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[mugcustom]

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[harshita1166]

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[flwrkid14]

The Batfamily’s Christmas List Tradition (and how Tim gets lost in it)

The Batfamily has a long-standing Christmas tradition: the List. With so many members in the family, it’s a necessity. Everyone writes down what they want (within reason, of course), and the list serves as the ultimate gift guide. It’s efficient, especially for such a big family, and it ensures no one ends up with seven pairs of socks or the same gadget twice.

Tim takes the list seriously. It’s his chance to ask for the small, thoughtful things he wouldn’t usually splurge on for himself. Things like:

New makeup brushes. His old ones are worn out and falling apart, and it’s not until he’s on a mission that requires cross-dressing that he realizes just how bad they’ve gotten. Having a new, high-quality set would make everything feel a little smoother—and maybe even a little fun.

Cozy hoodies. Between Wayne Enterprises business casual and his Robin gear, Tim rarely gets the chance to wear something soft and comforting. His favorite hoodies are all fraying at the edges, with loose threads on the pockets and fabric that’s stretched too thin. A fresh one would feel like a luxury.

A new game console. Tim is rarely ever not working, but on those rare days off, he realizes he doesn't have much to entertain him that's not work related, that doesn't require him to leave his nest. Plus, it’s a great way to connect with his siblings during low-stakes, playful nights.

Nice coffee cups or tumblers. His caffeine habits are legendary, but the chipped and mismatched mugs he uses don’t exactly scream "Tim Drake." A sleek, stylish tumbler or a high-quality ceramic mug would elevate the most important part of his day.

Random indulgences. Books, stationery, weighted blankets, maybe a nice figuring from his favorite movie, a cool gadget he wouldn’t think to buy himself—little things that spark joy and make him feel cared for, anything he knows his own parents would have never bought for him to help heal his inner child. He's never had the luxury of writing such lists before becoming a Wayne.

Tim doesn’t just take the list seriously for himself; he makes sure to go the extra mile for his family, too. He’s always had a knack for gift-giving, and he loves curating the perfect presents for his siblings. For Dick, it might be a rare vinyl of his favorite band. For Jason, an antique first-edition book he’d mentioned once in passing. For Damian, something handmade and unique, like a custom leather-bound sketchbook or a rare art supply. Tim remembers the little things—the throwaway comments, the subtle preferences—and builds his gifts around them, ensuring every box under the tree feels deeply personal.

But Christmas rolls around… and none of the thought Tim puts into his gifts is reflected in what he receives.

Instead, he gets tech. More tech. External hard drives, cables, chargers—things he already has backups for because, well, he’s Tim. He doesn’t need more, and he didn’t ask for more.

And the worst part? It’s not that they’re bad gifts. It’s that the family assumes they know him so well that they don’t even look at his list.

“Tim’s the tech guy,” they think. “Of course he’d want more tech.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s grateful, of course—Tim is always grateful—but there’s a hollowness that creeps in every year when he unwraps another stack of USB drives and ethernet cables. It’s not about the gifts themselves. It’s about the realization that the people he loves, the people who should know him best, don’t see him the way he wants to be seen.

In a way, it feels painfully familiar. Janet had always made sure his presents as a child reflected her vision for him, not what he actually wanted. New tailored suits instead of the hoodies or tees he longed for. Sleek, professional office stationery to replace his Robin-themed pens and notebooks. Vintage collectibles meant to sit on a shelf, collecting dust, instead of toys he could actually play with. The gifts always came with a message: who he should be, not who he was. And now, even with the bats, the gifts still feel like expectations—like they see him as "the tech guy" rather than Tim, with all his quiet wants and overlooked needs.

So, Tim starts dreading Christmas. Not because he doesn’t love his family or the season, but because it reminds him of how little they seem to notice the little things about him.

And maybe one year, he stops adding personal things to the list altogether. Maybe he starts asking for tech, just to avoid the disappointment.

But deep down, he wishes someone—anyone—would surprise him with a new hoodie, a weighted blanket, or a set of makeup brushes. Something that says, “I see you, Tim. I really see you.”

[elryuse]

The Story Of, How A Cafe Worker Wins The Heart Of A Superstar

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Wonyoung, Cafe Worker Male Reader, Fell in love at first sight, Kiss, Strangers to Lover, Fluff, Full of emotion

The cafe bell chimed a familiar melody as the door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Busy with wiping down a table, I momentarily glanced up, my breath catching in my throat. A girl, shrouded in a white bucket hat and a mask, stood awkwardly by the entrance.

"Hi there! Welcome to Sunray Cafe," I greeted warmly, my usual chipper self shining through. "What can I get you today?"

The girl, her eyes sparkling even beneath the mask, approached the counter. "Can I get a large Americano, please? With no sugar, and maybe less ice?" Her voice was soft, melodic, like a gentle stream tinkling over smooth pebbles.

"Absolutely! Coming right up!" I punched in her order on the register, a thrill shooting through me. Today was definitely turning out interesting. As I busied myself brewing her coffee, I stole another glance at her. There was a certain aura about her, an ethereal quality that made her stand out even amongst the usual cafe crowd.

"Here you go," I announced, placing the steaming cup on the counter. "One large Americano, no sugar, less ice. Just the way you like it, I presume?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips, barely visible beneath the mask. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched for a moment, filled with an unspoken awkwardness. I yearned to strike up a conversation, to get to know the girl behind the mask, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the air of mystery surrounding her, or maybe just a touch of shyness on my part.

She settled down at a corner table, the clinking of her spoon against the ceramic mug the only sound for a while. I watched her from afar, mesmerized by the way her gloved fingers cradled the cup, how her eyes sparkled with an unseen emotion as she sipped her coffee.

As the cafe slowly filled with the afternoon crowd, I found myself drawn to her table again and again. Each time, our eyes would meet for a brief moment, a silent exchange that sent a flutter to my heart. Who was this girl? What was her story? I couldn't help but wonder.

Days turned into weeks, and the cafe slowly became synonymous with Wonyoung's presence. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she'd walk in, a vision in white with her signature Americano order. Each time, a wave of exhilaration would wash over me. We'd fallen into a comfortable routine – our exchanges started with greetings, then brief conversations about the weather or the latest K-Pop releases.

One sunny afternoon, as I placed her usual cup on the counter, I mustered up the courage to ask, "The Americano with no sugar, less ice – is that your favorite, or just a habit?"

A soft laugh, like wind chimes on a summer breeze, escaped her lips. "A bit of both, I guess. But honestly, it's more about the company now." Her words sent a jolt of joy through me. Was she implying...?

"Really? You like coming here just for the company?" I couldn't help the hopeful lilt in my voice.

She met my gaze, her eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "The coffee's not bad either," she admitted with a playful smile. "But yes, the company is definitely a perk."

Emboldened by her words, I took a chance. "Actually, my name is Y/n," I blurted out, feeling a bit flustered. "W-what about you? I keep seeing the name 'Won' written on your cup."

A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile. "Won is fine," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As she turned to leave, I blurted out, "Wait!" She paused, her back to me. "Can I, uh... walk you home?" My cheeks burned with a blush, but I held her gaze.

To my surprise, she didn't refuse. Instead, she turned around, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sure," she said simply. "That sounds nice."

As we walked side by side, the setting sun casting an orange glow on our path, I felt a lightness in my step, a joy that resonated deep within me. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite foods, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. It felt effortless, comfortable, like we'd known each other for years.

When we reached her doorstep, the air crackled with a nervous energy. "Today was nice, Y/n," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Would you like to do it again sometime?" I asked, hope flickering in my chest.

A genuine smile bloomed on her face, as radiant as the sun that had just dipped below the horizon. "I'd like that," she replied, taking out her phone. "Here, put your number in."

As I entered my contact information, her phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, I noticed she saved my number under the name "Sunray Cafe." A pang of disappointment shot through me, a silent acknowledgement of the distance between our worlds.

But then, she added a single emoji – a bright yellow sun – beside my name. The small gesture sent a warmth blooming in my chest, a promise of sunshine and happiness to come. "I'll call you, Won," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination. "And I'll make you happy, I promise."

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "We'll see about that, Sunray Cafe." With a final wave, she disappeared into her apartment building, leaving me with a heart full of hope and the promise of a future filled with sunshine, coffee, and maybe, just maybe, a love story blooming amidst the aromatic warmth of the cafe.

The following afternoon, butterflies danced a frenetic jig in my stomach as Won walked into the cafe. Today, I had a surprise planned. Mustering up all my courage, I approached her as she placed her usual order.

"Hey, Won," I greeted, my voice a touch shaky. "So, I was wondering..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?"

Her eyes widened beneath the mask, a flicker of surprise giving way to a hesitant smile. "A date?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," I blurted out, my cheeks burning. "Just to, you know, hang out outside of the cafe."

To my utter delight, she didn't say no. In fact, a hint of a blush seemed to color her cheeks, hidden beneath the white mask. "I'd... I'd like that," she replied softly.

We set a date for the weekend, and the anticipation gnawed at me for days. Finally, the day arrived, and I found myself waiting for her at a park, a bouquet of sunflowers – her favorite – clutched nervously in my hand.

When she arrived, my breath hitched. Even in casual clothes and the ever-present mask, she looked radiant. Today, however, there was a certain spring in her step, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," I said, extending the flowers towards her.

Her smile widened as she accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Y/n. These are beautiful."

The afternoon unfolded like a dream. We strolled through the park, the scent of summer flowers filling the air. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite movies, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. Her laughter, a melody tinkling in the summer breeze, sent shivers down my spine. There was a comfortable ease about our conversation, a sense of connection that transcended the barrier of the mask.

Later, we decided to catch a movie. As we sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the dimly lit cinema, a thrill coursed through me. Stealing a glance at her, I noticed her eyes glued to the screen, tears glistening in them during a particularly emotional scene. In that moment, I felt a surge of protectiveness towards her, a desire to shield her from any harm.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city, I suggested a final stop – Sunray Cafe. The familiarity of the place brought a smile to both our faces.

