. A small star is often hung inside the top of the pyramid/triangle. The shelves above the manger scene might also contain fruit, candy and presents. The city of Naples in Italy is world famous for its cribs and crib making. These are known as 'Presepe Napoletano' (meaning Neapolitan Cribs). The first crib scene in Naples is thought to go back to 1025 and was in the Church of S. Maria del presepe (Saint Mary of the Crib), this was even before St. Francis of Assisi had made cribs very popular! One special thing about Neapolitan cribs, is that they always have extra 'every day' people and objects (such as houses, waterfalls, food, animals and even figures of famous people and politicians!). Naples is also the home to the largest crib scene in the world, which has over 600 objects on it! In Naples there is a still a street of nativity scene makers called the 'Via San Gregorio Armeno'. In the street you can buy wonderful hand made crib decorations and figures - and of course whole cribs!

Christmas in Naples Italy One old Italian custom is that children go out Carol singing and playing songs on shepherds pipes, wearing shepherds sandals and hats. On Christmas Eve, it's common that no meat (and also sometimes no dairy) is eaten. Often a light seafood meal is eaten and then people go to the Midnight Mass service. The types of fish and how they are served vary between different regions in Italy. When people return from Mass, if it's cold, you might have a slice of Italian Christmas Cake called 'Panettone' which is like a dry fruity sponge cake and a cup of hot chocolate! Here's a recipe for panettone. You can find out more about Christmas in Italy and Italian Christmas Recipes on this site. For many Italian-American families a big Christmas Eve meal of different fish dishes is now a very popular tradition! It's known as The Feast of the Seven Fishes ('Esta dei Sette Pesci' in Italian). The feast seems to have its root in southern Italy and was bought over to the USA by Italian immigrants in the 1800s. It now seems more popular in American than it is in Italy! Common types of fish eaten in the feast include Baccala (salted Cod), Clams, Calamari, Sardines and Eel.

Christmas in Italy nativity scene There are different theories as to why there are seven fish dishes eaten. Some think that seven represents the seven days of creation in the Bible, other say it represents the seven holy sacraments of the Catholic Church. But some families have more than seven dishes! You might have nine (to represent the Christian trinity times three), 13 (to represent Jesus and his 12 disciples) or 11 (for the 11 disciples without Jesus or Judas!)! The Christmas celebrations start eight days before Christmas with special 'Novenas' or a series of prayers and church services. Some families have a 'Ceppo' or Yule Log which is burnt through the Christmas season. In Italian Happy/Merry Christmas is 'Buon Natale', in Sicilian it's 'Bon Natali' and in Ladin (spoken in some parts of the northern Italian region of South Tyrol) it's 'Bon/Bun Nadèl'. Happy/Merry Christmas in lots more languages. Epiphany is also important in Italy. On Epiphany night, children believe that an old lady called 'Befana' brings presents for them. The story about Befana bringing presents is very similar to the story of Babushka. Children put stockings up by the fireplace for Befana to fill. In parts of northern Italy, the Three Kings might bring you present rather than Befana. On Christmas day 'Babbo Natale' (Santa Claus) might bring them some small gifts, but the main day for present giving is on Epiphany. The Italian Panettone A panettone (literally meaning "big loaf") is a tall, dome-shaped cake risen with yeast. It has a somewhat light and airy texture but a rich and buttery taste, and it's not very sweet. It's a typical Christmas-time cake all around Italy and in Italian communities around the world, but it originates in the northern Italian town of Milan. It traditionally contains raisins and candied fruit (orange and citron zest) and is topped with crisp pearl sugar. More modern versions might substitute the candied fruit with chocolate chips. Most Italians do not make panettone at home, for the simple reason that it is a rather lengthy and complicated process, requiring multiple risings. Usually, it is bought from a local baker or in a supermarket. But if you are feeling ambitious and would like to make your own, the following is a rather classic recipe. What You'll Need

Classic Italian panettone cake For the First Rising: 3/8 cup/90 g unsalted butter 5/8 cup/110 g sugar 4/5 cup/200 ml warm water 1/2 teaspoon fine salt 5 ounces/140 g? fresh yeast cake (or? biga; ask your baker for this) 6 egg yolks 3 1/3 cups/400 g flour For the Second Rising: 2 1/3 cups/280 g flour 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract 6 egg yolks 1 teaspoon honey 5/8 cup/110 g unsalted butter 1/2 pound/200 g raisins 1/2 cup/100 g granulated sugar 1/2 teaspoon fine salt A little flour, for dusting the work surface and Optional: pan? pearl sugar (for decoration) Optional: 1 cup candied orange and/or lemon peel, diced

Ingredients of Italian Panettone How to Make It The afternoon before you plan to bake the panettone, begin by cutting the butter into a small pot and melting it over a very low flame or a double boiler; keep it warm enough to remain melted. Dissolve the sugar in about 2/5 cup (100 ml) of warm water. Put the melted butter, salt, and yeast cake in a mixing bowl (or better yet, the bowl of an electric mixer) and mix well. Next, add the yolks and sugar-water, mixing briskly. Sift in the flour, continuing to mix. If the dough is too stiff, add a little more water. Continue to mix briskly for about 25 minutes, throwing the dough against the sides of the bowl, until it has become smooth, velvety, and full of air bubbles. At this point, transfer the dough to a lightly floured bowl large enough for it to triple in volume, cover it with a heavy cloth, and keep it in a warm (85 F, 30 C) place for about 10 hours. Wash the raisins, drain them well, and set them on a cloth to dry. When the first rising time is up, turn the dough out onto your work surface (or return it to the mixing bowl) and work in the flour, vanilla, yolks, and honey. Mix briskly for about a half hour, then work in all but 2 tablespoons of the butter, which you will have melted as before, and a little water (just enough to make an elastic dough), to which you have added a pinch of salt. Continue working the dough until it becomes shiny and dry, and at this point add the fruit and zest, working the dough to distribute it evenly. At this point you can divide the dough into pieces of the size you want; if you want to make your panettone by weight, use a scale and figure that they'll decrease in weight by 10% during baking. Lightly grease your hands with the butter and round the balls of dough, then put them on a board or plate and let them rise in a warm place for about a half hour. At this point, lightly butter your hands again and put the panettoni in panettone molds (or put rings of stiff paper around their bases). Return them to their board and put them in a warm (68-80 F, 20-30 C, depending upon the season), humid spot to rise for about 6 hours. Heat your oven to 380 F (190 C). Cut an x into the top of each panettone and put 2 tablespoons (30 g) unsalted butter over the cuts. Put the panettoni in the oven, and after 4 minutes remove them and quickly push down on the corners produced by the cuts. Return them to the oven and bake them until a skewer inserted into the middle comes out dry about 1 hour.

Christmas Italian panettone recipe When chefs remove their panettoni from the oven, they put them upside down in special panettone holders to keep their flanks from collapsing. In a home situation, this is not practical, and you'll simply have to cool your panettoni on a rack. Some tips: Work the dough, if possible, with a standing dough mixer of the kind also used for making bread dough. Beating times with a mixer are on the order of 20 minutes, whereas hand-beating will require about 50. The room where the panettone is made must be warm, about 72 degrees F (22 C). The flour should also be warm, about 68 F (20 C); what's used is 00 grade (very fine all-purpose flour) and extremely dry. If it has been wet where you are, you may want to dry your flour in an oven, as it absorbs moisture unless it is tightly sealed. The water used should be warm, about 76 F (24 C). Don't forget a pinch of salt, because it stimulates rising. Commercial bakers use a sourdough starter (i.e., wild yeast). Home recipes call for baker's yeast. The baking time will depend on the size of the panettone. Assuming an oven temperature of 400 F (200 C), half an hour will be sufficient for small to medium-sized panettoni, whereas larger ones will require considerably more. Home ovens are best suited to small-medium-sized panettoni. If you want the surface of the panettone to be shiny, slip a bowl of water into the oven when the panettone is half-baked to raise the humidity. Commercially sold panettoni are taller than they are broad. To obtain this effect at home, you'll have to put a ring of heavily buttered thick paper around the dough when you put it in the oven or use a panettone mold . If you instead want a panettone that's wider than it is high, like a normal bread loaf, simply put the dough in the oven. If you choose this course, you will want to put the dough on a pizza stone or similar. Read also our other posts on Christmas; Read also our other posts on Christmas; Christmas markets in England ; Christmas markets in Italy and Germany ; Christmas quotes ; 60 great Christmas quotes ; Christmas tree origin and quotes ;  Ella Gray A Christmas story ; Traditional Christmas Carols ; Christmas short stories ; Christmas jokes ; Christmas cracker jokes ; Funny Christmas Stories ; Amusing Christmas stories ; Christmas food ; Christmas thoughts ; Christmas story ; Christmas in Italy ; Christmas holidays ; Christmas songs ; Christmas poems ; An Essay on Christmas by Chesterton ; Read the full article

[theuniversalscat]

Kari: Lord Honey…. Is that an aristocrat from the medieval period?

Universe: No. That’s a saying in the south.

Kari: What’s it mean?

Universe: it means that his food tastes so good that you will want to slap everyone in the face a lot.

Kari: That sounds a bit violent.

Universe: It’s a figure of speech.

Kari: what shape?

Universe: oblong.

