#about: i wanna be yours

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐. hot chocolate⠀𓏔⠀bangchan⠀❫

☆ㅤbarista!bangchan x afab!reader ( i wanna be yours oneshots )⠀★⠀9.1k words

( i'm sorry if this sucks, i know it's long. have a nice day cuties ♡ )

synopsys: every time you tell someone that you don't like coffee, the reaction is total incomprehension, even indignation. but when your university classmates leave you standing at the café where your crush works, you decide to order a coffee to try to avoid looking bad and end up making a fool of yourself. warnings: i think fluff bangchan needs a warning by itself because woah you can become addicted. but a part from that, there's a brief mention of death while talking about korean mithology, reader is a very introverted and insecure person ーexpect a lot of sad thoughts :(( but felix is here to save the day and hopefully the rest of the story is a little bit of idiots who have a crush on each other.

You were stressed because the first semester was about to end, you had Christmas vacations around the corner, exams approaching at an overwhelming speed, and yet one of your teachers had given you two last-minute projects, one practical and one theoretical. Luckily it was in groups, and your best friend, Hyunjin, had included you in his after a quick pleading glance, assuring you some peace of mind. Not that he was very good at the academic aspect ーnotes, exams, homework and studying in generalー, but he made up for it with a great sense of aesthetic, and managed to make all your projects really visually appealing. Also, your other two friends were very nice and very good at the subject, so whenever you didn't understand something they would always offer to explain it to you with a big smile and kind words.

If they had a flaw, unfortunately, it was being late absolutely everywhere. And perhaps an unhealthy addiction to coffee, although that was not so much a flaw as a general characteristic of the vast majority of students. Sadly, neither of the two suited you at the moment, when you found yourself in front of the most famous coffee shop on the entire campus, all by yourself, after you had been forced to walk more meters than you were willing to do on a normal day, as they didn't show up at the appointed time. Having to enter without his company was not what worried you, but what you would have to face once inside.

To say you hated coffee would be an exaggeration. In fact, during exam week you would have a couple of cups to avoid falling asleep over your notes on those endless nights of studying, or in the middle of class, but it just wasn't your favorite flavor. You hated the taste. Too bitter, the unpleasant aftertaste instantly drying your mouth and lingering on your tongue as an annoying reminder of the beverage you had just tasted. You always grimaced terribly when you took your first sip, something that anyone watching you found absurdly funny, and then, as you swallowed, even with your eyes closed, a shiver would run through your spine, as if your body recognized the drink and reacted to it.

The problem was that 5STAR was a coffee shop that specialized in coffee. They had scones, and cookies, and brownies to go with it, but they didn't make smoothies or juices. And you usually only went there with Hyunjin, who had been responsible for asking if they could make hot chocolate that first afternoon you had met to study there, a couple of years ago, before he had even started working in the establishment. You had been so embarrassed that it had taken you quite a while to return, and since then you had always left it up to him to order for you, after you had made sure that the barista who was serving was either him or Felix, the blond, freckle-faced Australian you went to class with, because you had never felt judged by his smile upon discovering that the chocolate was for you.

But now you were alone, on the sidewalk, and the time you had spent looking inside the place was starting to look weird. Your options were simple: go in, order a hot chocolate, sit down to prepare the subject and pretend it was the most normal thing in the world, or go in, order the first coffee you saw on the menu hanging on the wall, sit down to prepare the subject and wait for Hyunjin to come through the door to ask him to drink it. Obviously, you chose the second option, too tempted at the thought that someone might judge you, so you closed your eyes, took a breath of air, and pushed open the heavy glass door, praying that the barista who was serving at that moment wasn't the cute guy who, you had to admit, you had a little crush on.

But there he was, behind the counter, with a friendly smile plastered on his face, his dimples appearing and disappearing as he moved his lips to talk to the customer in front of him. He had decided not to put on the beanie he usually wore almost every day, and his thick curls spilled over his head, giving him a more relaxed look, in contrast to the serious outfit that was the café's uniform, with black pants and T-shirt and beige apron. You knew relatively little about him, such as that his name was Chris and he had been at the same college you went to, but shooting him quick glances whenever you went and he was there was your favorite hobby.