"Welcome back," I said, ushering her in.

The cafe was bustling with customers, but a corner table by the window was miraculously free. I settled Won into the seat, her eyes sparkling as she took in the familiar surroundings.

"This place feels different somehow," she remarked, tilting her head.

"Because you're here with me," I replied impulsively, my cheeks burning with a blush.

She met my gaze for a long moment, a blush creeping up her neck despite the mask. Then, she smiled, a shy, sweet smile that sent my heart into overdrive.

"I'm glad I am," she whispered.

I ordered her usual Americano, this time with a hint of caramel syrup, hoping to surprise her. As I placed the cup on the table, I blurted out, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

She looked up, her eyes curious. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Won, would you ever consider taking off your mask?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, a silent plea in her eyes. Then, she shook her head gently. "Not yet, Y/n. Maybe someday."

Disappointment tugged at my heart, but seeing the unspoken emotions in her eyes, I understood. This wasn't the right time to push her.

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it gently. "Okay," I said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

A warm smile bloomed on her face, chasing away the shadows in her eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. For understanding."

We spent the rest of the evening talking, sipping our coffee, and simply enjoying each other's company. As we walked out of the cafe hand-in-hand, the night sky ablaze with stars, I knew this was just the beginning of something special. The mask might have hidden her face, but it couldn't hide the connection we shared, a connection forged over cups of coffee, shared dreams, and stolen glances under the summer sun.

The next day, A sudden jolt of electricity shot through me as the cafe door chimed, announcing a new arrival. But it wasn't just any customer. It was Won, but this time, there was another man by her side.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, but his aura was cold, his expression unreadable. He held himself stiffly, a stark contrast to Won's usual radiant presence. Even with the mask on, I could sense the tension radiating from her, a silent plea for help I couldn't quite understand.

The man approached the counter, his voice devoid of warmth. "Black coffee, hot. No sugar, and a side of rock sugar."

The odd combination sent a shiver down my spine, but I nodded curtly, professionalism overriding my growing unease. As I brewed the coffee, I stole a glance at Won. Her eyes darted around the cafe nervously, avoiding mine altogether.

When I placed the order on the counter, the man picked up the cup and took a long sip. His face contorted in disgust. He then reached for the rock sugar, a single, unrefined cube, and popped it into his mouth before taking another sip of the coffee. He grimaced again, then let out a heavy sigh.

"Looks like the merger will have to be expedited," he said to Won, his voice laced with a coldness that sent chills down my spine. "Your father called. He needs a faster turnaround on the debt settlement."

Won's mask seemed to shrink around her face, her shoulders slumping in defeat. But amidst the fear in her eyes, there was a flicker of defiance. "Marriage?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The man nodded curtly. "That's what your father wants. Apparently, a public display of unity will appease the investors."

A suffocating silence descended upon us. The man seemed oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Won, his gaze fixed on his now lukewarm coffee. But I knew something was terribly wrong. This marriage, this entire situation, felt forced, a business deal masquerading as love.

The man finally set down his cup, his gaze snapping towards Won. "Who is he?" he demanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "The one you truly care about."

The air crackled with tension, the question hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat against my ribs. Won's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent plea for understanding, for help. And in that shared look, everything hung in the balance.

Unable to bear the suffocating tension any longer, I took a deep breath and approached their table, my voice firm but calm. "Excuse me," I said, forcing a smile, "but could you please keep it down? There are other customers here trying to enjoy their coffee."

The cold man's icy gaze snapped towards me, his expression hardening further. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, the clink of the cup against the saucer the only sound for a moment.

"A lowlife like you wouldn't understand professionalism," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I could easily buy this entire cafe and kick you out on the street."

A surge of anger flared within me, but I fought it down. This wasn't about me. It was about Won, about the fear and helplessness etched on her face.

"Professionalism isn't about money," I countered, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. "It's about respect. Respect for your partner, respect for others around you."

The man scoffed, a humorless sound. "Partners? Don't make me laugh. This is a business arrangement, nothing more." His gaze flickered to Won, his voice softening a touch. "Isn't that right, darling?"

Won remained silent, her eyes downcast. My heart ached for her, for the unspoken words trapped behind the mask.

The man seemed to take her silence as agreement. He flashed a cold smile in my direction, his parting words laced with a veiled threat. "Consider yourself warned, kid. Don't get in the way of things you don't understand. I won't let her be taken that easily." With that, he rose from his seat, leaving Won and me alone in a tense silence.

As the cafe door chimed shut behind him, the weight of his words settled heavily upon us. Won's shoulders slumped further, and for a moment, I thought she might crumble. But then, she lifted her head, a flicker of determination replacing the fear in her eyes.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden surge of hope that bloomed in my chest. This wasn't just fear in her eyes anymore – it was a spark, a defiance against the future that had been thrust upon her.

Before I could respond, she surprised me by reaching out. Her gloved hand cupped my cheek, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. My breath hitched as she leaned in closer, the mask a barrier between us yet somehow insignificant in the face of the raw emotion in her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper against my lips. "For everything."

Then, in a move that stole my breath away, she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't the soft, sweet kiss I'd dreamt of. It was a fleeting touch, a soft brush of cotton from her white mask against mine, yet it held a universe of unspoken emotions. The taste of coffee and something uniquely hers lingered on the fabric as she pulled away, a blush creeping up her cheeks despite the mask.

"I... I need to go," she stammered, her voice flustered. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

With that, she turned and hurried out of the cafe, leaving me standing there in a daze. My hand flew to my lips, the warmth of her touch still tingling on my skin. The kiss was a promise, a declaration whispered against the storm brewing in her life.

Hope, a fragile thing, blossomed in my chest. Won might be trapped, but she wasn't defeated. And neither was I. We had each other, a connection forged over stolen glances and shared dreams. Together, we would find a way. The road ahead might be difficult, but with the faint memory of her touch and the soft brush of cotton from her mask against my lips, I knew I wouldn't face it alone.

A year had crawled by, each day a monotonous echo of the last. The cafe, once a haven for stolen glances and whispered dreams, now felt hollow without Won's presence. I wiped down the counter with a practiced efficiency, a ghost of a smile clinging to my lips. The memory of our date – the sunflowers, the movie, the shared coffee – played on repeat in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of a happiness that felt like a lifetime ago.

Just as I was about to flick off the neon "Open" sign, a soft rapping sound startled me. A figure stood hesitantly on the other side of the glass door, the setting sun casting a golden glow around them. My heart lurched in my chest – could it be…?

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw Won, her ever-present white mask the only thing obscuring her face. But this time, there was a different glint in her eyes, a mix of determination and something else – nervousness?

Before I could even formulate a greeting, she was in my arms, clinging to me like a lifeline. "Y/n," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over as I held her close. "Won," I croaked, my voice hoarse. "I thought… I thought I lost you."

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her gloved hands. Her eyes, filled with a newfound fire, held my gaze. "Never," she whispered fiercely. "That awful man… It turned out he was a corrupt business owner. My dad cut ties with him, but it caused a huge fight with my parents. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to choose my own path."

A smile, hesitant but genuine, bloomed on her face as she slowly began to untie the straps of her mask. My breath hitched in my throat. For all this time, the girl who filled my days with sunshine had been Jang Wonyoung, the K-Pop idol I adored.

As the mask fell away, revealing the breathtaking beauty I'd only glimpsed in dreams, a blush flooded my cheeks. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, met mine. "Now you know why I always hid behind the mask, huh?"

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "If anyone saw you in this cafe, the whole place would explode!"

We both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into a comfortable warmth that felt like coming home. Wonyoung cupped my cheeks once again, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "It took me a whole year, Sunray Cafe," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

A surge of joy filled me as I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our kiss was tender, a promise whispered on the wind. "I'm all yours, Wonyoung," I murmured against her lips.

The future stretched before us, uncertain yet filled with possibilities. We had a fight on our hands, the challenge of keeping our love a secret amidst the glare of the spotlight. But together, with the shared warmth of a stolen kiss and a year of yearning, we were ready to face anything. The cafe, once a symbol of lonely longing, was now bathed in the golden glow of a new dawn, the start of a beautiful love story between a barista and his superstar.

The End

[blogdays]

Fastdtftransfer - Devasa+

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[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Beneath the Apron

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

AU: Baker!Simon

Warnings: Fluff, light teasing, mutual pining

Author’s Note: Simon Has me in a chokehold, tbh I need more baker Simon-

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The first time you walked into Simon Riley’s bakery, it was pouring rain. Not a gentle drizzle, but a torrential downpour that left you drenched from head to toe. You ducked inside, shivering and muttering curses under your breath, only to freeze when you realized you weren’t alone.

Behind the counter stood a man who looked like he belonged in a different time and place—broad-shouldered, with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. He stared at you for a moment, silent, as water dripped from your hair onto the floor.

“Uh… sorry,” you stammered, clutching your soaked bag to your chest. “I’ll just…” You gestured vaguely toward the door.

“Don’t be daft,” he said, his voice a low rumble with a thick accent. “Yer already in ‘ere. Might as well dry off.”

Before you could argue, he disappeared into the back and returned with a towel. He tossed it to you without ceremony, then leaned against the counter, watching as you awkwardly patted yourself dry.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling strangely self-conscious under his gaze.

“Coffee?” he asked, already reaching for a mug.

“Oh, no, I—”

“Yer freezin’. Coffee,” he said firmly, leaving no room for debate.

A few minutes later, you were sitting at a small table near the window, a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. The rain hammered against the glass, but the warmth of the bakery and the rich aroma of freshly baked bread made it feel like a haven.

“Don’t get many people comin’ in this time o�� day,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to stop,” you replied, smiling faintly. “The weather had other ideas.”

He grunted—his version of a laugh—and you found yourself oddly charmed by the sound.

After that, you started coming in more often. At first, it was just for the coffee—well, that’s what you told yourself. But it wasn’t long before you found yourself lingering, chatting with Simon between customers and slowly peeling back the layers of his quiet, guarded personality.