Kari: Got it. I like him. He has a nice fach.

Universe: For all of us, “non Italians” what’s that mean?

Kari: Face.

Universe: Got it.

Kari: So his food is so good that it will cause riots in the streets and mass hysteria all over the globe?

Universe: He’s hoping, yes.

Kari: ok. Cool.

Universe: He’s a home baker, Kari. You ready to get your booty in gear and grab the granny by her pearls and open the can of whoopie pie on this adventure in baking?

Kari: when you put it that way, no. But I would be willing to give it a go, because the way my Ma teaches me to bake is the “5 minute” way.

Universe: What’s that?

Kari: Well, it’s “…let’s stand by the oven and check the thing you’re baking every five minutes til it’s done.” And, to me there’s a few issues with that. 1. I like to sit. 2. Sometimes you can’t see the side down to know if the freaking thing is done or not, and 3. Too many check ups. I mean, I don’t even go to the doctor that often, ok? I don’t get that many check ups! And here I am checking and checking and 45 minutes later that’s 22.1 checks on the thing I’m baking and it’s like, I feel like I have better things to do. For example, I like sit and ruminate and complain but not about my lack of baking skills. Not peek through an extremely opaque oven glass with the light on where everything looks brown anyway.

Universe: how often do you clean your oven?

Kari: not very.

Universe: Then maybe you should invest in his book.

Kari: it’s on my Christmas list.

Universe: Good plan. On a separate note, are you ok with opening presents early?

Kari: It depends.

Universe: on what?

Kari: if it’s timely then it’s necessary. Like if you give me a delicious panettone I’d want to eat it right away otherwise it goes stale. If it’s a fruit cake I’ll get to it in about 6 years…

Universe: Yes, no, not a fruitcake.

Kari: Good, because I’m trying to eat keto esque.

Universe: A panettone isn’t keto esque.

Kari: Oh I know! It’s one of those desserts I have to try regardless. Too many panettones, no fitting in my pantaloons.

Universe: yes.

Kari: Ok, well, if this guy’s cookbook isn’t from the Middle Ages I think I’d like to try the recipes, because I don’t think I’d like the hygienic practices of baking in the Middle Ages. I’d rather not die of dysentery, as a lot of tshirts say now a days oddly enough.

Universe: Yes, Jason bakes from the heart, not any other way.

Kari: Well that’s a relief, although with his washed hands would be even more hygienic… 😉💦👏

Universe: Yes. It would.

Stephen Hawking: Please excuse my friend Kari, as she has an interpretation that is part literalist, and part silly.

Kari: Stephen, I adore you, but you’re an odd choice for a button on this scene…

Stephen: I was the only one left in this conversation. Everyone that heard that Jason baked with his heart, fled. I, myself, am not interested in trying bakery.

Kari: oh no….. 🙈🤷‍♀️🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Scene.

Appendices-

Universe: we’re not telling her that her gift is her better mood from having written about a nice person.

Kari: I already opened that gift! And I liked it better than a monkey likes a banana cream pie on a blazing hot southern Kentucky day if he visits from his home town in the Southern most part of the Amazon Rain Forest!

Scene scene. 👏💝

[snackhobi]

this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested.  It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose  at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.) 

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.) 

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist. 

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle. 

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.) 

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back. 

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power. 

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it. 

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

 “Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall. 

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond. 

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it. 

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron. 

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi. 

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner.  There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.  

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway. 

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out. 

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot. 

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire. 

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway. 

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary. 

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. 

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting. 

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you. 

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else. 

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it. 

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright. 

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you. 

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.) 

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung. 

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth. 

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to. 

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up. 

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say. 

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really. 

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists. 

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.” 

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor. 

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn. 

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed. 

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad. 

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

“I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee. 

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is. 

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

 “Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say. 

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all. 

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice. 

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity. 

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think. 

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand. 

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?” 

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say. 

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​ @vensulove

[kngcrms]

La Squadra baking a cake/dessert(for you).

(GN!Reader,fluff,crack,SFW)

Risotto

Knows what he's doing.

Still follows a recipe tho.

Probably doesn't even bother using an oven.

Makes something like a cheesecake or tiramisu.

Zones out when mixing ingredients.

Probably acts as if he's murdering someone.

Really good cake tho.

Pink,sparkly apron.

When it's time for cleaning it's a whole other story.

Especially when you're on your way home.

The vacuum is his only hope.

9.5/10 cake, probably put too much sugar.

Prosciutto

Lord help him.

Used to watch his mother bake cakes,but never really had the chance or time to bake one himself.

Especially for you.

Wants to make something grandiose.

Gets angry over too many ingredients.

"It's just a cake!Why does it need so many thing?!"

Calls Pesci over for help.

Ends up making a red velvet cake.

Lost all hope and doesn't decorate it.

The whole house smells like burnt cake mix.

If Pesci wouldn't have come to help, Prosciutto would most likely cry from stress.

6/10,quite bland.

Formaggio

Learned to bake from his nonno.

Actually really skilled.

Doesn't really bother with decorating,but it still looks good.

Memorized a few recipes.

Probably bakes a panettone since it's easy and cute.

The house smells so good aw lawd.

Some neighbours pass by to have a glimpse of this man's baking.

You get that old grandparents house nostalgia.

Old Italian songs play in the background.

Even if he has 100 cats in his house,there is no fur in anything.

Bakes early in the morning.

10000/10 you beg him to bake everyday.

Illuso

If there was an award for having no clue how to bake, Illuso would have plenty.

Can't follow a recipe.

Makes tiramisu but puts too much coffee.

Woke up at 7 to make it but it's already 5 pm and he's still attempting.

Somehow,one ended up burnt.Don't ask him how.

The kitchen is a mess-there is tiramisu cream on the wall,the fridge is full of sad attempts and the sink filled with cups.

Makes a successful cup for the first time and drops the cup on his way to your room.

Cries.

Hard.

Ends up stealing a cup of tiramisu from a bakery and hives it to you.

3.5/10 for trying

Pesci

The only one who truly knows how to bake.

Makes you cannoli's.

They turn out d e l i c i o u s.

You cry from how good they are and Pesci thinks you don't like them.

P a n i k.

Cleans after himself so bonus points 👏😔.

Probably teaches you how to make them.

Inherited his baking skills from his mother.

Kind of fed up with Prosciutto calling him to help him with baking or cooking something.

Lives a few blocks away from the base so like the rest smell his masterpiece and run to his place like wild animals.

And of course they eat everything,but leave some for the two of you.

∞/10.

Melone

Mediocre skills.

Cheesecake maybe.

Follows a simple recipe and maybe gets some of his juniors to help him out.

They don't.

Really happy with the final results but the juniors somehow got biscuits and jam smeared on the floor and walls.

Instant regret.

Has no idea what to do so he tries to wipe it off but it gets even dirtier.

You scold him but forgive him since the dessert is good.

Never gets his stand and food together ever.

I'f you're at work, he'll drive there and deliver it to you <3.

8/10 too much jam but it's nice.

Ghiaccio

Do you... actually...trust him in the kitchen..?

Like fr?

Really?

Saw some cooking shows,assumed they were easy and that he could make something for you.

He couldn't really because he didn't know how to use your oven.

Calls you for instructions.

Will make a strawberry shortcake but once it comes out of the oven,if looks so burnt omg.

Goes berserk and starts rage cooking idk how to explain it.

So angry he doesn't even see what he's cooking but somehow it looks ok and he's like all relieved and stuff.

You can see a spark in his eyes he's so proud.

8.5/10,needs a little more sugar.

The kitchen is trashed and he won't clean after himself </3.

Sorlato

Power rangers.

Start baking a whole ass bakery.

But half of it is kind of burnt so they try to make small cakes.

Gelato almost set the kitchen on fire two times already.

Sorbet can't use a mixer even if he was threatened with a gun.

They somehow nail it and still get everything right.

They get distracted and the second layer of the cake gets burnt.

"OHHH NOOOO!!"

If you're away,get ready to come to a table full of desserts and the kitchen smelling like burnt rubber.

Everything turns out good,but you have to tell at them for burning the kitchen ceiling and destroying your oven.

A rough 9/10

[solartranslations]

AF2 Common 12/6: Luca’s Birthday

Another year is nearing its end. “That day” is just around the corner…

~*Scene: Hallway*~

Debito: Bambina, do you know what day it is tomorrow?

Felicita: Yeah…it’s Luca’s birthday

Luca: Ahh…Ojou-sama, you remembered

Pace: You’re so loved, Luca-chan!

Luca: Yes. I’m so glad. I’m really happy to have lived this long…

Felicita: Luca…you’re being overdramatic

Debito: Oh, you knew. I thought Luca would have been all “my birthday isn’t that important…” and never told you

Luca: I’ve lived with her for 13 years. It would be weird if she didn’t know. We’ve celebrated it every year

Debito: Now you’re bragging?

Pace: You shouldn’t do that!

Luca: Ehem. In any case, I’m not that secretive

Pace: Really? You look like you hide a ton of things under that hat

Luca: My hat…? How could I hide things under it?

Debito: Well, Luca-chan being weird is normal. So we can just go all out

Pace: Oh? Should we shoot some fireworks?

Luca: Are you two planning something?