You cleared your throat, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear in a nervous gesture and stood in line, fiddling with your phone case, pulling out a corner and putting it back to pretend your hands weren't shaking. You didn't normally get so nervous about social interactions, but it was true that your natural shyness and introverted nature have given you more than one bad experience. And the fact that you were going to talk to Chris for the first time only made your anxiety skyrocket, because you know you weren't able to control what you say. Your mind went on autopilot, and all you' were left with was remembering for weeks the nonsense you had blurted out, unable to change a single word. You tried to formulate in your head the phrase you're going to use as the queue slowly moved forward, your gaze locked on the way you move your feet as you walked.

"Hello?" you heard, lifting your head so fast you feared you'd hurt your neck. Great, you were so distracted you didn't notice when it was your turn.

"Hi" you replied, forcing your eyes to fix on his and stopping them from roaming over every feature of his face. Fixing on his but blinking normally, you reminded yourself, clearing your throat again.

"Good afternoon" he repeated, his voice soft and gentle, one of his hands already over the screen to take down your order. "What will you have?"

"Oh..." you murmured, trying to rescue from your memory the phrase you had prepared. Don't say hot chocolate, don't say hot chocolate, don't say... "Hot chocolate."

"Huh?" he asked, his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowing in adorable confusion. You realized your tone was too low and he probably hadn't heard you correctly, though it was clear you had said something, denying you the chance to make up another answer to cover your mistake.

"Hot chocolate" you whispered again, glancing at the three people behind you, trying not to let them hear. You noticed the heat flushing your cheeks as you spoke, "Can you, uh, can you say it's something else?"

"Excuse me?" you couldn't help but watch his frown deepen even more, and you made a panicked face, trying to find a convincing excuse that didn't expose your null extroverted abilities or how poorly you had approached the conversation. Chris realized almost instantly how it was affecting you, and reached a hand over the counter to caress yours, relaxing his features. "Hey, hey, I just don't understand what you mean."

You heard the hammering of your heartbeat all over the place, drowning out the background noise as it rumbled in your ears, or in the muscles of your hand that were in contact with the barista's skin, but mostly in your chest, at such a volume that for a moment you feared all the café would be able to hear it. You swallowed saliva with difficulty, your mouth suddenly completely dry, and tried to formulate something that made a minimal amount of sense, "I'd rather not drink coffee, but I don't want those in the back to know that I ordered hot chocolate."

And then you saw him flash that smile you loved so much, trying to stifle a laugh, and he nodded, withdrawing his hand from above yours to write it down.

"Don't worry, I'll personally take care of your order" he assured you, his eyes glinting at the screen, biting his lip unconsciously in a gesture of concentration. "A mocca coffee, then, right?" he said, raising his tone a little.

"Yes" you replied, avoiding his gaze, shyly, when he shifted it slightly towards you to ask for your name. You set your phone down on the marbled surface of the counter to rummage through your totebag for your wallet. "It's to take here, not to go."

"Oh, then I'll bring it to you at the table when it's ready," he announced, leaning on his forearms to look down at you.

"But..., how much is it?" you asked, confused, the wallet open in your hands, a few coins on your palm.

"It's on the house" he answered you, his dimples accentuating.

The warmth in your cheeks spread across your face, and you made a little bow, knowing that you must have been flushed to your ears. You didn't bother struggling to hide your smile, and hurriedly put away your wallet, grabbing your phone and mumbling some kind of nervous thank you. When you turned around, your face out of Chris's gaze, you sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks to calm down a bit, and looked around for some table to sit at. The one you normally occupied was being used by a girl, but there were few people at that time, so you chose a nearby one, assuming Hyunjin wouldn't mind, and once everything was ready you started to take out the material.

You had brought your laptop, of course, and had printed out some ideas you'd had, sketching in the margins how you intended to cover the visual part 一although that was taken care of by Hyunjin. But you knew he was a bit chaotic, so having a base for what the presentation would look like always came in handy. That day you were going to prepare the theoretical part, in which you were to choose a song and a theme, write a long document stating your reasons, and then prepare a performance in which you would narrate some typical legend of the country through dance. As if you had the mental capacity to create a choreography from scratch at this point of the semester.