---

One morning, you walked in to find him hunched over a tray of cookies, his brow furrowed in concentration. He glanced up as the bell jingled, his expression softening slightly when he saw you.

“Late today,” he commented, his accent turning the words into a soft rumble.

“Had a meeting,” you replied, dropping into your usual seat. “But I couldn’t skip my daily dose of grumpy baker charm.”

Simon snorted, shaking his head. “Dunno why you keep comin’ back.”

“Maybe I like watching you scowl at dough,” you teased, resting your chin in your hand.

He gave you a mock glare, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Yer lucky I make good coffee.”

---

One quiet afternoon, you caught him humming to himself. The bakery was empty except for the two of you, the soft rhythm of his movements lulling you into a comfortable silence. Then you heard it—a low, quiet hum, almost imperceptible over the sound of the mixer.

“Is that… singing?” you asked, looking up with a grin.

Simon froze, his hands stilling mid-knead. “It’s not.”

“It so is!” you said, laughing. “What was it? Some folk song?”

“Shut it,” he muttered, though the tips of his ears turned red.

You leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter. “Come on, Simon. Give me a performance. I’ll even clap.”

“Yer impossible,” he grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

---

Another time, you showed up with a batch of cookies you’d tried to bake yourself. They were… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly bakery quality.

Simon picked one up, inspecting it with a raised brow. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“A cookie,” you said defensively.

“Looks like a rock,” he deadpanned.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Well, excuse me for not being a professional.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “S’alright. Can’t all be as talented as me.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face.

Simon took a bite of the misshapen cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said finally.

“Really?” you asked, brightening.

“No,” he replied, smirking.

---

One morning, the bakery was unusually quiet. You sat at your usual spot, sipping your coffee and watching Simon move around the kitchen. His hands were deft and sure, rolling out dough and piping frosting with an ease that came from years of practice.

“You ever sit down?” you asked suddenly.

“Don’t have time,” he replied without looking up.

“You’ve got time now,” you pointed out.

Simon paused, a tray in his hands. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. To your surprise, he placed the tray on the counter, untied his apron, and sat down across from you.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Figured it’d shut you up,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“You’re full of charm, aren’t you?” you shot back, smirking.

Simon shook his head, leaning back in the chair. Up close, he was even more intimidating—broad shoulders, strong jaw, and those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through you. But there was a softness to him, too, in the way he rested his arms on the table, his posture relaxed for once.

“You come here every day,” he said after a moment. “Why?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, unsure how honest you wanted to be.

“Well,” you started, stalling for time, “the coffee’s good. The croissants are amazing. And the company’s not bad, either.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Not bad?”

“Okay, fine,” you admitted, leaning forward. “The company’s great. Even if you’re a little grumpy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rumbling, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Grumpy, huh?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Very,” you said, grinning.

Simon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said finally, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

Your breath hitched, and before you could think of a reply, the bell above the door jingled, signaling another customer. Simon stood, tying his apron back on with practiced ease.

“Stay as long as you like,” he said over his shoulder, the hint of a smile on his lips as he walked away.

And just like that, he was back to being the mysterious baker, leaving you sitting there with a fluttering in your chest and a stupid grin on your face.

I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[seventrio]

MİRHOME - SİLVER

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Cold brew - Na Jaemin

pairing: barista!jaemin x barista!reader

genre: fluff, angst; enemies to lovers, coffee shop au

synopsis: at the coffee shop you work at, there's always this regular who comes and orders the same cup of cold brew coffee every morning without fail. you end up having a rather rude interaction with him one morning when you accidentally spill his coffee on him before his job interview – which turns out to be for the very same coffee shop you're working at. it doesn't matter to you that he got the job, but the fact that he's always on the same shift as you never fails to get on your nerves. Will the two of you sort out your feud, or will the both of you continue to brew these cold feelings towards each other? 

a/n: this is a very VERY long overdue fic for @hcsarchive ! i’m really really sorry for the long hiatus y’all, and for the decline in quality of writing and banner design :”) but to star, i genuinely hope you enjoy this fic that i churned up at 2 in the morning, and that your life will be filled with joy and many many good things! it’s been great having you as my friend, though we haven’t interacted much </3 I promise i’ll try to be more active here <3

"One venti cold brew for Na Jaemin!" you call, voice ringing out through the coffee shop amid the clinking of mugs and cutlery and cool jazz music playing in the background. As expected, a young man clad in a mint green hoodie and jeans rushes up to the counter. His soft, ebony-black bangs fall over his coffee-brown eyes as he claims his drink from you with a muffled "thanks" before scurrying off again, black backpack hanging from his back and laptop case in hand. 

"He came again?" Lia asks, popping a pastry into the oven and setting the timer.

You nod in response. “Na Jaemin. Here every morning, at the exact same time ordering the exact same thing��.

"Aren't many of our customers like this too?" Lia questions, uncertain as to why you suddenly brought up this particular customer. 

"Yeah, but they're not always here at the exact same time every day – sometimes they come a few minutes earlier or later. And even if they have regular orders, they sometimes order different things. This guy is here at 7 am on the dot every day without fail, and he always, always orders a venti size cold brew. I don't recall him having ordered anything different," you explain to Lia as the timer on the oven goes off, and you take the croissant out. 

"Wow, how are you so observant towards these details outside of his regular drink order? It's as if you're specifically keeping your eye out for his arrival. Are you?" Lia questions, raising her eyebrows at you.

"What the hell, no!" You hurriedly deny.  

"But he's your ideal type, is he not? Brown eyes, black hair, pretty cute," Lia replies with a smirk as she gets to preparing a latte, and in that moment you regret the day you'd spoken about your ideal types to each other. 

"I mean yes, but we don’t even know each other! We’ve barely exchanged any words apart from him mumbling his thanks to me when I pass him his drink,” you protest. 

“So? He comes here every day, you’ll sure have a chance to get to know him better,” Lia insists.

“One grande caffe latte for Kai!” you call out, placing the drink on the counter and flashing a smile at the customer, who says a “thank you”, picks up the drink and casually saunters off, in contrast to how Jaemin had practically flown out the door after collecting his order from you earlier. “I don’t know. Compared to all our other customers, he seems to be in a constant rush. He’s like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

Still, Lia remains adamant. “Trust me, if he’s your destined soulmate, there will be a way for you both to get to know each other. Really”.

You shrug, getting to work making a java chip frappuccino. “Nah, I don’t think he is. He’s probably just the eye candy who comes into our shop every morning for his daily cold brew”. 

Lia simply hums and turns around to take the next customer’s order, while a mild pang of longing settles in your heart. Yes, you knew he was really just eye candy to you, but a part of you wished that you’d at least be able to interact with him a little and get to know him as an acquaintance at least. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Your wish comes true the next day — or at least the first part of it. You finally get to properly interact with him, past the muffled “thank yous” he would give you whenever you passed him his cold brew every morning. 

But was it pleasant? 

Far from that. 

It’s about 2:30 pm in the afternoon, and the cafe is way more hectic than it should be at this time. Throngs of people flood the cafe, leaving all of the baristas overwhelmed, yourself included.

“I thought people drink morning coffee, not afternoon coffee!” Lia complains, practically sprinting to the other end of the counter, carrying a customer’s order on a black tray. “One blueberry muffin and one vanilla sweet cream cold brew for Shanice!” 

“I know right. Suddenly everyone’s ordering their coffee in the afternoon for some weird reason!” you exclaim, hurrying to save the pastries in the oven before they burned to a crisp. 

Your already-divided attention is briefly stolen by the sight of a familiar face coming in through the door — it’s none other than Na Jaemin. Weird, he already came in the morning, you think to yourself, already moving towards the cold brew machine out of instinct. You can’t help but notice he’s changed out of his usual hoodie and jeans into slacks, a white long-sleeved collared shirt and a blazer, more formal than the casual attire he normally dons, which leads you to think that he has something important on. As soon as you place the pastries on the counter, you head over to the register where Jaemin is to take his order. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you recite the standard phrase.

“One venti cold brew, please,” he states. 

“Alright, I’ll get that for you. Na Jaemin, right?” you ask, picking up a venti-size cup and a marker, scribbling the name on as he nods. 

You put some ice in the cup, and then stride over to where the brewed coffee is stored before dispensing enough to fill the cup. Just as you’re bringing it to the collection point, a voice calls for you. “Y/n! Hurry, there’s more orders!” one of your colleagues yells. 

“Okay, coming soon!” you reply back, calling out Jaemin’s name and order, passing the drink to him and preparing to hurry off. 

Only, you’d been too fast in handing the drink to him and had let go before his hands were properly around the cup, resulting in the cup falling from your hands and spilling coffee all over his shirt. Your jaw falls to the floor along with the cup as you watch his white shirt turn coffee-brown and prepare to offer multiple sincere apologies, maybe even offer to pay for his shirt to be cleaned. 

But before you can do that, he hits the roof. “Ugh! I have a job interview, you idiot! Why are you so careless?” he exclaims, clearly livid. Veins bulge out visibly from his forehead, a clear sign of his fury. Heads snap in your direction as the commotion distracts customers from whatever they were doing previously. 

Annoyance at how Jaemin had unnecessarily blown up at you, coupled with stress from the already overwhelming shift began to take over you, and you had to use every fiber in your being to maintain your professionalism and not hurl the best insult you could think of back at him. “Sir, I’m extremely sorry”. You murmur repeated apologies as you get several wet tissues for him. “I’ll be willing to pay for the cleaning costs, just let me know how much it costs when you next visit us”. 

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to appease Jaemin. “That’s not the point. I don’t have spare clothes, you know! Now I might not get my job!” Jaemin exclaims, eyes boring into you accusingly. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish’s. “Thanks a lot, I suppose,” he spits, making sure his sarcasm came across clearly. With that, he takes his half-empty drink cup and stalks off. 

Meanwhile, you’re left with a taste that's even more bitter than the cold brew in your mouth from the encounter. “Wow, that was pretty rude of him,” Lia comments, coming up beside you. “Maybe you should have ensured that he was actually holding the cup before letting go, but that was still out of line on his end”. 