Debito: You’ll see tomorrow

Felicita: Debito…?

~*Scene: Hallway*~

Felicita: [The next day, Debito told me to come to the dining room]

Felicita: (I hear a weird sound whenever I get close to the dining room…I wonder what it is—)

(*splat)

Felicita: That sound again…

~*Scene: Dining Room*~

Pace: Ojou! You’re here

Debito: Oh, right on time

Felicita: On time…?

Martha: Here they are. Okay don’t just stand there, let’s line them up on the table

Luca: Yes, let’s. Especially you, Pace. This was your idea, so get to work

Debito: You’re working hard even though it’s your birthday. I’ve never heard of a guy who would make himself dolce

Luca: Isn’t that because I’m the only who knows how to make them

Felicita: There’s so many limone pies…are you eating all of them?

Pace: Of course not! We couldn’t eat this many

Debito: Not very believable coming from the person who usually orders 20 or 30 servings

Pace: Not true, I know my limits. 20 servings is just right for me!

Felicita: I don’t think normal people eat that much…

Luca: Actually, these giant limone pies aren’t for eating—

(*smirk)

Pace: Yeah, not for eating…they’re for this! Hiyah!!

Felicita: Huh…?

Luca: Ojou-sama, watch out!

(*step) Debito: Hya!

(*throw)

Luca: Wha!? Bwah…

(*splat) (*collapse)

Debito: Pace…you almost hit Bambina

Debito: Are you okay? Oh, you got some cream on you there

Debito: Should I clean it off for you?

(*blush) Felicita: N-no!

Pace: Come on Debito, more! I get wanting to shield Ojou though

Felicita: !

Pace: Ehehe, ‘cause I feel the same! So Ojou, catch this!!

Felicita: Pace!?

(*dash) Luca: No you will not! Now it’s my turn!

(*catch)

Pace: Uwa, not good!

(*throw) (*splat)

Debito: Ah Pace, minus 1 for you

Luca: *sigh*…that was close. You can’t aim at Ojou-sama while I’m down!

Debito: There’s no rule against it. Since Bambina’s here, that means she’s playing too

Luca: Please don’t get Ojou-sama involved in such a dangerous game

Pace: Oh? Did it fall off already? That white beard looked good on you, Luca

Debito: You’re right, it was all white and fluffy. Should we give you another one? A man in his thirties has to at least have a beard

Luca: No thank you! And a white beard is for the elderly, not someone in their thirties!

Pace: There’s old men with beards that aren’t white too these days

Luca: That’s not the point…

Debito: Sure you want to keep talking?

Luca: If it’s what you want, then I won’t hold back!!

Debito: Get him, Pace!!

Pace: Okaaay!

Luca: I’ll throw from here next then! Hyah!

Debito: Oh that’s you’re plan! Take this!

Pace: Hiyah!!

(*splat splat)

Luca: Bweh… why are you two a team! That’s against the rules!

Debito: Never heard of that rule, have you, Pace?

Pace: Nope, haven’t

Luca: Debito, Pace…

Luca: …Pace, if you team up with me I’ll make you a turkey feast for lunch tomorrow!

Pace: Say that again!

Luca: And I’ll throw in a nice, fluffy panettone too! (TN: a kind of sweet bread)

Pace: Deal!!!

Debito: You’re betraying me!

Pace: I just act on instinct! Hiyaah!

Martha: Goodness, those three always act like children no matter how old they get. Ojou-sama is much more of an adult

Martha: But fun times do go by too quickly. So it’s best to enjoy yourself when you can

Felicita: Yeah, you’re right. Martha, I’ll join in too…!

(*running)

Martha: Go and get them!

~*Scene: Dining Room*~

Felicita: So tired…

Luca: I really didn’t think you would join in, Ojou-sama

Pace: It’s fun when Ojou joins!

Debito: If the Maid Triad doesn’t come soon, I’ll want us to take a bath too…

Pace: Yup!

Luca: That will not happen!

Felicita: …

Felicita: Do you always celebrate like this?

Luca: No, the three of us didn’t start celebrating together until recently

Pace: Yeah. Since you were living with Ojou and Mama, we weren’t together as often as we are now

>It seems like you’d do more than just celebrate for Debito

(+20 Amore Debito)

>Would you eat a lot for your birthday, Pace?

(+20 Amore Pace)

>That must have been hard, Luca…

(+20 Amore Luca)

Debito: Are you interested in my birthday, Bambina?

(*smirk) Debito: I’ll tell you all about it if you come visit me on my birthday

Debito: But you have to come alone, okay?

Pace: Hey Debito, no keeping her to yourself!

Luca: Agreed! I will not allow you and Ojou-sama to be alone together!

Debito: Shut up, third wheelers…

Pace: The lasagna party we had was the best so far. It was so fun!

Debito: I think you were the only one who had fun

Pace: We celebrated my birthday last year with a table full of lasagna. Being surrounded by lasagna was so great…

Pace: I’m happy just remembering it!!

Luca: Making all those was definitely not fun though

Luca: I was making one lasagna after another…I’m going to try just thinking about it

Luca: We don’t actually throw a big celebration every year

Luca: I think we did a “limone fight” last year, and a “zuccotto fight” the year before that?

Pace: It feels good to throw things, doesn’t it? And it’s your birthday, so we have to do something memorable

Debito: The weirder it is, the more memorable, right?

Luca: You��re saying that now, but we only do it because you two want to fool around!

Debito/Pace: Yup

Luca: Seriously…it’s starting to become a tradition for me to make sweets for myself

Luca: But I’m happy that you two want to celebrate with me

Debito: But the reason we make such a big deal about it is because of her, right?

Pace: The governor of Nordia, Agata! Right?

Felicita: Nordia…Agata…

Luca: Yes. I don’t believe you’ve met her, Ojou-sama. But she’s a very wise and strong woman

Pace: Yup, very strong. Even I’d lose to her if I’m not careful

Debito: Yeah. Agata’s whip deals quite a bit of damage

Felicita: Wh-whip!? …She sounds like quite something

Luca: She’s strict when it comes to discipline and manners, but she know how to have fun too

Pace: If she heard about our limone pie fight, I’m sure Agata would want to join in too

Felicita: She would?

Debito: She revived her domain by sponsoring a festival or something actually

Debito: We wouldn’t make this much of a fuss if she hadn’t stuck her nose in

Felicita: Amazing… So she’s both proactive and fun-living…

Luca: You might get to meet her if you get the chance

Felicita: Yeah

Pace: But anyway, that limone pie fight was so fun! I can’t believe I hit Luca right in the face!

Debito: I wish I could have seen you with that beard a little more

Luca: Once is enough, thank you! And you kept aiming at my face after that…

(*smile) Felicita: *laugh*

Luca: Ojou-sama…?

Pace: Haha Luca-chan. Ojou’s laughing at you

Debito: It’s because your beard was so funny. We really should hit him with a pie again

Luca: No thank you! And that’s not why you’re laughing anyway, right Ojou-sama?

Felicita: I want to do this next year too. The four of us together…

Luca: Ojou-sama…. Yes, of course. All four of us

Pace: My birthday’s next, so let’s have a lasagna fight! Ah, that’s be a waste though…

(*smirk) Debito: I’ll pass on anything loud. So let’s make it just the two of us instead

Debito: For Bambina, I’ll make it a night you won’t forget

Luca: We’ll have neither! Next time we’ll celebrate our birthdays by eating sweets in a normal way

Debito/Pace: No thanks

Luca: What! Why!?

Felicita: *smile*

~*Scene: Dining Room*~

Pace: Today we’re celebrating Luca-chan’s birthday. The most understanding and considerate man in the family, and Ojou-s attendant

Pace: Luca, happy birthday!!

Debito: Yeah I’ll say it. Happy birthday

Felicita: Happy birthday, Luca

Luca: Debito, Pace…Ojou-sama. Thank you so much!

Debito: Don’t cry, Luca. Seriously, how are you a Regalo man?

Pace: Ehehe, you’re such a crybaby Luca-chan. I’m still happy though

Luca: I am not crying. It’s just so surprising

Luca: …Nevermind. I’m happy. Thank you

Felicita: Luca…

Debito: Pace, anything else?

Pace: Oh right! Ehem, okay everyone, get your glasses ready!

Pace: May our bonds with Luca-chan be eternal—

Pace/Debito/Felicita: Salute!

Luca: Salute!

~*End of Scene*~

(Continue to Debito Chapter 1)

(Continue to Common Event Lesson 2 (Pace Route))

(Continue to Luca Chapter 2)

(Back to Directory)

[aspirinaeffervescente]

Here is a nice (and Accurate) Christmas story. Or: how I discovered Good Omens and interesting detail we only discovered today.