You knew it was going to be a relatively short meeting, because you were all out of time, so you entertained yourself looking for songs that would inspire you for the theme you had chosen, the Jeosung Saja. To tell the truth you had no idea about Korean mythology, but you had spent the whole afternoon looking for ideas on the internet and that was the most likely to present a good dance. They were messengers from the afterlife, those who guided the dead to the afterlife. You had read that they were usually represented with a black hanbok, and they also appeared in some dorama that had become famous, so you could develop a dark aesthetic, as Hyunjin liked so much.

You were so engrossed in rereading what you had written on your laptop screen, and in the list of songs recommended by the teacher, that you didn't notice that Chris had left the cup of chocolate on the table. You had to contain the pout you wanted to make, because you were sure he hadn't said anything to avoid disturbing you. It smelled wonderful, and he had left you a plate with a buttery croissant next to the hot chocolate, with a folded paper napkin that read "a mocha for the lovely girl at table 8 :))". Your lips began to curl into a smile as you took the napkin and carefully tucked it away in your planner, unable to stay focused on the music anymore.

Just as you had taken the cup in your hands, the temperature of the porcelain fighting the coldness of your skin, and warming your throat as you tasted it, Hyunjin and Felix entered the room, a chaos of laughter and exclamations, Sunwoo following closely behind, engaged in their conversation. You pretended to wince angrily, frowning and hastily putting the cup down on the table to cross your arms over your chest, giving Hyunjin a dirty look. When the boy noticed your state he hurried to sit next to you, his chin resting on your shoulder, mumbling various apologies about his delay.

"It was my fault, Ynnie," stated Sunwoo, setting his backpack on the table and sitting down across from you. "We were practicing the dance in Professor Park's class and there was a sequence of steps that kept going wrong for me."

"Don't worry, Woo" you replied, snuggling up next to Hyunjin, like always when you were together. "I'm doing it to annoy him."

"And what are you going to complain about if you got your chocolate?" you heard him mutter, picking up the cup to steal a sip from you.

"No thanks to you" you whispered back, taking it from his hands to drink yourself.

"Oooh, come on, don't be like that" he protested, his head resting on your shoulder, rolling his eyes, which managed to snatch some laughter from Felix. At your silence he turned just enough so he could make eye contact with you. "Are you really mad?"

"No."

"But?" he asked, knowing from the way you were that you weren't going to let on how much it had upset you if that had been the case.

"I had a hard time" you muttered, hiding behind your cup. "Neither Felix nor you were here to save me from having to ask for it myself."

"Whose turn was it today?" Sunwoo spoke up, turning to Hyunjin as he pulled out his own laptop.

"Chris" you replied, your cheeks reddening again.

"Oh" Felix said, before cracking a smile that hid how much he was dying to let out a squeal of excitement, "oooh."

"Oh, what?" asked Hyunjin, peeling slightly away from you and frowning in confusion.

"Nothing" you ended the conversation with a warning gesture to Felix, who pretended to run a zipper over his lips, and handed out the printed sheets of paper with the information you had found the previous afternoon, trying to get started on the project. "Well, I had thought about..."

"No, oh, what?" repeated Hyune, completely ignoring the written words and dividing his attention between the freckled boy in front of him and you, "what does he know that I don't?"

"Dude, if you don't know it's because you're just blind" Sunwoo stated, focused on the information, with a gesture of disbelief on his face.

"Guys, please" you requested, avoiding looking at Hyunjin and glancing back down at the sheet. "As I was saying, I had thought of basing our dance on the legend of the Jeosung Saja. You have a summary there, but I'll comment quickly: we can create a story from scratch about someone's death, and have two of us act as the Korean messengers, who let him say goodbye to the love of his life before guiding him to the afterlife, or something like that. I don't have the music yet, but it sounds like a good plan."

"It says here that we'd have to look for some black hanbok" Sunwoo pointed out, as you nodded, and shared a look with you, implying that he approved of the idea, already looking for ways to carry it out.

"Actually, I had thought of something else" Felix muttered, his fingers fiddling with the paper nervously. "Ehm, I read an article yesterday about these... Korean ghosts. They're called Gwisin, and there are four types, like us, there are four of us. There's Cheonyeo, which is the virgin ghost, Mul is the water ghost, Chonggak is the single man ghost, and Dalgyal is the egg ghost. There's only one girl, so it seemed perfect to me. It still has dark aesthetics, because they are wandering spirits of humans who have died with unfinished business, and also to record the dance we can talk to my friend Jake, who is doing a degree in photography and is good with cameras."