You sigh, shaking your head and turning back to the cash register, preparing to serve the next customer. “Whatever. Let’s forget that this happened”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

A week has passed since the incident, and you’ve all but forgotten about it, the incident almost having been cleared from your memory completely.

Until you see a familiar face coming in at 2:30 pm — none other than Na Jaemin, the customer who’d yelled at you rather rudely that day when you’d made an honest mistake. “Lia? Can you take this next customer? I’d rather not interact with him again,” you whisper to your co-worker while glaring daggers at him. 

To your surprise, Lia shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s here to order, actually. I think he’s here for his first day on the job”. 

You narrow your eyes at her as a sense of foreboding comes over you. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new barista, and he’ll be working here part-time. Did no one tell you?” Lia explains, wiping the counter top. “The job interview he mentioned last week — it was for a position here as a barista”. 

“No way. Please tell me you’re lying”. You feel your eyes grow to the size of the saucers in your hands. 

She shakes her head. “I’m being for real here”. 

You watch as your supervisor comes out to meet Jaemin and they exchange greetings, before she passes him a set of uniform and he heads to the restrooms. “Oh, my gosh”. Your hand comes up to your forehead, and your lips form a thin line as you feel your annoyance levels peak again. “No way I’m sharing shifts with this guy”. 

Lia shrugs. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Hopefully he forgot that it was you who spilled coffee on him last week,” she says while placing a hand on your shoulder, in an effort to appease you.

At that moment, your supervisor comes out of the store room with Jaemin in tow and approaches you and the other baristas. “Everyone, this is our new employee, Na Jaemin,” she says, introducing him to all of you. “Some of you may know him, as he’s a regular at our cafe. He’ll be working the afternoon shift from Monday to Wednesday. I hope all of you look after him well, and show him the ropes”. She then takes her leave as Jaemin comes to join all of you behind the counter. 

“Hello everyone,” Jaemin greets, his pearly whites appearing as he gives all of you a small bow. So cute! You internally squeal as you greet him back. It was the first time you’d seen him properly smile, as every time he ordered coffee from you, his face had this permanently exhausted look on it thanks to what you can only assume to be the university student life. You return his greeting, relaxing as you realise that maybe Lia was right and he’d forgotten about the incident. 

Or…maybe not. 

“Aren’t you the barista who spilled my drink on me last week?” Jaemin questions as he pours milk into a blender, eyes narrowing into slits as he stares at you. “How do you still have a job? You can’t even serve a drink properly”. 

Okay, that does it for you. First day on the job and he’s already being so rude?

“Can you just forget about it? You got the job in the end, didn’t you?” you snap, making your annoyance clear as you somewhat aggressively spray whipped cream onto a customer’s drink. “Also why are you showing disrespect to colleagues on your first day here? How did you even get hired?”

Jaemin shrugs, and you feel a vexation prick at the back of your neck at his nonchalant attitude. “Bold of you to talk about respect, considering you were pretty disrespectful to me last week by spilling my own drink order on me”.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice from rising to fever pitch, in order to not attract unpleasant attention to the both of you.

Jaemin opens his mouth to retort, but Lia steps in. “Enough, you two. Let’s just move on from the incident, shall we? I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that”. 

Shooting her a grateful look, you move over to the shelf to grab a tea bag to prepare a customer’s order. “Not quite your ideal type anymore, huh?” Lia whispers from next to you as she washes a mug. 

Cringing, you shake your head furiously. “Appearance wise, still yes. Personality-wise, definitely not”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Ever since Jaemin joined the team, it was almost like you couldn’t have a peaceful day at work, especially since you and Jaemin always shared the same shifts. Both of you were constantly at each other's throats now, even over small things, and today wasn't any different.

“Y/n! You didn’t heat this up long enough!” Jaemin hollers, gesturing to the chocolate chip cookie on the counter top. 

Rolling your eyes, you turn around to address him. “You didn’t serve it on time and it’s cooled down, you idiot. Also, Seungkwan asked for an extra espresso shot, which you didn’t add in. Who’s the one who can’t do his job properly now, huh? I hope the boss fires you one of these days”.

As a look of hurt flashes across Jaemin’s face for a fleeting moment, you feel a small pang of guilt hit you. Jaemin covers it up by rolling his eyes at you and muttering “piece of shit”, before moving over to add the extra espresso shot as you shove the plate with the cookie on it into the oven again. At that moment, his ringtone sounds out, and he takes his phone out of his apron pocket. Colour drains from his face at the sight of the caller ID, and he hurriedly excuses himself to the storeroom, leaving you to man the counter yourself since both Lia and the other barista weren’t able to make it to work today. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you inquire, plastering a smile on your face and turning to face the customer, who asks for a cappuccino. 

You open up the mini-fridge below the counter, only to find that there’s no more milk left. No big deal, you could always get more from the bigger fridge in the store room. Heading over to the store room, you push the door open and prepare to step inside when Jaemin’s voice stops you in your tracks. “…what? The surgery costs that much? I thought it was cheaper…” 

Peeking through the door slightly, you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin pacing around the small room and clutching onto a handful of his black hair. From his tone and demeanour, it was evident that he was in a clear state of stress. "Yes, I got the job, but I don't think my earnings from the shifts I'm working currently can cover the costs". Another pause. "It's alright. I'll just ask the supervisor if I can work more shifts. It's more important that grandma gets well. Okay, bye. Send my well-wishes to her". 

Jaemin turns around and you dart back out of the room to avoid being seen, but you still catch a glimpse of the tear drops falling from his eyes, sending a pang to your heart. Sure, you both argued all the time at work, but it didn't mean that you had no empathy for him at all, now that you had an idea of his circumstances — even if it was a vague one. You recall when he lashed out at you for spilling coffee on him just before his interview, and now you're able to better understand his reaction, thanks to the newly learned information about his grandmother’s situation. Yes, his reaction was still rude and unnecessarily harsh, but he was going through a stressful time himself. Guilt floods you suddenly as you think of all the times you'd flung harsh words at him for no reason.

As Jaemin emerges from the store room, you enter and get the milk and start preparing the customer's drink, all while this question replayed in your head: what could you do to help him?

"Y/n!" a clear voice sounds from the cash register, and you recognise it to be your regular customer and best friend from junior college – Chaewon. 

Enthusiastically returning her greeting, you inquire about her order. "Chae! What would you like today?"

Chaewon scans the menu and makes her decision. "I'll get a tall strawberry frappuccino, no whipped, takeaway". 

"No problem!" You answer, and prepare the drink for her as she goes to the side to wait. "One tall strawberry frappuccino for Chaewon!" you announce, and your friend skips up to collect her drink. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you – you deserve it," Chaewon adds with a wink as she stuffs a wad of notes into your hand before sauntering away. "See you in class tomorrow!"

"See you Chae!" you call back. You head into the store room, intending to keep the money in your wallet, until the sight of Jaemin's wallet peeking out of his backpack catches your attention. A thought then hits you: why not give the tips I get to Jaemin? He needs it more than I do, anyway. 

Without a second thought, your hands are already pulling the wallet out of his bag and stashing the tip Chaewon gave you into the wallet. Putting the wallet back where it was, you stride out of the room again as if nothing happened. Yeah, I'll keep doing this. Hopefully it helps to ease Jaemin's financial burden, you think to yourself.  

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes by without a hitch. “Y/n! Good job today, just finish the last order and then you can go,” your supervisor comments, giving you a small smile. “Here’s today’s pay. See you tomorrow!” she finishes, passing you an envelope which contained your day’s earnings. 

“Thank you so much ma’am! See you tomorrow!” You reply, calling for the last customer and then heading off to the store room to collect your bag. Peeking inside, you catch Jaemin gawking at his open wallet, prompting you to just stay outside and observe his reaction for a while. "No way. I don't remember receiving any tips. So how did this cash appear?" he asks himself, opening and closing his wallet repeatedly – even slapping himself at one point. "Oh my goodness. Whichever supernatural power provided me with this, thank you," he whispers, putting his cash into his wallet before shutting it again and placing it in his bag. His stressed expression melts away, and is replaced by a smile – one of relief and hope. The sight makes your heart rate increase faster than you'd like to admit, but you ignore it and exit the coffee shop, glad that you were able to do something to brighten up Jaemin's day. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Jaemin had gotten the green light from your supervisor to work extra shifts, so over the next few weeks you both see each other more often as all his shifts coincide with yours. Though both of you are still rather cold towards each other, you argue less with him as you force yourself to hold your tongue whenever you're tempted to spew unkind things at him, knowing that he was going through a rough time. 

And of course, you continue with your plan of secretly giving him all the tips that customers leave you – whether it was sixty cents or fifty bucks. 

Today's just another day at work, and you overhear Jaemin on the phone as you're busy whipping up drinks for customers again. "Oh my gosh, no way". 

Though you know it’s technically wrong, the saying “eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves” leaves your memory momentarily as you prick up your ears to listen to the conversation, hoping that it was news about his grandmother. As his voice raises in pitch and grows increasingly excited, you feel your heart begin to beat faster as well, like the wings of a bird about to take off. "We only need $50 more and she can get surgery? That's fantastic news!" 

Your heart swelled with joy, so much so that you thought it would burst right there and then in the cafe. Jaemin's grandmother would be saved! Though you didn't know the elderly woman, hearing the news still made you nearly melt in relief. 

"Thank you, see you again!" you flash a bright smile to a customer as you hand them their order. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you!" the customer replies and hands you some cash. Accepting it gratefully, you take a peek at it, and your heart leaps even higher than before at the sight. It's a fifty dollar note!

"Just what Jaemin needs!" you whisper to yourself, stashing the note in your pocket and making a mental note to put the money in his wallet when the day was over, since it was a very busy time at the cafe right now. 

As promised, you secretly stash the note in his wallet again after your shift is over. Hopefully, this covers the costs of the surgery, you think to yourself as you pull the wallet out, unclasp it and stuff the money in. 