 So, strange to say but I discovered Good Omens thanks to my father. It was the early 2000s, and I was just a toddler. My father has always tried to learn English for work, and an old professor advised him to read simple books to better learn the construction of sentences and idioms. So he bought some books, including Good Omens. Despite the religious theme (which divides my family from generations, which is a lot of fun because my parents are atheists, but the rest of them is half lively Catholic and half Muslim) it soon became his favorite book. So, five years ago, for Christmas, he gave me the English and Italian versions (Buona apocalisse a tutti!) Now, now. This is a lovely anecdote because it brought us very close, made us laugh, I also dragged my best friend in this hyper fixation for Crowley and Aziraphale, I saw my father cry for the first time ("Davide, is Crowley played by David Tennant?? Let me die now, I can’t handle all this” or "Don't tell your mother but I would kill for a candlelit dinner with Nanny Ashtoreth") So Good Omens is a fantastic book, damned funny and surprisingly deep and we love it madly. But there is something strange in the Italian version that for years has been the centre of our theories. (at this point my mother and brother also joined in the great discussion.) In the Italian version, Crowley isn’t a Demon but a Devil. (For this reason, there was also the theory that Crowley could be Lucifer.) It's a strange thing why not translate "Demon" to "Demone"? It would have been more accurate. Yesterday evening we were having dinner with our grandparents. After eating (Much, too much, as usual for a large southern Italian family haha), we started talking about the same topic, churning out theories with our cousins ​​because, the poor fools, had said to have seen the mini-series and that he liked it. (literally, they didn’t know what they got into, poor souls.) We start with the discussion, "Why is Crowley a devil in the Italian version?" 

And then it happens. Suddenly my grandmother looks at us seriously, listens carefully to the whole conversation, and between a Marsala and a slice of Panettone she says: "Well, did you say that this bloke of the book is a fallen angel?" And we "Yes!" And my grandmother “Then it's normal. Traditionally demons are spirits that can be both good and bad, devils are the angels who fell with Satan." 

We all remain dead silent. I look at this old woman who looks like an adorable doll, she is so cute and sweet. At one point, my father stutters "And how do you know?!"

(Theories that my grandmother is actually a witch meanwhile increased.)

[blackivory-27]

I'm bored and life is shit. Please tell me stuff about your Edsona. If he were in Hogwarts which would be his house and which would be his favourite subject? What kinda clothes does he wear? Does he like Christmas? If he lived in Game of Thrones which family would he be part of? Does he like gothic/dark novels like Dracula or Frankenstein? How was your day? Are you in a christmas mood? Or a Hanukkah mood? Or another mood? Have a nice day.

Oh man, I'm sorry life is so bad man, lemme try to cheer you up!

If he were in Hogwarts he'd be a Slytherin - trust me, he looks nice and he tries his best to be good but don't make him angry, and don't try to touch his family.

His favourite subject would be Alchemy, obviously, but also Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, because he has a morbid curiousity about everything dangerous and terrible. He would never use any dark spells, or even worse curses, but he's not above hexes and jinxes just to piss others off or to pester those that bother him.

As for what he wears, he's very casual - t-shirts and hoodies, jeans and sneakers are his to-go outfit, but they're either super-plain or super-elaborate. He can wear solid colours or flaming hoodies with skulls or even multi-colour t-shirts with countless fluo tints and weird patterns of any kind - he just buys anything no matter how much it hurts his own eyes, or other people's. He wears whatever he finds pleasant, but what 'pleasant' is is up for debate.

He LOVES Christmas, because he was BORN on Christmas! His house is decorated as soon as Halloween is over, with lights everywhere, the tree shining in the living room, a garland on the front door, fake presents wrapped to put under the tree until the real ones he got for his family and friends take their place, everything tinted red, green and gold. He takes any occasion he has to go and invite people over to eat food and special sweets from Italy, especially chocolate Panettone and Pandoro.

I've never watched GoT, and neither did he, but I don't think he'd fit too well into that world because he has a big policy of not killing, and he doesn't care much for personal gain. He does like the symbol with the Dragon (is it a dragon?), so he'd probably go for that one out of pure aesthetic.

He loves gothic novels, and Frankenstein is one of his favourites. He still has to read Dracula, but reading isn't his forte if he doesn't fall into some kind of hyperfocus for it. He's trying to start again though, he hopes he can read a lot more.

Now, onto me! My day was pretty good, I still have to go and run a few errands, but as of now it's been very pleasant! I love Christmas too, and we're a little busy preparing the big feast we'll have on the 25th - and for the cakes we'll bake too! I just like the festivities because the whole city lights up, especially Rome - our city's Christmas tree is a little shitty, but hey, not everything can be perfect!

I hope things will get better for you, you can send me a message anytime if you want to talk!

[alphonseelriic]

Hi Sofia! ❤️ How is it going? Sorry I'm a little late! So much to do and so tired recently 🥲

Hope you enjoyed a bit of your free time!! When are you done done with finals? 👀

Gonna confess, Im a glutton for food so always happy to hear people talk about their fav food too 😆. I know pannettone!! But I've only tried the Italian version, not sure how different they are (but I'm also sure the homemade ones are always the best!). Do you cook/bake too? :O I love empanadas too but I think I only know the fried ones! I had to Google the other two, BUT Locro looks so hearty to have omg and the alfajores looks so soft and good?! I wanna try them! 🤤 Just talking about it makes me so hungry right now... I do hope you'll get to eat all your favs this holiday season!!

Hmm I like a lot of different food too! And trying different countries food is always exciting to me so I like a little of everything. My favs is usually Japanese dishes or asian ones but specifically—I LOVE duck (the chinese ones in particular but also the seared foie gras), grilled meat 😅, sushi, udon (noodles are usually always a win), korean fried chicken or karaage. Randomly, I also like al pastor tacos, a good sandwich (roast beef is my go to ^^ ), samosas, hot pot, most potato things, cheese in general esp. gouda or goat!... I'll stop now hahaha. Btw do you have any favorite drinks?

Aww Im glad you enjoyed getting to where you are now! Asjdkkdd I'm not sure if my field fits me, there's definitely times I question it but it's what I do for now 😂😭.

The books—I'm familiar with the first few (jane austen books we had to read those in school!) but not the rest so I'll have to look it up sometime!! I had no ides howls moving castle was also a book! I'm sad to hear reading for uni took away reading for fun 😭. I honestly haven't picked up a book in ages so I feel this tho. These days I just read fanfics, I wonder if you were ever into those? 👀

Ahhh please!! I too love a lot of the scenes you picked as a fav! OMG AL 😭 you make me want to do a rewatch again of fmab...and the train scene with ed/winry and that line he says totally has my heart. AND THE MOB PARTS!! When the OST came on for both of those scenes? It was the most perfect beautiful ones and that song is one of my favs! That's when I knew I /loved Mp100 haha. HQ ahh so many good moments right...hinata growing is always so heartwarming, but so are the rest of them 😭. Honestly I want to rewatch hq like at least every year LOL... the sxf ones too, I love bond and I didn't expect to love Damien but it's growing. You picked such great favs ahh, let's see what Santa can do with those. 😉

Btw I haven't mentioned this yet, but went through your edits and you have such pleasant sets. So I want to ask! Do you have a favorite kind of style either that others make or that you lean towards? What inspires you to create?

Thank you for indulging me again and talk soon!!

- Animanga 🎅

So nice to see you again, secret santa ❤️ please don't apologize!! I hope you're doing well despite everything you need to do :')

My last final was the 6th, so I'm already on vacations for a while! I'm actually with my family at the beach rn hahahaha

Heh I totally get you! I honestly have no idea if there's a difference between italian panettone and the one we eat here 🤔 Empanadas can be either fried or oven baked!! They have a lot of variations between each southamerican country, in places like Colombia for example they always eat them fried, but here it's more common to have them baked as far as I know! Yeah locro is really comforting, carefully crafted to eat during winter >:) the tradition is eating it on may 25th, one of our two patriotic dates. Alfajores are heavenly!! I'm pretty sure they aren't very easy to find in other countries but if you ever stumble upon them and you're craving something sweet, I couldn't recommend them enough!

My mom is a baker that works from home (studied it professionally and all) but I admit I'm not much of a baker/cook myself 😅 I do enjoy cooking and if I'm given a detailed recipe there's a good chance I'll do mostly good, but for some reason I'm not very drawn to the kitchen. I do want to start cooking more tho, I just don't have much initiative. What about you?

Ooohh I think I've never tried duck now that I think about it 🤔 I want to try it now!! I haven't had the chance to try a big amount of asian dishes but I loved the ones I did try <3 i also love sushi and noodles!! Ohh korean fried chicken sounds delicious! I went to a korean food fair a few weeks ago with some friends and my favorite were the tteokbokki and the bulgogi 🤤

Oh I also adore tacos and anything with potato and cheese in it LMAOOO honestly idk if i have favorite drinks, I mostly like cappuccino and hot cocoa. When it comes to cold drinks, I'm fine with water or diet coke. I also like freshly squeezed orange juice 🧡

Oh you read Jane Austen for school?? Lucky you! We didn't read anything remotely similar in my high school, and then in uni my english literature teacher didn't like her books so we didn't read them 😭 I ended up reading pride and prejudice for another completely different class later on, and now I'm reading sense and sensibility by myself!

Oh I do read some fanfics from time to time, but definitely not with the consistency most people on fandoms do. Once in a blue moon I get obsessed with a character or a ship during like one evening and then spend the rest of the night searching for fanfics. I have bad luck at finding ones that actually catch my attention so I don't do it often.