"I was going to propose Han or Chris to help us with the music" Sunwoo added, "because with all the time they spend glued to their laptops they're sure to have some track we can use, and we don't even need lyrics."

"Oh, it's actually much better than my idea, Felix" you agreed, closing the tab with the information you had searched for and starting to research about the Gwisin. As you read, you brainstormed, rambling outloud. "We can connect the lives of the four characters, do four solos that blend together, and add minutes of duets until, at the end, all four spirits end up accomplishing the unfinished business they had and do a final scene together"

"Yes!" exclaimed Felix, excited. "Just what I had thought. They've made scary movies about the Gwisin, but we can give it a dramatic twist. The virgin girl was an unrequited love of the water ghost, for example. We're going to have to get a pool to shoot the moment when he dances, you know, when he drowns and dies."

"That can be the start of the dance" proposed Sunwoo.

"I offer it to be me, if you want" said Felix, "I don't mind getting in the pool in December. I have enough experience in cold water, from when I was in Australia."

"Perfect" you affirmed, glad that you had gotten the job on track so well in such a short time. "I think we can go straight back to the studio to prepare the music, what do you think, Hyune?"

He had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout your talk, head resting on the back of the seat and gazing blankly, taking small sips from the cup of hot chocolate, with absent-minded gestures. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, as he slowly nibbled at the croissant Chris had left for you. There was something that had been bothering him.

"I need a coffee," he muttered, leaving your empty cup on the table and ignoring your question, "would you like another chocolate?"

"Hyune..." you mumbled, confused at his attitude.

"I'll order it to go, don't worry" he added, grabbing his backpack. "I think Han is at home and has the 3racha equipment."

You shrugged as he stood up, and you then began to pick up your laptop and notebook, shoving them into your bag in a hurry to keep up with Felix and Sunwoo, who had hardly had to put anything away. Sunwoo had his own laptop already in the case, and Felix was folding the paper you had printed out, carefully, to tuck it between his notebooks, into his backpack. The three of you headed outside, to wait for Hyunjin, while Felix ran a hand around your waist, trying to coax information out of you.

"So..., Chris, huh?"

"Can we talk about how Hyunjin is mad for talking about it in front of him when he doesn't know anything?" you replied, giving him a loving punch on the arm. "Drop the topic."

"But it's the first time you've talked to him!" he protested, pouting, "I want to know everything!"

"YN is right, Lix," Sunwoo supported you, to which you shot him a grateful look. "Hyunjin is our creative soul and he hasn't blurted out a single word, that says a lot about the situation."

"I'm going to have to tell him about the crush, anyway" you stated, making the decision on the spot, leaning against Felix, "because it's not fair that he doesn't know."

"I don't understand why you haven't told him yet" he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hyunjin and Chris work together" you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "and besides, they're close friends."

"So does Felix" Sunwoo reproached, frowning.

"Felix keeps my secrets" you confessed, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile. "Hyune is too much of a gossip to keep that sort of thing to himself."

"If you tell him it's a secret he sure won't let it out" Felix muttered, defending his friend.

You glanced inside the shop, where Hyunjin was leaning against the counter, throwing his head back every time he let out a laugh, while Chris was talking to him, moving fluidly between the machines, preparing the order with expert hands. You couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at his familiarity. You weren't used to feeling this way about your friends, but the way Hyunjin's eyes twinkled at the jokes the barista would drop with a serious gesture and then burst into adorable laughter made you wonder if you hadn't been a little blind to their interactions. You tried not to think too much about it, but you had always had very bad luck with your crushes, something that had only increased your insecurities, and had forced you to keep a low profile on such matters.

"YN?" murmured Felix, one hand caressing your shoulder in an affectionate gesture. "You know he wouldn't say anything, right?"

"I know, it's just..." you lost the thread of your words, absorbed in the scene unfolding behind the glass, Chris reaching for a black marker to write something down on one of the take away cups, Hyunjin too busy searching for his wallet in his backpack to notice.