“Wait, it’s you?” A familiar voice sounds from behind you, making you jump and whip your head around at breakneck speed as his wallet falls out of your grip and onto the floor with a clatter. 

“Jaemin?” you blurt out dumbly, stunned by your colleague’s sudden appearance. 

“Y/n? It’s you who’s been giving me the extra money?” Jaemin responds, seemingly even more astonished by the whole situation than you were. 

It’s at this moment you realise there’s no point hiding it from him any further — he’d already discovered the "culprit" behind the extra money appearing in his wallet. “Yes, it’s me,” you sigh, handing his wallet back to him. “Look, I'm really sorry about this, but I happened to overhear your phone converstion with someone one day, and you were saying something about there not being enough money to send your grandmother for some kind of surgery or something like that. You seemed so sad and I just couldn’t bear to see it because I know it must be so stressful, having a family member who’s severely ill and not having financial means to get them treatment. So I thought I’d just quietly help you by giving you whatever tips customers left for me — I don’t really need the extra money right now. I did all this secretly, because I was worried you’d accuse me of purposefully eavesdropping or pitying you if you knew what I was doing. Also, it’d be awkward if I were to suddenly start intervening in your family matters since we’re both not really on good terms right now,” you explain, attempting to clear the air of confusion by explaining your intentions. 

For a few moments, the only sound in the store room is the drone of whatever machinery is keeping the old fridge running as Jaemin slowly processes what you'd just told him. Finally, he speaks up. "Y/n, you have absolutely no idea how much that means to me. I was so, so worried when I found out the actual cost of the surgery, and that we might not be able to pay for it on time for my grandmother to survive. For so many nights, I couldn't sleep for so long because I was so worried," he explains. "But thanks to your kind donations, we'll be able to pay for it before she gets it today. Words alone can't express my gratitude to you. Really". He looks up and meets your gaze, and his eyes are moist with emotion. 

Your lips curve into a gentle smile. "I'm glad I could help, Jaemin. I hope your grandmother's surgery goes well, and for her to have a speedy and stable recovery," you answer. 

"I'm going to the hospital to visit her now, so I'll convey your well wishes to her. See you tomorrow, y/n". As he leaves the store room, he shows you a genuine smile, the first one he'd shown you ever since you both became coworkers. 

Your heart melts at the sight, like the marshmallows you used to top orders of hot chocolate. "See you tomorrow, Jaemin". You return his smile, and continue to pack your own things as well before you leave the cafe. As much as you don't want to admit, for some reason this much more pleasant interaction has you using every single ounce of your willpower to stop yourself from squealing out in joy.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

"Y/n!" A familiar voice calls out to you as you start up the coffee machine next Monday morning.

"Oh hey, Jaemin!" You reply calmly as said boy comes up to you, looking much more relaxed and confident, compared to the usual worried and downcast expression etched on his face that had been the norm for the past few weeks. 

"Excuse me," he murmurs, reaching out for the coffee machine and dispensing some into the plastic cup in his hand that was half-filled with ice, before calmly sipping on the beverage. "By the way, my grandmother's surgery was a success, and the doctor's prognosis for her looks good," Jaemin reveals, officially putting your worries about his grandmother to rest. 

"Really? That's awesome!" you exclaim, sharing your coworker's joy over the good news. 

Jaemin nods, a radiant smile forming on his face as he continues. "On behalf of the rest of my family, thank you so much. I know this probably isn't much, but please, let me treat you to a meal one day".

Though you initially refute his suggestion and say it's not necessary, arguing that you were simply helping him out in his time of need, you eventually give in to his insistence. "How is she now? Is she recovering from surgery well?" you inquire as you pile marshmallows onto a cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, when I visited her yesterday, she had regained some of her appetite, and though she still seemed quite tired, she had slightly more energy than before, which are good signs," Jaemin replies, blending a matcha frappuccino. "Actually, do you want to come with me to visit her after work today?" 

"Why not? I don't have anything on today, so I should be able to come," you reply. 

"Alright then!" Jaemin grins, before turning and calling for the customer to pick up their order.

You return your attention to the drink you were making, totally surprised by your exchange with Jaemin earlier — much more pleasant compared to the interactions you’d had prior to this day. Maybe the saying your teachers had drilled into your head since elementary school was true. A small act of kindness could turn a situation around — in this case, it helped Jaemin’s family afford a life-saving surgery for his grandmother, and helped you and Jaemin warm up to each other. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Before you both go to visit his grandmother, Jaemin insists on treating you to a sumptuous burger dinner. Which is how you both end up at a restaurant, with the juiciest chicken burger you've ever seen in your life, along with fries that have been fried to crisp golden brown perfection and a cup of iced lemon tea. 

“How’s life been?” Jaemin asks, tucking into his own burger.

“Oh, it’s been quite chill. I just finished my graduating exam not long ago and am waiting for my results to come out, so I don’t really have much to do. That’s why I took on this job — to earn some money and pass my time,” you explain, picking up a few fries and popping them into your mouth, savouring the crunch that followed. “What about you?”

“University’s been kicking my ass,” Jaemin groans. “The professors have gone ham on my class — who gives their students freaking five essays to finish in a week? On top of that, I’ve got frisbee practices after school and also this job. Luckily my grandmother’s condition has stabilised, or else I’d have even more stress to deal with,” he adds. 

“Oh my, that sounds tough. All the best,” you grunt empathetically, knowing exactly how he felt. Though you had never studied in a university, you’d just finished junior college, and had experienced days where the onslaught of homework seemed never ending, leaving you feeling as if you were going to suffocate to death under the workload that only seemed to get heavier and heavier each day. “Oh yeah — speaking of your grandmother, what exactly happened to her? If you’re not comfortable sharing this with me, please don’t feel obligated to do so,” you hurriedly add at the end. You were aware that this was a very sensitive topic, and that Jaemin might wish to keep such matters to himself. 

“About that…” Jaemin’s voice trails off, and he scratches his head as he contemplates whether to tell you or not. “Okay. I’ll tell you, since you’re the one who basically saved her life,” he decides, before beginning his story. “It was cancer. Stomach cancer. She lost her appetite, and often complained of stomach pain. Initially, we thought that it was simply a stomach bug, and we took her to the doctor who just prescribed her some medication. But she didn’t improve — if anything, she got worse. The day she began vomiting blood, we knew that something was terribly wrong. A check up at the hospital revealed that she had stage 3 stomach cancer”. 

“Oh gosh, that’s horrible,” you muse, brows forming a furrow in the center of your forehead. 

“It was. Our whole family was devastated, especially knowing that she wouldn’t have any chance of survival unless she went for surgery. But at that point of time, my dad had just been laid off, meaning that we weren’t able to afford to pay for the operation. Hence we began scrimping and saving, with my dad taking on three jobs in order to try to earn some money. My mother took on two odd jobs, while also having to look after my younger siblings at home. I was really anxious about my grandmother, and I felt terrible seeing how exhausted my parents were. So, I decided to do whatever I can to help, which is why I took on this job, thinking that the salary I’d earn would be sufficient. But the hospital called back to say that the cost of the surgery would actually be more expensive than we initially thought, since my grandmother’s case was extra complicated, and it sent me back into a panic because I knew that even with extra shifts, the money I earned might not even be able to cover the costs. Gosh, I’m so glad it’s over,” Jaemin finishes, breathing out a sigh. The tears that had welled up in his eyes, now pouring out like rain, spoke volumes just how bleak that period had been for Jaemin. 

The sight of him tearing up made your heart ache. “I’m so sorry you guys went through that,” you murmur, reaching over to rub his shoulder to comfort him. “That must have been so tough. Fortunately, you guys were able to afford the procedure in the end. You're so strong".

Jaemin nods. “And it’s all thanks to you”. 

“Now I know why you were so worked up that day,” you add, thinking back to the day when you’d had your first proper interaction with Jaemin.

A quizzical look comes upon Jaemin’s face. “Which day?” 

“The day you came to the cafe for your job interview. I spilled your drink on you, remember?” you remind him, a sheepish smile gracing your features. 

Jaemin's brows furrow as he searches his brain, trying to recall the moment you had mentioned. His eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers as the memory returns to him. "Oh! Right! Oh my, I still feel so bad about it, jeez," he exclaims, his palm meeting his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that over such a small thing. I think that's why our relationship has been so sour". 

"No, no, it's fine. That was in the past, was it not?" you say, reassuring Jaemin that you don't hold any grudges against him over past events. “I’m sorry too, for saying that I hoped the boss would fire you, when it was a time when you needed this job most”. 

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t even have any memory of that incident, anyway,” Jaemin chuckles, popping the last of his fries into his mouth. “You done? Let’s go, then,” he decides as you nod. 

At the hospital, you get to know Jaemin’s grandmother. She took the chance to express her thanks towards you for donating the money that went towards her life-saving surgery. "Jaemin told me all about it," she mentions. "Thank you so much. Make sure to treat her to something nice," she adds, directing her comment towards Jaemin.

"He already has, and besides, there's no need for it," you chuckle. "I’m just happy that I could help". 

Your evening ends with you and Jaemin spending an hour chatting with the affable elderly lady over the happenings in your lives, who was a pleasure to talk to. "Thank you for coming over to visit! I hope to see you again, y/n. You're coming again tomorrow, right?" she confirms with Jaemin.

"Yep, that's right. See you tomorrow, grandma. Have a good rest," he replies, giving his grandmother a hug before leading you out of the ward and shutting the door. 

The walk out of the hospital is silent, but this time it's a comfortable silence and not one that's permeated by a frosty, cold atmosphere. "So…coming tomorrow?" Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

"I think I can come," you reply. "I should be free. If you and your grandmother are okay with that, of course," you hastily add. 

Jaemin snorts and chortles at your answer. "Of course I'm alright with it! Why would I ask you if I wasn't? And plus my grandmother literally just said she hopes to see you again," he replies. 