HAHAHA I'm glad you liked the scenes I chose! Resisting the temptation to rewatch fmab is a constant struggle really 😖 same for Haikyuu! Oh yeah mob's soundtrack also takes the cake, wouldn't be the same without it 💕 Damien also grew a lot in me! His crush on Anya is so adorable. Can't wait to see what Santa does ;)

Awww thank you! My edits mean a lot to me so I'm very happy you like them 🥹 ohh that's such a hard question!! I find all editing styles or technics to be great on their own right, but I personally lend more towards gifs and graphics with soft colors, with subtle patterns and textures, carefully put together quotes and well placed panels! Maybe my explanation is a bit abstract so these are some examples:

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/romancegifs-romancegifs-10k-followers-celebration/u4wogp3dgfbe

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/meqistus-look-at-me-i-will-never-pass-for-a/gbfxrdxw73fz

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/mazusu-assassination-its-the-family-trade-we/6o0wy6grzd58

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/suzouyas-grand-king-oikawa-tooru-%E5%8F%8A%E5%B7%9D-%E5%BE%B9-for/891elmqmjv49

Obviously this doesn't mean I don't like sets with stronger or vibrant colors!! As long as there's harmony between them, any color combos will be great :') I also love gifsets with big, clear and crispy gifs! You see a lot of them now that tumblr has updated their size limit lol

What inspires me to create is mostly the process, which I usually enjoy a lot (unless I'm creatively stuck, then not so much hahaha). I also love looking at other's creations and seeing if I can make something as beautiful! The challenges from animangacreators are also very helpful when I wanna make something and I don't know what ;)

That was a very nice talk!! See you again soon, my santa ❤️

[arplis]

Arplis - News: Celebrate the Epiphany with a Dreikönigskuchen or Swiss Three Kings Cake

This brioche-like cake is perfect for sharing, and whoever finds the hidden fève is crowned king for the day! Follow my Dreikönigskuchen recipe with step-by-step photos. Swiss Three Kings Cake If there is one thing that can chase the post-Christmas blues away, it is the knowledge that the Epiphany is just around the corner. Once all of the Gingerbread Men, Panettone and Fruit Mince Pies have been devoured in the lead-up to Christmas, one can then look forward to the joys of the Dreikönigskuchen to celebrate the Epiphany on 6 January. What is a Dreikönigskuchen? A Dreikönigskuchen is a Swiss Three Kings Cake. It is made of a sweetened enriched dough, often studded with raisins or chocolate chips, and baked in the shape of a crown. A fève is hidden inside one of the buns, and whoever finds the fève is crowned king for the day! It is a fun cake to share with family and friends, and it is also common for teams at work to celebrate together with a very large Dreikönigskuchen – you can buy some specially made with 15 or more buns! But don’t think that you need to enjoy a Dreikönigskuchen in big groups. In recent years, bakeries and supermarkets have been selling mini versions with just 3 buns, and which happen to be a nice treat for the kids to share at afternoon tea. And it goes without saying, the less buns, the greater the chance of winning the crown! Dreikönigskuchen vs Galette des Rois The Dreikönigskuchen is traditionally eaten in the German-speaking parts of Switzerland, hence the German name. In the French-speaking region of Switzerland, the French-style Galette des Rois is more common. Instead of a brioche-like dough, a Galette des Rois is instead a pie made from puff pastry with a layer of frangipane in the middle. One of my favourite bakeries in Zurich, Confiserie Sprüngli, actually sells a Dreikönigskuchen which sits on a bottom layer of hazelnut frangipane and puff pastry. For me, it is certainly the best of both worlds! Different Types of Fèves When eating a shop-bought Dreikönigskuchen or Galette des Rois, you are most likely going to find a white plastic fève inside. Some specialist bakeries use porcelain fèves, but these are quite rare. The traditional fèves depict a religious figure, which is not surprising, given that the cake is to mark a religious holiday. But in recent times, non-religious fèves have become quite popular, especially as a collector’s item among home cooks in France. I was once shopping in a French supermarket and found packets of ground almonds which were running a promotion and which came with different porcelain fèves depicting some of my kids’ favourite cartoon characters. Needless to say, I bought a lot of ground almonds that day! Alternatives to Fèves If you can’t find any porcelain fèves, simply use a large dried bean or even a coin wrapped in foil. Whatever you choose to use, make sure that it is large enough to avoid any risk of choking, and also so that it can be found easily. Enjoying with Young Children When eating a Dreikönigskuchen with young children, I often ask them to break open the buns first to search for the fève, before they start eating. This is to reduce the risk of a young child accidentally swallowing a fève or choking on one. That said, my kids have always been very careful when eating a Dreikönigskuchen, and I have never actually heard of anyone choking on a fève … Dreikönigskuchen Recipe A Swiss Dreikönigskuchen is made from a sweetened enriched dough, so it is essentially a sweet bread. It is similar in taste and texture to a brioche bun or, if you are Australian, a cream bun but without the cream My recipe for Dreikönigskuchen uses the same dough as for my Iced Finger Buns, as well as for my Grittibänz recipe. It is a very versatile recipe! A traditional Dreikönigskuchen is often made with raisins but, these days, it is also common to find them made with chocolate chips as well. Simply substitute the raisins in the recipe below for some good-quality chocolate chips. How to Make a Three Kings Cake Step 1 Measure the flour, sugar, yeast and salt into the bowl of an electric stand mixer. Lightly mix the ingredients together. Step 2 Slowly add the warm milk (you may not need all of it), and lightly beat everything with the dough hook until it comes together into a large ball of dough. Only add as much milk as you need to bring the ingredients together into a dough. Step 3 Slowly incorporate the butter, one tablespoon at a time, until all of the butter has been used. Then increase the speed to medium and continue kneading with the dough hook for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic. Step 4 Lightly oil a large mixing bowl, and place the dough into the bowl. Cover the bowl with a clean tea towel and leave it somewhere warm for 1 to 1.5 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size. Step 5 Once the dough has doubled in size, punch it back and knead it gently into a smooth ball. Add the raisins and knead the dough for about 5 minutes to incorporate the raisins. Step 6 Portion the dough into 8 small pieces, plus 1 large piece. The small pieces of dough should weigh about 100 g/3.5 oz each. Roll each small piece of dough into a smooth ball. Hide a plastic or porcelain fève into one of the pieces of dough. Alternatively, you could use a large dried bean, or even a coin wrapped in foil. Just make sure it is not too small as there may be a risk of choking. Arrange the small pieces of dough evenly on a sheet of baking paper into the shape of a circle. Leave a bit of space between each piece to allow them to puff up slightly. Place the large piece of dough into the centre. Step 7 Loosely cover the dough with a sheet of cling film. Place the dough somewhere warm for about 30 minutes, or until the dough has puffed up slightly. Step 8 When you are ready to bake, brush the cake with some egg wash, and sprinkle generously with pearl sugar. Step 9 Bake the cake for about 30 minutes, or until it is golden brown. The cake is cooked when an internal thermometer reads 85°C/185°F. More Kings Cake Recipes If you are looking for other types of Kings Cake, you might also like: Galette des Rois with Apples Galette des Rois with Frangipane Print Dreikönigskuchen Print Pin Recipe ★★★★★ 5 from 1 reviews This brioche-like cake is perfect for sharing, and whoever finds the hidden fève is crowned king for the day! Resting Time: 2 hours Author: Thanh | Eat, Little Bird Prep Time: 1 hour Cook Time: 30 mins Total Time: 1 hour 30 minutes Yield: Serves 8 to 12 Category: Bread Method: Oven Cuisine: Swiss Ingredients For the dough 600 g (4 cups) strong white bread flour 110 g (1/2 cup) caster sugar 1 teaspoon fine salt 14 g (4 teaspoons) instant dried yeast (see Kitchen Notes below) 375 ml (1 1/2 cups) milk, warmed to 37°C (98°F) 60 g (4 tablespoons) butter, softened 80 g (1/2 cup) sultanas or raisins 1 plastic or porcelain fève, or a large dried bean, or a coin wrapped in foil For the egg wash 1 egg, lightly beaten 1 tablespoon milk To decorate pearl sugar 1 paper crown Instructions To make the dough Measure the flour, sugar, salt and yeast into the bowl of an electric stand mixer. Lightly mix the ingredients together using the dough hook. Slowly pour in the warm milk, and continue mixing until everything comes together into a rough dough. Add the butter, one tablespoon at a time. Once the butter has been fully incorporated into the dough, add the next tablespoon of butter. Once all of the butter has been added, continue kneading the dough on medium speed for about 15 to 20 minutes. The dough is ready when it is soft and smooth, and also slightly elastic in texture when you try to stretch it. If you poke the dough softly, it should bounce back right away. Lightly oil a large mixing bowl. Place the dough inside the bowl. Cover the dough with a clean tea towel. Leave the dough somewhere warm for 1 to 1.5 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size (see Kitchen Notes below). Once the dough has doubled in size, punch back the dough to release all of the air. Gently knead the dough a few times, and then knead in all of the raisins. To portion the dough Pat the dough into a long log. Cut off 8 small pieces of dough. If you are using kitchen scales, each piece should weigh 100 g/3.5 oz. Roll each piece of small dough into a smooth ball. Hide a plastic or porcelain fève inside one of the small pieces of dough. Roll the remaining dough into a large circle. To shape the dough Line a baking tray with baking paper. Evenly arrange the 8 small pieces of dough into a circle on the baking paper, leaving a bit of room between each. Place the large piece of dough in the middle of the arrangement. Cover the dough loosely with a sheet of cling film. Place the dough somewhere warm for about 30 minutes, or until the dough has puffed up slightly. To bake the Dreikönigskuchen Preheat the oven to 220°C (428°F). Make the egg wash by lightly whisking together the egg and milk. Brush the cake with some egg wash. Sprinkle pearl sugar generously all over the cake. Bake for about 30-40 minutes, or until the cake is lightly golden. Check the cake at about 15 minutes, and if it is browning too quickly, cover the cake with a loose sheet of foil for the rest of the baking time. The cake is cooked if an internal thermometer reads 85°C (185°F). Gently remove the cake to a wire rack, and leave to cool completely. Whoever finds the fève is crowned king or queen for the day! Kitchen Notes ALTERNATIVES TO PEARL SUGAR If pearl sugar is not available, you could use flaked almonds, which are also traditionally used in Switzerland. VARIATIONS * Instead of raisins, use the same quantity of chocolate chips. * Omit the raisins for a plain dough. DIFFERENT TYPES OF FLOUR * For Swiss readers: I use Zopfmehl (or farine pour tresse) when making bread and enriched dough. DIFFERENT TYPES OF YEAST * Please note that there is a difference between instant yeast (also called instant dried yeast or fast-action dried yeast) and dried yeast (also called active dry yeast). If you are not sure what type of yeast you have, please check the packaging for instructions on how to use the yeast. * With instant yeast, you can add it directly to the flour mixture without having to activate it first. * With dried yeast, you will need to activate it first (usually in some warm liquid). * If you are using fresh yeast, you will need about one block (40 g fresh yeast = 14 g instant dried yeast). Crumble the fresh yeast into the warm milk, and stir to dissolve the yeast. PROOFING THE DOUGH Dough needs a warm environment for the yeast to activate and cause the dough to rise. If you don’t have a warm place in your home, try one of the following ideas: * In the oven with the oven light switched on (works only for some ovens). * In the oven with a tray of boiling water on the bottom shelf. * In the oven at a low temperature of about 25-30°C (77-86°F). * On the open oven door, with the oven turned on at 100°C (212°F). OVEN TEMPERATURES All recipes on this website state temperatures for a regular oven (i.e. a conventional oven without fan). If you have a convection oven with a fan, please consult the manufacturer’s handbook on how to adjust the temperature and baking time accordingly. CONVERSIONS To convert from cups to grams, and vice-versa, please see this handy Conversion Chart for Basic Ingredients. Did you make this recipe? Please leave a comment below and share your photos by tagging @eatlittlebird on Instagram and using #eatlittlebird The post Dreikönigskuchen (Swiss Three Kings Cake) appeared first on Eat, Little Bird. #PearlSugar #NewYear #Swiss #Raisins #Baking