"Alright then, I'll come," you confirm, laughs pouring out of your mouth as well. From relentlessly firing abrasive remarks at each other to being able to laugh together, you and Jaemin's relationship sure had come a long way.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

In the days that follow, you find yourself tagging along with Jaemin to visit his grandmother more often whenever you're free after work, and having dinner with him after. Through these interactions, both of you grow closer, and the fluttering in your heart whenever he cracks a joke or pulls a silly antic increases in frequency, which you often try to suppress. As much as you try to deny it, you’ve grown fonder of him as the days go by, as he shows more and more of his true self to you. 

It's also no surprise that now the old lady sees you as her own granddaughter, and often treats you as such. You came to trust her with whatever was on your mind as well, sharing with her deeper things that were on your heart and mind and taking the sensible advice she offered. She would also humour you with many different stories, from both her own and Jaemin's childhood. 

Today, however, was slightly different. You had gone to visit Jaemin's grandmother by yourself, since Jaemin had to attend a project meeting with his group mates after work. So here you were, seated in a chair beside her bed and laughing out loud as she let you in on some of the embarrassing things Jaemin had done in his childhood.

"You know, Jaemin used to be so shy to talk to girls when he was a child. Last time, he'd come and hide behind me whenever girls tried to talk to him. I would have to coax him out just to say hi!" she explains, chortling as she relates the memory to you and your eyes go wide. Jaemin seemed so comfortable around you, you'd never have known that he was so shy as a kid.

"Really?" you ask, letting the surprise sink in.

"Yes, really," his grandmother confirms. "And whenever he liked any girl he never ever made any move to confess. He simply kept his feelings to himself and only ever spoke to me about them". 

"Wow, I didn't know," you laugh.

"Yeah, Jaemin was terribly shy as a child. Come to think of it, you're the only girl he's been this comfortable with," she adds. "I actually think he feels a certain way towards you, but he doesn't want to say anything," she adds.

"How would you know?" You inquire, brows furrowing in surprise. Surely she was wrong?

"He's always bringing you along on his visits, if you're available. And when you're not, it seems to make him feel a bit sad," the old lady begins explaining. "Every visit, he has to mention at least one thing about you – even if it's as small as the smile you gave him when he arrived at work". 

"Oh…I see". You falter in your reply, unsure of how to process what his grandmother had just told you.

"And when I tried asking him about it, he tried so hard to deny his own feelings for you. But I can read my grandson, you know. He likes you more than a friend, but he doesn't want to say anything. He's too shy, and he’s scared that he’ll spoil the friendship between you two," his grandmother adds, before shooting you a question that catches you off guard. "Do you feel the same towards him too?"

"Well I- I…" you stutter even more, unsure of your response. "Okay, maybe I do. At first it was purely due to his looks, because I always saw him order from us during my shifts and found him really handsome. But as I got to know him better, I found things about his personality attractive too. Like how he loves his family so much, he'd willingly sacrifice more of his limited time to work extra shifts to provide the money they need. And how gentle he is towards the people he cares about. There's more, but if I were to list them all I'll be here past visiting hours," you joke, while at the same time voicing your true thoughts and feelings about Jaemin.

His grandmother nods, processing your answer. "I see. From my previous interactions with you, I can tell that you're a sensible, compassionate young lady as well, and I think you'd be a good match for my grandson. Now that you know he feels the same way towards you, will you be bold and take the first step to tell him your feelings?" she asks, looking up at you with hope in her eyes. 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing if you should accede to her request. On one hand, you had come to terms with the fact that you fancied Jaemin more than a friend, and what you felt was probably not just a fleeting crush, and you badly wished to get these feelings off your chest. On the other hand, you were immensely worried about what would happen if you told Jaemin these things. 

That he would see you differently. 

That he’d reject you, and you’d have to deal with the sting that would come after. 

That the friendship between both of you would be affected. 

There was just so much to worry about!

“Y/n, I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re worried about his reaction,” Jaemin’s grandmother drawls understandingly. “But trust me, he’s thinking the exact same things as you, and because of that he’s not willing to make the first move. So, now the ball is in your court. Are you willing to take that risk?” She asks, her gaze on you unmoving. 

“I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” you answer honestly. 

His grandmother nods, grunting in understanding. “Alright then, if you wish. There’s no pressure on you to do anything, really. The choice is really yours. But believe me — it would make his day”. 

That day, you left the hospital in the biggest dilemma you’ve been in for a long while.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

It doesn’t take too long for you to make up your mind. 

“I’m gonna do it”. You declare, striding out of the store room as you tie up your apron. It’s a monday morning, and you’re back at work again.

“Do what?” Lia asks, a quizzical expression coming over her.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot”. 

At this, Lia lets the plastic cups in her hand clatter to the floor. “You’re what?” 

You move quickly to help her pick up the cups. “I said what I said. I’m shooting my shot today”. 

“Yes, yes, I heard you, but with who?” Lia speaks quickly, looking as if she’s just heard the most ridiculous new in her life. 

“Na Jaemin, duh,” you answer, stacking the plastic cups up where they should be. 

“You’re- no way.” 

“Yes way. I’ve decided I’m gonna take my chances today, and if it doesn’t go as planned- oh well, what’s the worst that could happen? At most, I get rejected and I lose a friend,” you reason, explaining your thought process — though more so to try and calm your nerves than to appease Lia’s curiosity. Truth be told, you were becoming extremely jumpy, and you felt like you were going to begin bouncing off the walls any moment.

“Are you insane? There is no way on earth he’s going to reject you!” Lia exclaims, staring at you incredulously. “If he rejects you, it means the sky’s gonna fall down tomorrow”. 

“How are you so sure?” you question, narrowing your eyes into slits as you stare at her. 

“It’s so obvious, duh. I can practically see hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you!” she answers as she gives the countertop a quick wipedown with a cloth. “Bet he’s too shy to speak his mind, though”. 

You shrug in response, arranging a few more mugs on the countertop. “I don’t know. But I’ll see how everything goes”.

“It’ll be more than fine. Trust me,” Lia declares. “But anyway, what’s your plan?”

You whisper your plan into her ear, and her brows furrow disapprovingly. “That’s it? That’s so basic, y/n!” she groans. 

“Hey, basic isn’t always bad!” you exclaim, shoving her playfully. “If it works, it works, okay!”

“Whatever”. Lia rolls her eyes jokingly. “But just know I’m rooting for the both of you”. 

Fortunately, Jaemin shows up to work punctually, meaning that your plan can be put into action. 

“Psst, Jaemin,” you whisper, waving your hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jaemin”.

“Sorry, what?” Jaemin responds, snapping out of his momentary trance.

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned response. “Looks like the mid-afternoon coma is hitting us both — I feel it too. So, I was thinking we make each other a coffee of our choice, just to perk ourselves up. What do you say?”

“Why not? I need the caffeine fix real bad right now anyway,” he reasons, standing up from his chair and moving to where the cups and mugs were placed. “Hot, iced, or ice blended?” he asks. 

“Surprise me”. You simply respond, flashing him a grin. “And I’ll surprise you too”. 

With that, you both begin whipping up drinks for each other. 

You decide to make him a venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew, since his usual order is a cold brew, but you also know that he’s been obsessed with iced vanilla lattes recently — so why not combine the best of both worlds? Being aware that he enjoys having a stronger coffee taste in his drinks, you make his drink a little less sweet. 

This is where your plan comes to life. Picking up a marker, you write this on the cup, taking care to write where the vanilla cream is visible:

Be mine?

▢ yes

▢ no

Now, all that’s left to do is to wait for Jaemin to finish with yours, pass him the drink, and then wait for his response. 

It sounds so simple in theory, so why do my hands feel heavy as lead now? You question mentally as Jaemin reappears, looking slightly sheepish. “Y/n? I’m done with yours, are you finished with mine?” he asks softly. 

“Yes, of course! Here you go,” you exclaim, pass him the cup of cold brew and take your drink, trying to hide how your hands are shaking as if a 9.2 magnitude earthquake is taking place on them. 

The sight of your drink sends a new wave of butterflies flying right through you, while at the same time causing a laugh to bubble up in you, which you fight to keep down. 

Jaemin had made you a classic latte, but with a hilarious yet heartwarming twist. He’d clearly given his best shot at latte art, as shown from the words on the drink which have now almost dissolved into illegible, messy foam streaks. Fortunately for you, you’re still able to comprehend it. 

It’s the exact same thing that you wrote on his cup. 

You peek in Jaemin’s direction and catch sight of him gawking at the writing on his cup. “Y/n…” he trails off, his facial expression a clear giveaway of the shock he’s feeling. “I can’t believe we were thinking the exact same thing!” he exclaims, before bursting into guffaws. 

“I can’t believe it either,” you respond, now laughing your head off along with him. “Gosh, and to think I was so afraid to do this!”

“So was I!” Jaemin chuckles, sipping on the drink. “If only I knew you had almost the exact same plans as I had”.

“Well…I guess our answers to each other are obvious then,” you giggle. By now, you’re smiling so widely, the corners of your mouth could reach your ears, and you feel as if your whole chest is going to explode with how fast and hard your heart is pounding. 

“Well then, cheers to our newfound love for each other,” Jaemin declares, raising his cup and pulling you in for a side hug, all while gazing at you lovingly. 

“Cheers,” you respond, bringing your cup to his as you lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you soak up the warmth of his embrace. 

[nbecermugs]

Ceramic Enamel Mug With White Dots And Rim

[pinkdaiisies]

Where’s your boyfriend? Dale Cooper x reader

Summary: Reader looks forward to Dale's routine morning visit to the Double R diner. The two have grown quite close and Dale finally has something to ask her.

Based off of this request Hello, I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I may request a fic with Dale cooper where the reader (female reader please) is a waitress at the Double R Diner and he asks her out on a date! Coop definitely loves how she makes coffee and is absolutely smitten with the reader... anyway!