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/celebrate-the-epiphany-with-a-dreikonigskuchen-or-swiss-three-kings-cake

[schmidtchristmasmarket]

Ten Things to do in Rome for Christmas

Were you planning to be in Rome around the time of Christmas? Tis the season to be jolly, so be sure to check out these ten recommendations. This was a thought list to write because there are many amazing things to see and do in Rome around this time of year. However, here at the Schmidt Christmas Market, we decided to boil everything down to just ten of the best things to do in Rome. Without further ado, let's begin!

Sign up to get our blog in a weekly email Christmas Markets

It's no wonder that we'd recommend a Christmas market, but hear us out. Although Italy doesn't quite have the same concept as Christmas as the U.S., Rome nonetheless puts on a fantastic display. Perhaps the most visited and widely regarded market resides in the famous Piazza Navona. There are also other options like the ones in the Campo de' Fiori, which are also worth visiting. The Christmas market is held in Piazza Navona square was built in the 1st century under orders of Emperor Domitian. The original purpose was a hippodrome, which would also serve as a place to reenact naval battles. The area would be flooded, and miniature versions of warships would be used. This market hosts a wide range of vendors, from street performers to artists, musicians, and stalls. So make sure to stop by and compare it to the Schmidt Christmas Market. Christmas Trees Galore

Although Rome's concept of Christmas is not quite the same as the American version, Rome does know how to put on a great Christmas tree show. All around Rome you will find enormous and well light Christmas trees. Although there is plenty of competition, some of the best trees can be found around the Coliseum in Piazza Venezia. Go to the top of the Spanish steps and bask in the Christmas décor. The backdrop of the ancient Roman coliseum also makes for interesting photos and stories! A short ten-minute walk will also take you to the main boulevard to arrive back to Piazza Venezia. This Christmas tree comes with a splendid nativity scene along with a massively tall tree. What makes this even better is if you continue walking down Via del Corso, you will shortly reach the area around the Spanish Steps. This area has yet another nativity scene (perhaps a better one) and a large well-light Christmas tree. This area also generally has lots of people leisurely walking around shopping for Christmas decor and presents. Experience Christmas Culture in Rome Rome also has a very impressive list of experiences you can partake in. From live musicals to opera's, plays and more, there's no shortage of Christmas themed events. Here are just a few of those impressive spectacles we love. The Nutcracker at the Teatro dell’Opera Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and other artists at the Chiesa di Ponte Sant’Angeloa around 7 PM. Handel, Beethoven, and Bruckner at Parco della Muscia or sometimes the Sala Santa Cecilia. Disney on Ice: Frozen also at the Parco della Musicia. Christmas concert as the Sala Baldini around 5:15 PM Again, these are just a few of the options you have to enjoy Rome's Christmas culture. You could probably even attend several of the events since some smart early in the evening while others start later. Go Ice Skating

This wouldn't be a Christmas blog without ice skating! Rome offers some great ice skating options. Consider walking over to the ice skating rank at Castel Sant'Angelo; if you're not around there, then no worries because Rome has plenty of other options as well! You could also try the popular ranks around Re di Roma, Tor di Quinto, or Villa Giordani.

Christmas Sweets and Treats

Rome also has some great food options, which are Christmas themed. Italian food is also famously delicious, so you'll have plenty to enjoy! We recommend venturing over to a store called Eataly near Piramide in the Testaccio area of Rome. The Eataly store features a large indoor market stocked full of traditional foods and treats centered around Italian cuisine. You'll probably also come across stacked boxes of cake called Panettone. This is a special "Christmas only" sweet bread that melts in your mouth when you eat it. It's more like someone figured out how to cross bread with candy floss. Manger of Bethlehem As an ode to the past, Rome still practices a special event giving homage to Christmas's true meaning. In Rome, you can find the re-creation of the Manger of Bethlehem scene, a Christian feast is put on, which features the concept of Jesus coming to humanity in the form of a helpless baby boy. Since Bethlehem meant "bread," a feast is put on to remember Jesus and eat the "body of Christ" as thanks. Midnight Mass Speaking of Christian traditions, Rome has plenty of them! You could also attend a midnight mass. In fact, many Romans suggest that Christmas only starts with midnight mass. To participate, walk over to the Basilica of St. Peter, where the Pope and others celebrate. Despite the "midnight" part of the name, the church has found it more practical to hold the celebration earlier in the evening. This is mostly for families and the elderly. Either way, it's quite the spectacle. Urbi et Orbe Thie address the Pope gives to the numerous followers of Catholicism both in the Vatican City and to the world. Urbi et Orbe means "to the city and to the world," the city referring to Vatican City. During this address, the Pope also does Christmas greetings and talks about the meaning of Christmas. Expat Christmas Parties Rome also hosts a series of Christmas themed parties specifically for ex-pats. These parties are generally done through ex-pat communities and are cheap or sometimes free to attend. In some cases, you just need to bring food, and you're in! The nice thing about these parties is you can enjoy Rome during Christmas with people from your country yet still learn about and enjoy Christmas in Rome. Christmas in Rome Tour Finally, Rome offers many different tour options for Christmas parties. These tours generally take you to some of the places we've mentioned earlier. They also stop off at markets, eateries, and more to show you what Rome has to offer during the Christmas season.

Sign up to get our blog in a weekly email That concludes our list of things to do in Rome for Christmas. If you liked this post, then consider following our Christmas blog for more. Or check out the Schmidt Christmas market for more Christmas decor.

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[snackhobi]

teaser: cream & suga

coming 19/12/20!

EDIT: out now!!

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader 

word count: 0.6k for this teaser, currently at 13k for the actual story, no idea how long it’s going to be / genre: we’re talking slow burn. we’re talking fluff. we’re talking idiots to lovers. we’re talking coffee shop aus at their most cliché babeeeyy / rating: this teaser is general/sfw BUT the full fic will be... explicit/nsfw 😳

a/n: for our rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab, I had coffeeshop au! I’ve been so incredibly blessed to writing alongside @yeojaa ​ @underthejoon ​ @ladyartemesia ​ @ppersonna ​ @untaemedqueen ​ @xjoonchildx ​; these ladies are all so talented and wonderful! 💖💖 (also this teaser is unbeta’ed so any mistakes are my own dfjsdfjdsf)

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

[rueur]

Morning Pages #12 (16.01.2017)

Monday 16th Jan - 9:12 a.m.

A train is leaving South Morang station only seconds from now, because it is now 9:13 a.m.. I said I needed to look up exactly what was going on with the myki fares for this year, because the machine keeps charging me $2.05 for each trip to South Morang from here, and I think from each trip to the city from here. I want to know if they’ve actually eradicated Zones 1 & 2 and it’s just the same price no matter how far you travel. Because I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea, but I don’t know if that’s what they’ve done until I look it up so I’m just going to do that the next time I come to a natural break in my typing. As it is, though, I have a lot to say that’s in my head for the time being.

I realise that Ikaros has really soft hands and I’ve been thinking about that for a while. He said his hands have been really soft since he got the German measles and the top layers of his skin fell off, leaving him super smooth for months. His palms and the soles of his feet still happen to be quite smooth. He used to brag about this a lot and I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but I’ve been touching more boys’ hands lately and his hands, I now realise, are INCREDIBLY soft. They’re softer than my hands.

I fed the cats before I started writing today, because it was 8 o’clock when I looked at my phone. I remember waking up briefly at 7 o’clock, and then I guess I fell back asleep for an hour. I came home around half past twelve last night. Ikaros and I went into the city and we watched Assassin’s Creed; well he did. The cinema was freezing cold and I kept falling asleep, it was horrendous. From what I saw of the movie anyway, it seemed more visually interesting than chronologically compelling. In other words, the storyline was weak. Ikaros verified this for me, after talking exhaustedly about it on the way to the train and then on the train. I was somewhat interested, but also too out of it to really pay attention, which made me feel even worse, considering I’d just fallen asleep and missed most of the film anyway. I should let my brother know that it’s no good, although he had suspicions that it wasn’t before I went to see it. I should’ve listened to him; he’s got the franchise’s best interests at heart so it certainly had to mean something that he’s so willing to boycott this film.

Okay, so I just looked up the myki fares. Turns out there’s a $3 cap on weekends for concession holders, which is amazing. I’ll definitely be going out on weekends a lot this year, hopefully. Zone 1 is $2.05 for one journey, and Zone 2 is $1.40. Combined is $2.05 again. Therefore, daily cap for Zone 1+2 concession holders is $4.10, which is 15 cents more expensive than last year, even though weekend travel is 90 cents cheaper per day. I’m sorry, I need to know this stuff, I’m a uni student studying in the city. Train commutes have been an integral part of my daily life since 2015. Goodness, I hope I get no 6 a.m. starts in 2017. It would make sense that third year students get the best timetables, right? We’d be given priority in regards to room bookings and lecture schedules. They have to, of course. I’ve put up with two years of heinous early morning starts and it is just too taxing for me to be up and ready at 6 a.m. and on a train at 7. It’s just not possible.

I feel compelled to talk about my day during these pages, but I don’t know why I should, really. This is meant to be stream-of-consciousness anyway. I guess what I’m thinking about right now, what’s in the back of my mind right now, is the food that’s in my fridge. I have a little under a quarter of a watermelon, and half of a honeydew. I have two hash browns from a coles deli, a bag of four-leaf salad, a quarter of a choc chip Panettone, a sliver of tofu, half a block or so of cheese, some soy milk, red kidney beans and lentils and chickpeas, and a little one-serve tub of blackberry yoghurt. I think that’s everything, but probably not. Oh, and a loaf of bread. And some jalapenos. I’ve made myself hungry now. The point is that I have options this morning in regards to breakfast. Ikaros stayed over yesterday, and he usually takes me shopping whenever he does. This time around he went rather crazy though. It was a little surprising, considering the odd half-fight we had on Saturday night about my not telling him about Tinder and Evan. Okay, it wasn’t so much a fight as my finally being honest with him about the way he makes me feel. Regardless, he wanted to make sure I knew that he cares about me. I guess that’s why he’s so eager to feed me the way I was so eager to feed him for most of last year.

We ate really well yesterday. Whenever he and I get to cook together, we make and then proceed to eat, the best food. For breakfast, we had diced tofu and mushrooms and kidney beans, served with a rosemary panini that had been scoured and filled with colby cheddar and olive oil, and a large fried portobello mushroom. For lunch, watermelon and honeydew with a tub of yoghurt each and some slices of Panettone. We found a deli at Northcote Plaza that had their Panettones on clearance from after Christmas. We got out large choc chip Panettone for $5! For dinner we had spicy mi goreng noodles with the beans, chickpeas and lentils, served with a hash brown each and two tofu strips. I had the worst dump this morning. So did he, he tells me. But I am so thankful as well, for that day of fantastic food and fantastic company. Although I do feel a bit hungry again now, and my asshole doesn’t feel too great, I still also feel very refreshed from a day of love and self-care.

We also watched pretty much the entire first season of Girls yesterday, and both agree that we would have sex with Adam Driver. Just his voice, his muscular build, his entire screen presence was irresistible and every scene with him in it had our full attention. My partner and I share a similar taste in men and women, I’d say.

For some reason, I’d just found myself on Isaac’s Facebook page, and it turns out that the rock odyssey he’s been working on, Paris, has just been announced to play in July of this year. He’s also doing The Mikado in New Zealand, that’s why he’s in New Zealand. I thought he was there for a holiday, but no he’s still working non-stop, it seems. He’s doing incredible things though, really incredible. His professional bio is getting very extensive now, and with every passing year he just seems to grow more and more impressive. I have no doubts at all about him moving to the United States. It’s a shame in a minute way, just because I really enjoy his company. I know if I ever want to see him again at that point in his career, I’ll need to gain some prominence as a writer. It’s a nice incentive, and I feel that it is in my reach. I feel like I’m starting to apply myself in a very liberal sense, that is during my time off I’ve been indulging my creative self a lot more. Isaac has always said though, that once a project gets on its feet, the creative process takes a back seat and the work becomes a lot more repetitive and tedious, mechanical. I can see that happening with what I’m doing with First Impressions. I think that after this show, I might have to leave First Impressions, move on and begin to do my own thing. I don’t know, maybe I should look into doing something with the Footscray Community Arts Centre. Honestly though, every time I think about the future, the first thing that I want to achieve is getting my license. It’s absolutely ridiculous that I haven’t gotten my driver’s license yet and I feel like that’s holding me back from being able to do a lot. I have near 16 or 17 hours and I need 120, it feels totally out of reach, and my brother is probably going to get his license before me, which is not fair because I’m in a period of my life where I desperately need it, and he’s got two years of high school and three years of uni left before he gets to meet the situation that I find myself in now. He’ll definitely get his license before high school graduation, and I’m trying not to think about that right now despite mentioning it now, because it makes me near-livid. Middle child syndrome. I’m sorry.

Another thing that I’m trying not to think about is Evan. He was so sweet and gorgeous and I really hope that he will call me and I can see him again this weekend, and we can talk a lot more than we did last weekend. Last weekend happened only three or so days ago though, and I know I should just be patient. Good things come to those that wait and all that.

I should stop thinking about him, I know. I should just live my life, and whatever happens happens. What’s happening today? I am going to South Morang again today, for drama rehearsals at 1 p.m., but I will be arriving hopefully around noon, because Martin is coming to visit, just for this afternoon. He’s back in Australia for a brief holiday, visited his family in Sydney, and is now visiting old friends in Melbourne. I’m not sure if he managed to catch up with Emily. I should ask if he knows that Emily’s in Sydney right now. I don’t know what I’m going to say today, or what I’m going to wear. I haven’t even showered or brushed my teeth or eaten breakfast yet, and it is 10 o’clock now. Oh I am actually so nervous to see him again. Excited, but nervous. I’ve missed him quite a bit. He was a very talented artistic director and I’ve sorely missed working with him. Hopefully Paul might learn a little something from him too, if Paul does get to meet him.

I think I might also go home for a little while today. I’ve kind of been neglecting my family for the past week or so. It’s been hard getting in sync with them, actually mostly getting in sync with my sister. My brother’s just always around. My parents are coming back in the night of the 18th of January, so that’s Wednesday. I’m going to go back and see them on Thursday. I should tell my mum I’ve been going out dancing. She’s not a fan, but she might be glad to hear I’m at least being social. Probably shouldn’t tell her about Ikaros for a while, though.

[samuelmmarcus]

Cape Cod Lake House Interior Design Ideas

  Hi, everyone! How are you doing today? Can you believe that we’re only a few weeks from Christmas? This is truly my favorite time of the year and I am getting super excited for it. My home is finally all decorated, we have stocked up on all of the Christmas treats we love, such as panettone, but I won’t lie… there are so many things to be done still! I think we, parents, tend to make this huge list with things that have to get done, but I am learning to enjoy every step of the way. The gift wrapping, the grocery shopping, the baking… you just do it as time allows and you try to see it as part of the big picture and you have to find the energy to really enjoy it all because Christmas doesn’t happen every day and we need to appreciate the opportunity of celebrating it once again with the people we love.

Now, can we talk about this dreamy Cape Cod lake house built by Coastal Signature Homes? Oh, what a dream home this one is! First of all, I love the exterior! If you’re planning on building, promise me you will take this look into consideration. This is the type of home that no one could ever get tired of. Here, the builder share more insights on this beautiful home:

“The Hampton Lake Craftsman is a true, custom home designed with the wide, shallow lot in mind, which afforded expansive lake views from as many rooms as possible. The oversized space over the garage houses long-term guests, and the bunkroom for grandchildren is a particularly magical touch. Other interior details of note are the impressive, solid, poplar millwork features and the seagrass wall coverings. Fieldstone cabinetry with built in coffee bar, and the home’s unique focal point, the tailor-made pewter range hood, made locally by a metalsmith in Savannah.”