Notes: EEEEEE I haven't written anything in soooooooo long. I'm really proud of this and I love Dale so much!!!! I hope you enjoyyy

Word Count: 1285

Dale had been going into the Double R diner every morning since he had arrived at Twin Peaks. Even though the sheriff's department served coffee and donuts every day, Dale couldn't stop himself from sitting down at the same stool every morning for a cup of coffee. If someone asked Dale why he went there every day, he probably would've lied and said something about the quality of their coffee or pie, but deep down Dale knew the real reason why he went there every day. A certain waitress had caught his eye.

The day Dale showed up at the diner you had been quite frightened with the talk of murder going around town. When the tall man in a fancy suit told you he was an FBI agent and he was here to catch the killer you immediately felt a lot safer. You both introduced yourselves and started to chat while Dale enjoyed his cup of coffee. Your first impression of Dale was that he was very intelligent, extremely handsome, and his jokes were a little bit silly. There weren't a lot of guys like him in Twin Peaks.

It soon became Dale's morning ritual to wake up early and head to the diner before he had to go to the station. He heavily enjoyed your company while he drank his coffee. Being with you allowed Dale to escape the scary reality which the Laura Palmer case brought. Your conversations with Dale made you forget of the boring monotonous days the diner gave, each day fading into the next. Dale visiting you every morning gave you something to look forward to. If you got lucky, he would visit another time later in the day with the Sheriff and Deputies Hawk and Brennan.

Norma soon noticed that when you arrived at work in the mornings you were much happier and bubbly than you had been for a while. She also noticed when Dale Cooper walked through those doors, the other tables were not being tended to. Norma understood what was happening between you and the FBI agent. She didn't mind taking a few more orders and cleaning a couple more tables while you flirted away with Cooper.

One morning you had arrived at work earlier than you usually do. You had woken up extra early because you were looking forward to seeing Dale today. You knew your hair looked especially good today too because you kept checking your reflection on the side of the coffee pots.

You made a special pot of strong coffee just for Dale and continued to take customers orders. Even after serving their food and cleaning their tables, there was no sign of the agent. You began to feel disappointed. You had put so much effort into how you look this morning all for Dale to be a no show.

"Where's your FBI agent boyfriend?" Shelly teased while pouring a cup of coffee for a customer.

"I'm wondering the same thing! and he's not my boyfriend." You smirked at Shelly. Everyone could tell that the conversations between you and Dale meant a lot to each other. Dale Cooper had even gotten a handful of teasing from Sheriff Truman. The tension between you two couldn't go unnoticed by anyone.

Almost as if he was summoned, Dale Cooper walked through the diner doors. He immediately caught your attention, and you two smiled at each other. On instinct, you grabbed a mug from under the counter and poured the agent a cup of his coffee as he sat down in his usual stool.

"Good morning y/n! I'm sorry that I'm later than usual." Dale said with a smile on his face. You could tell his apology was sincere.

"That's okay Dale. You don't have to apologize." You said while putting the coffee pot back on the warmer, checking your reflection one last time.

When you turned back around to him, Dale was looking at you intently like he had something important to say. He made eye contact with you and didn't break it. Silence ensued.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me! How is your morning going?" Dale said after a second of awkward silence. He is such a gentleman you thought to yourself. No man in Twin Peaks has ever been so considerate of your feelings. Dale knew how to make you feel seen and heard.

"Better now that you've arrived," You smiled, "I thought you were a no show for a minute." Dale's nerves settled when he heard this. Knowing that you were happy to see him made what he was about to ask much easier.

"y/n. I wouldn't miss your coffee for the world." He said while lifting his coffee in the air then taking a sip. You giggled, your coffee couldn't have been that revolutionary. He smiled and then put his cup down. The look that Dale's eyes had before came back. He looked into your eyes and suddenly seemed nervous. "Can I tell you something?" He said while not once breaking eye contact. You however did break eye contact. It was nerve racking to know that as an FBI agent, Dale has to know how to read people. He was probably taking in all of your micro expressions and analyzing them every time that you spoke to each other. Hell! He probably knew that you had a crush on him!

"You can tell me anything Dale." It was true. You both learned to trust each other throughout the short time that Dale has been in town. Every conversation with him felt easy, you felt like you could tell Dale anything as well.

"I've really enjoyed getting to know you throughout my stay at Twin Peaks. Visiting you every morning has been a highlight of my day." His words made your cheeks blush. You didn't think that Dale's feelings were similar towards your own. "I was wondering y/n, if you'd enlighten me with the pleasure of having dinner together tonight. That is if you don't have any prior commitments."

Your world stopped spinning. It felt like you and Dale were the only two souls in the diner. That was until you heard a giggle coming from Shelly who was close by helping another customer.

"Of course. I'd love to Dale! That sounds great." You flashed him a smile. It felt like the diner got 30 degrees hotter, but that was just the effect that Dale had on you. You were oblivious but you had the same effect on Dale too.

"Great! I can pick you up at your place at 5:30." Dale had a lovesick smile on his face. He could stare at you all day if was able to. Dale took one last gulp from his coffee and stood up from his seat. "I'll see you tonight."

"Goodbye Dale! I'm looking forward to it." You smiled and waved to Dale while he walked out of the diner while somehow keeping his eyes on you. He was about to walk out of the diner door when he stopped himself. He peered his head back through the door.

"One last thing!" You looked back at the agent. "Your hair looks beautiful y/n." Then he walked out and let the door shut behind him.

Shelly and Norma could've sworn that they've never seen a smile that big on your face ever.

"Well he sure does seem like your boyfriend now!" Shelly said. You and Shelly giggled and squealed together like schoolgirls. Norma watched the happy expression on your face from the cash register. She was glad that you found someone that made you that happy.

Dale walked outside to his car while pulling out his tape recorder.

"Diane! I have a date tonight!"

[monsterfloofs]

Thomas (Male Vampire) x Anonymous Reader (sfw)

A cozy writing for @ladyofparchments , thank you so much for being so supportive and sweet, I hope you like it! ;0; )

There is something that is so comforting about a snug coffee shop tucked away inside of a bookstore. Bookstores already have an air of a different kind of patronage to begin with. Many give their visitors more time to dally within the shop. Supplying comfy chairs to sit in, small alcoves to read in. Pages to Doors was a shop that clearly built itself to be a place where it wanted its customers to settle. From the large fireplace beside the cafe, to the big circular table where different clubs would gather. Truely, it was a very smart tactical move on the bookshops' part. Instead of a peruser leaving and possibly cutting their shopping time short to get food, one can simply step inside the little cafe. Get something to eat and drink, and once again wander back into the labyrinth of aisles after their break. The shop can make potentially twice as much money.

I, however, come for a slightly different reason. I come to sit in the presence of books, and the writers that have come before me. I buy something to eat at the cafe, so that I can freely perch at a table and chair. I ask for a cup of hot water so that I can fix my own drink. Not to say that the drinks at the shop aren’t tantalizingly, mouthwateringly, tempting. That kind of premium drink comes with a premium price tag, and I need to cut corners where I can. If I buy the whole tasty package every time I settle in, that money would add up quickly. I settle at a secluded table at the cafe, relieved to set down my juggling act of plate, mug and laptop. It’s the weirdest feeling, but one that has held true for myself for a while now. The more I look around the shelves, instead of being excited to read, the more it makes me want to write. Being in the presence of all these books inspires me to continue to strive ahead. These were all made by writers who had gotten their works published. So many have made it through the process, and all that hard work finally made it onto a shelf for others to read. Perhaps, just perhaps, I can follow in their footsteps.

Fingers flying over keys with a rhythmic clatter, a steady flow of words from mind to page, with pauses to sit, reread, correct and begin again. I hunch further over the keypad, eyebrows knitting together as I mouth the words silently to myself. Looking for that lyrical quality, words that roll off the tongue just as well as they do within the mind. Revise, rewrite, rework, reread.

“Hey,”

A voice causes me to jump, eyes round as I readjust to my surroundings. Eyelids flutter, pressing a hand to my heart.

”Oh stars above, it’s just you.”

Thomas was an acquaintance that I met during my writing sessions at Pages. He worked at the cafe, he had a build on the softer side that lent to giving wonderful hugs. A round heart shaped face, with a slightly hooked nose, and dark eyes that often held a spark of mirth. Some joke that was all of his own to revel in. We became friends quickly, a few days from when we first met. He was easy to talk to, and it was almost mind blowing how many things we had in common when comparing interests.

”Just me?” He teased, “What? You’re not happy to see me then?”

”You know what I mean Thomas,” I huffed with feigned indignation. “I am happy to see you, you just ruined my groove.”

He snorts in amusement. “You’re groove.” Repeating the words before his head titled curiously to the side, “So… what are you working on?”

I shuffle my computer nervously, pulling it closer to myself, “Oh nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow, “It looked very intense for a bit of nothing.”

”Yeahhh, when I am working, I tend to get tunnel vision.” I scratch my head embarrassedly, casting my gaze around in hopes to change the subject. I spotted the apron tucked under his arm.

”Are you heading off to work?”

He grinned, “Actually, I just ended my shift at the cafe, and wouldn’t you know it, I saw this cute person sitting alone. I just had to come over and bother them.”

I gesture cheerfully to the chair at the other side of the table, “Come sit down then! I didn’t see you, otherwise I would have said hi!”

Thomas pulled out the second chair and settled into the seat with an appreciative sigh, “Eh, that’s alright, I was working in the back today.” He glanced at my cup, “Bring in anything good? Have any more tasty teas to recommend?”

"It’s just dirt coffee."

"I– I beg your pardon?"

I blink, realizing I had called it by a personal name of endearment instead of the drink's actual name.

"Oh! Just this dandelion coffee substitute tea stuff!" I watched his blank expression before adding, "what?"

"Well I certainly wasn't expecting that mouthful of words," He laughs, "It's not just tea, or coffee?"

"I mean," I smiled, "It's kind of like a horrible amalgamation of both, by horrible I really awesome, because honestly this is the only way my stomach allows me to drink a coffee like beverage."

He was looking at me with a smile that made his eyes seem to twinkle in the light. He also had learned forward. I watched how his fingers steepled neatly in front of him, patiently waiting for the explanation.

Oh no, oh no, I could feel those too many words at the back of my throat clawing to get out. Those overexplaining, long winded stories, that only got longer the more nervous I was. It was like my brain believed wholeheartedly that if I could just explain myself well enough, I could skirt disaster.

"And?" He asked, it must have been a little too obvious that I suddenly clammed up.

"And?" I replied innocently,

"You are going to deprive me of my knowledge of this, 'dirt coffee' ?" he teased, I bit my lip and took a sip for courage.

"Okay, so back when my nose used to work, I claimed this stuff smelled like dirt and tasted like coffee. So from then on I have always called it 'Dirt Coffee'. Chicory was used as a coffee substitute a long time ago when folks weren't able to get their hands on coffee beans. Apparently this one also uses dandelion in its blend. Wanna sniff?"

To break the tension I cheerfully extended the hand holding my cup forward.

"Ah. No." He politely pushed the cup with the tips or their fingers. "I can smell its concerning aroma from here, thank you very much."

I tossed my head back and grinned shamelessly, as if those worlds held some kind of physical kick back.

"Concerning~" I said in a sing-song voice, "Con-cer-ning?~ Why would it be concerning?"

"I think you just like to say that word," He leaned in closer, I mimicked him, scooting in my chair.

I gasped, "Is that con. cer. ning?" I whispered, and he laughed,

"You're adorable,"

It was such an outspoken phrase, it just hung in the air for a moment.

“…Uh, nah, I'm a clown!" I tried to recover myself, “I warned you of that from the very first time we met! I am simply living up to my archetype.”

”Sure you are,” He rolls his eyes grinning, seeing those curiously sharp of his flash. “Of course, my mistake.”

”You are forgibben,” I joked back, I hesitated before closing the lid of my laptop.

”You know, I would be happy to grab you a drink from the back,” He offered, dark eyes flickering from the cup to my face.

”And deprive me of my lovely dirt?” I asked, before realizing he had started to get up, “Oh— No, no, no seriously it’s okay! If anything this is a push for me to get better at making drinks and stuff.”

”You like barista work?”

“To be honest, I have worked in a coffee shop before. It was not my cup of tea. I liked learning how to make new drinks, but the customers could be feral.”

He winces, sucking air through his teeth. “Sss, yeah. We get our fair share of caffeine deprived coffee addicts, they can be a handful.”

”Just a handful? Gee, I wish I could‘ve seen it like that.”

”I mean the bright side is, now you get to have all the drinks you make right?”

”That’s true!” I beamed.

“So I was wondering,”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,”

We both paused as our words crashed into a jumble.

“Yeah?” I said,

”You go first,”

I clasped my hands together underneath the table. My thumb rubs soothing circles on top of my other hand. “Well uh, we keep meeting like this, so I was thinking…”

”Would you like to meet like this sometime, actually on purpose?” He finished, a subtle hopefulness in his tone.

I pressed my lips together and peered at him.

He glanced away, shrugging one shoulder, ”I mean, sounds fun right?”

I smile, “That’s what I was going to ask, yeah.”

He sighs in relief, “Oh good, same actually.”

We laughed together, a musical blend of relief and nerves.

“Waooow we actually made it through this conversation?” I joked, trying to diffuse and uneasy butterflies that were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

”Gold star for us.” He waggled his eyebrows making me laugh.

Unable to hold back the large grin on my face I looked away, watching the people milling about. It took me a moment before I admitted, ”I would really like that. That sounds lovely, what time are you free?” I kept my eyes elsewhere, feeling my heart beat pick up. The fingers of my hands laced together and squeezed tightly.

”Ah- here.” He pauses to fish a pen and pad of paper out of his back pocket, tearing out a page and scribbling. “This is my number, text me whenever so we can work out the details.”

He slides the paper over to me and I pick up the paper, gingerly folding it in half.

”Okay! That sounds good! I’ll uh, see you later then.”

He nods and stands, pushing his chair in. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t until I was sure he was gone before I let myself take a huge breath and blow it out in a rush.

Oh. Well. Okay.

I expected to do a little writing, have a snack, maybe peruse the shelves. All those thoughts are sidelined now. I scurried to pack up, then dawdled around the door for a while pretending to look at books. If we met up again in the parking lot that would make me look too eager right? Right?? I wobbled out the door, and into the chilly weather outside. Snow was falling gently, in the deep sapphire sky. My breath coming out in visible smokey plumes. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, fumbling with the closing bottoms on the front as I trotted to my car.

I carefully set my laptop into the passenger side, then dumped myself into the driver’s seat. I put the key into the ignition and turned. The metal monster sputters to life, before settling into a content purr. With the car on, and slowly warming up I grabbed my phone. Hitting the numbers on the dial pad multiple times because of my cold fingers.

”Hey sis,”

”Heya, what’s up?”

I started bouncing up and down in my seat. “You know that guy-“

”That cute coffee guy?” She interrupted, “Did he ask you out yet?”

I freeze, pulling my hand back looking at my phone incredulously before slowly putting it back to my ear. “How did you know… that…”

”Oh finally!

“I didn’t even know he liked me?”

”Really?” My sister’s voice flat in dry amusement, “All those times he gives you that look and laughs at your jokes?”

”Wha- My jokes are funny!” I look around, hoping no one bears witness to this. “What do you mean, that look?”

”The l o o k,” The voice on the phone emphasises. “The love struck puppy look, that look.”

I scrunch up my face. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him do that.”

”I have! The one time we went to Pages together. We ordered lunch and you had to run off to use the bathroom. I watched his face fall. He had such a forlorn look on his face, the kinda face one makes when you just dropped a premium cup of coffee.” a pause, “So when’s the date?”

“Um, um, I-I don’t know yet, he gave me his phone number to talk about it.” I said, fidgeting with my snow coat.

”He gave his phone number to you? Did he ask for yours in return?”

I made another face. “… No?”

”Good, good. He’s letting you pick when you feel comfortable enough to text him back, that gets him extra points in my book.”

”Wha… What does that mean?”

”Don’t worry about it.” I can practically hear her voice dripping with glee.

“Okay… I… guess?”

”Good job sissy! Good luck on your date! I’ll chat with you later ta-ta~”

”Sure, okay,” I stare at my phone in utter bewilderment as the call ends.

I know I haven’t had much romantic experience, but that conversation was the icing on the cake. I let my head fall and rest against the steering wheel. Just how far out of my depth was I? Oh boy… this will be interesting.

I put off texting Thomas until tomorrow morning, another cup of dirt coffee in hand. I wrote something, then exuberantly hammered my thumb against the delete key. That sounded too… I dunno. Too something, retry. I started typing again, and looked at what I was saying, “And that’s too wordy, nope.” I popped the last syllable of nope and hammered away at the delete key again. I grumbled, I was treating this one message like I did my writing, I didn’t remember texting ever being this involved. I reread it through and my thumb hovered over the send key. “Oh for goodness sake, just send the darn thing already!” With a harrumph I pressed send and set my phone face down on the table.

It was dark, pitch dark, when a little square of light flickered on with a ding. One new incoming text message, it was like a beckon in the dark. A hand patted around to grab the phone, fingers curling over the bright screen. Thomas squinted at the bright retina blasting light. Half blind but determined to lower the brightness to be able to read the text.

“Hey Thomas, what does your weekend schedule look like? I was thinking we could meet up sometime around eight at Pages to Doors? It could be a good launching point since the plaza has some other places there as well?”

“Yes!” There was a loud rattling thud that came from small dark space, as Thomas moved a little too far forward, hitting his head against the top of something hard and solid.

“Ouch! Dammit!” With one hand rubbing his throbbing forehead, he types back one handedly, “Sounds perfect! I’ll meet you at eight.” He closes his eyes and leans his head back, his phone resting on his stomach. “I just have to wait… twelve hours. I can do that.” Easier said than done, for once he was awake, it was very hard to go back to sleep.

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

[251-dmr]

Weird Coffee Shop Guy

I first noticed the coffee shop employee guy in E1. He looks fairly normal most of the time, like when we see him while Azi and Crowley first meet at the coffee shop. I assume, but can't know for certain, that he is the one Nina mouths and gestures Crowley's 6-shots of espresso order to. He appears to be dressed with pale yellow and orange.

But then, things go weird. And again, later, in E3.

First in E1, ~25:00 time stamp, Maggie arrives as Nina is closing up the shop. Nina walks behind the counter talking with Maggie and off to the side, you see this guy put on what looks A LOT like Azi's grey sweater, turn, and walk behind a completely oblivious Nina. It looks like he is disappearing just as the scene cuts back to Maggie.

Next, jump to the beginning of E3 with Mrs Sandwich in the coffee shop, just prior to Muriel's arrival, ~00:30 time stamp. Again, this guy is there, this time in the red shirt and with a yellow apron.

tl;dr Don't watch Nina, just keep your eye on the employee.

play-by-play in the snippet:

To begin, out of view but off to the right, he has handed off an order to the lady that we only see the top of her head above the coffee mugs as she is leaving. Employee-guy has turned around away from the customer and is heading around towards Nina. We see him there all dark and smudgy off to the right of Nina right at the edge of the screen.

The scene immediately cuts to the opposite view and there we see him making the hand-off to the customer. Note that he is using a cell phone. At almost this same time, Nina gets her notification. I suspect this is just a coincidence to throw us off. I think.

While Nina reads her message, employee-guy walks around and behind her -- who is still basically ignoring him, not seeing him? He still has his phone in hand, looking like he's using it.

I've snipped out a couple of seconds of dialog between Mrs Sandwich and Nina where we don't see employee guy.

Now, here's the really weird stuff: when we return to viewing Nina, this guy basically just walks right out from the shelves behind Nina! All small and out of proportion, and I don't think he has his phone.

This is the weirdest thing I've come across so far and I have no explanation at this time. I only know that there is something very strange on Whickber St.

[Sorry for the poor-quality gifs and video. I'm brand new at this stuff and don't really have the hang of it.]