Find a comfy spot and make sure to pin your favorite interior ideas!

  Cape Cod Lake House Interior Design Ideas

This home was built to be lived in, enjoyed and for entertainment, with lots of details within and great use of space. From the outside, we see a wide, welcoming front porch, flanked by stacked stone pillars.

Roof: The shingles color is Pewter Gray and the manufacture is Timberline.

Exterior Paint Color

Shaker Siding Color: Sherwin Williams SW7016 Mindful Grey and Sherwin Williams SW 7018 Dovetail.

Shutter Color: Sherwin Williams SW7008 Alabaster.

Craftsman-style Columns

“Stacked stone steps and columns gives this home a great look. The stone that we used here is called Echo Ridge Country Ledgestone. Exterior trim is Sherwin Williams Alabaster.”

Windows: Andersen Windows and Doors, 400 series, Craftsman Bronze.

Exterior Sconces: Feiss Outdoor Wall Lantern.

Front Door

I am loving the wide front porch with the stacked stone pillars and the beautiful front door with sidelights.

Lighting: Sea Gull Lighting – similar here.

Kitchen

What a welcoming kitchen! Wide plank hardwood flooring, classic wainscoting and a large farmhouse sink bring back thoughts of yesteryear, while still enjoying the modern advances. We also have white Quartz countertops for the island and the perimeter counters, glass fronted cabinets, a nice overhang on the island for eating, beautiful pendant lighting and a gorgeous hood with a decorative hammered steel look. Cabinet paint color is Benjamin Moore HC-172 Reverse Pewter.

Cabinets: Cabinets by Dean Williams Manufacturer: Fieldstone.

Counterstools: Lexington Oyster Bay Merrick Swivel Counter Stool.

Kitchen Lighting

Kitchen Lighting: Visual Comfort – similar here.

Kitchen Backsplash

The kitchen backsplash is Poplar wood nickel gap shiplap. It’s painted in Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove oil paint, semi-gloss and holds up great in the kitchen.

Kitchen wall color: Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

The flooring is Medallion 7 1/2″ Oak Aspen Wood floor – similar here (affordable option).

Coffee Bar

This open kitchen, making the best use of space, features a wet bar combo coffee nook with a wine cooler and a Miele Built In Coffee machine.

Hardware:Pulls, Appliance Pulls & Knobs.

Kitchen Hood

The kitchen features a decorative hammered steel oven hood.

Kitchen Hood: La Bastille – Custom Pewter Range Hood.

Sink

Kitchen sink is by Rohl, Shaws Apron-Front Single Bowl Fireclay Sink.

Faucet

The single handle faucet by Newport Brass is flanked by a soap dispenser and a button for the garbage disposal.

This room is approximately 17’x20′. The width where the French doors are is 20′ wide.

Countertop

Kitchen Countertop: Caesarstone 3cm Frosty Carrina.

Cooktop: Monogram.

Dining Room

The dining room is truly a room with a view. This room shines with the architectural details, such as the picture window framed by casement and transom windows to the sides and above, letting in the light and opening the water views.

Dining Room Dimensions: Approximately 12’x12′.

Furniture: Custom – Other Beautiful Dining Tables: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Beautiful Dining Chairs: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier

Chandelier is Darlana Linear Pendant by Visual Comfort – similar here.

Wainscoting

The white wainscoting and extensive crown molding accentuate the details even further in this dining room.

Dining Room walls: Thibaut T3665 (Blue Grass Cloth) – similar here.

Great Room

Open beams and a painted ceiling, the French Slider doors with transoms, all contribute to the feeling of lightness and space in this Great Room. Gorgeous hardwood flooring, shiplap walls and custom bookcases complete the room.

Ceiling Color: Benjamin Moore HC-172 Revere Pewter.

Bookcase Lighting: House of Troy.

Inspired by this Home:

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Fireplace Tile

The stone surround is Savannah Surfaces V111: Gray Wood Angles. Grout: Fusion Pro- Bleached Wood. Others: here, here, here & here.

Fireplace Trim

Close up of the white crown molding and white shiplap above the fireplace. Great artisan work and attention to detail. Trim paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Grasscloth

Custom cabinets flank the fireplace in this family room. These are perfect for displaying family art pieces, collections and books. The grasscloth wallpaper on the back helps show off the decor better. There is also plenty of storage underneath in the cabinets.

Grasscloth wallpaper inside bookcases: Anna French AT 34101.

Doors

This is a really nice example of open floor plans and why they are becoming more and more popular today. The sliding French doors on the right open to expand the living space even more, by joining with the screened in porch. Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore HC-172 – Revere Pewter.

Powder Room

I am loving this compact powder room with the Plantation Shuttered windows, furniture look vanity, wooden mirror, wall sconces and a white quartz counter. Shiplap paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Beautiful Bathroom Mirrors: here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Inspiring Bathroom Vanities: here, here, here & here.

Den

The family den features plenty of books shelves, a built-in desk and custom cabinets. This room has good features and will be used often. The French doors help keep the room light and airy while the room colors make the room warm and soothing.

Paint Color

Built-in paint color is Texas Leather by Benjamin Moore.

Cozy Spot

This cozy den features French doors leading outside. Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore HC-172 Revere Pewter.

Ceiling: Wood Cloth Wallpaper T14175 by Thibaut.

Ottoman: Custom – similar here.

Sconces: Visual Comfort.

Coastal Staircase

Featuring tongue and groove paneling and Craftsman-style window trim, this staircase feels coastal and timeless. Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore Revere Pewter.

Lighting: here & here – similar.

Bonus Room Bunk Room

The barn door provides architectural appeal and some privacy for the bonus room too. White tile flooring makes for easy maintenance. The alabaster white crown molding and baseboard are a wonderful contrast to the navy blue for a nautical look.

Bonus Room wall color: Benjamin Moore HC-172 Revere Pewter.

Bunk Beds

The custom bunk beds features beadboard, a custom ladder and  extra storage located under the bottom bunk. The white bunks are a great contrast to the navy blue walls. Bunk beds are Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove. Walls are Benjamin Moore 2128-30 Evening Dove.

Bedding: here, here & here.

Bunk Room Bathroom

The bonus room bathroom features blue subway tile. Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore Revere Pewter.

Countertop: Curava Arctic, Recycled Glass Counter.

Bathroom tile: Blue Hand-molded Subway Tile – similar here & here.

Faucet: Moen.

Guest Bedroom

Nice clean lines, soothing colors and lots of light coming in through the plantation shutters make this guest bedroom a relaxing retreat. Paint color is Revere Pewter by Benjamin Moore.

Guest Bathroom

In another guest bathroom, this walk-in shower has white subway tile installed vertically. The veins in the granite countertop are quite striking and blend with the gray walls.

Faucet: Moen.

Mirror: here – similar.

Bathroom Granite Countertop

Close-up of the guest bathroom sink with this gray and white granite countertop.

Master Bedroom

The master bedroom has an elegant feel. Craftsman-style trim above the French Sliding doors give a nice contrast to the gray walls. A patio door opens onto the back screened in porch with waterview. Paint color is Rockport Gray Benjamin Moore. 

Mirrors: here – similar.

Beautiful Beds: here, here, here, here & here.

Recommended Nightstands: here, here & here.

Beautiful Chairs: here, here, here & here.

Recommended Bedding: here, here (on sale) & here.

Master Bathroom

The master bathroom features glazed cabinets and the same beautiful grey walls.

Neutral Hues

 The master bathroom is a very soothing room with a gray and off-white color scheme and lots of natural light.

Details

Little details make such a difference. Here we have a beautiful wall sconce installed over the mirror.

Make-up Vanity

Two-tiered vanity top is covered in a gray and white granite with gorgeous veining throughout. Plenty of storage for this vanity area, with nice clean lines, wall sconce for extra lighting and a wall mounted make-up mirror.

Glazed Cabinets

Close up of the glazed bathroom cabinet. I am loving the old fashioned decorative glass knobs.

Shower

The walk-in shower features pebble stone mosaic floor, porcelain tile walls, a large shower seat and a brick glass window.

Mudroom

This mudroom leads upstairs to the bonus room and opens to the laundry room. Note the pocket door to the laundry room – smart to keep noise to a minimum.

Laundry Room

The laundry room is a multi use room, and it works as laundry room and craft room with a custom craft table and wrapping station. The wrapping station has extra cubicles for storage, helping keep the wooden countertop neat and clean. There’s also plenty of cabinet space above the raised washer and dryer. The wall color is Benjamin Moore, Quiet Moments.

Vertical Shiplap

Vertical Shiplap Paint Color: Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Baskets: Pottery Barn.

Screened Porch

This porch is furnished with a comfy chair and an outdoor sofa. I am loving the green painted ceiling for an expected pop of color. Who wouldn’t love to spend some time in this place, right?

Sliding French doors are by Andersen.

  Many thanks to the builder for sharing the details above!

Builder: Coastal Signature Homes (Instagram)

Photography: Tom Jenkins Photography.

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Bring the Holidays Home!

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