"Whatever you're overthinking right now isn't true" you heard the freckled blond say, drawing your attention back to him. "It's not the first time you've broken your own heart by heeding unrealistic assumptions you've got stuck in your head. Trust Hyunjin, he would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know," you repeated, turning to face away from the café, but avoiding making eye contact with him, "but I don't... I know and I repeat it to myself, but sometimes I just don't listen, even if it's true."

When you looked up, your eyes beginning to fill with tears you didn't intend to shed, Felix was giving you a look full of understanding. You had few friends as close to your heart as he and Hyunjin, but between Lix and you there had always been a kind of connection built on a common bond, as had been the constant insecurities that only you were able to keep from escalating.

"Let me know when it's like this," he asked, his hand leaving your shoulder and running down your arm until it came to fidget with your fingers, "give me a sign, or look at me. I'll remind you."

You nodded, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck, letting yourself be comforted by his touch, and managed to muster a smile as he tried to give you a hug but your totebag blocked his way. You saw him pout, and you let out a laugh, being interrupted by a shy cough from Sunwoo, who had taken a couple of steps away to give you privacy.

"I'm talking to Han and he asked me what kind of music we're looking for" he explained, pointing to his phone, "in case he can go looking through the songs they have already done or half done, so we don't have to start something new."

"Oh, sure" you said, frowning in a thoughtful gesture. "I'd say something dark, wouldn't you?"

"No doubt" Felix seconded, nodding at your words.

"And since the main choreographer is Hyune, add elegant and heart-wrenching as well" you straightened your figure, watching as Sunwoo typed hurriedly, his fingers speeding over the screen, "if what we're going to narrate is a story of unrequited love, and death, we'd better do something dramatic."

"A hot chocolate!" exclaimed Hyunjin, pushing the door open with his hip, both hands busy with the take away cups. "A hot chocolate for you, and coffee for me."

"Thank you, Hyune" you whispered, leaving a kiss on his cheek as he handed you the cup, again grateful for the warmth emanating from it.

"Looks to me like it has a message, Ynnie" Felix said to you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, pointing to the letters you could guess under your fingers. You noticed how your cheeks flushed again, moving your hands so you could read all the words, and recognizing Chris's neat handwriting.

"What the hell are you talking about?" exclaimed Hyunjin, rushing over to you to try to read it first. "What does it say?"

"Thought you were really cute, leave my number here" you murmured, starting to crack a big smile, savoring the words as you said them, your heart skipping a beat when you saw that he had drawn a smiley face again and you imagined him, showing his dimples.

Hyunjin had repeated it again aloud, and you heard Felix stifle a gasp, holding his hands to his mouth, his face the vivid image of surprise. Sunwoo had merely let out a laugh and shook his head, as if he didn't believe what had just happened, still holding his phone in his hand. When you looked up, you found disbelief tinting Hyunjin's eyes, one of his hands still holding your arm from when he had rushed to read message over your shoulder.

"Oh," you breathed, causing Felix to snort.

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you expect me to say?" you replied, a soft chuckle bubbling up inside you.

"At least say hello to him through the glass," Sunwoo suggested to you, tilting his head in the direction of the café, which was at your back, "the poor guy looks like he wants to turn into a giraffe, from how much he's stretching his neck this way."

You turned your head as soon as you processed what Woo had just said, listening to Hyunjin complaining if that had anything to do with what Felix had said when you had confessed that the barista who had served you was Chris. Just as your friend had said, Chris was resting his hands on the counter, his body almost hovering completely over the surface, trying to figure out what your reaction had been. The moment you made eye contact, and gave him a shy smile, he couldn't help but turn with a jerk, suddenly suddenly busy with a non-existent order.

"Ynnie has a cruush" Felix crooned, causing Hyunjin to open his mouth in a gesture of exaggerated drama that you totally deserved.

"And you weren't planning on telling me anything!" he exclaimed, indignantly.

"She was literally going to tell you now" Sunwoo interjected, helping you balance the tragedy, "but Chris beat you to it."

"I have to tell Changbin" commented Felix, picking up his phone, "now he owes me money."

"You were keeping a bet on them?" asked Hyunjin, pouting. "Did everyone know but me?"

"Hyune, YN doesn't know how to pretend" explained Felix, resting a hand on his shoulder as he reached for Changbin's contact, "Changbin only needed to spend a few minutes with her at the café to figure it out."

While they started a new argument on the topic, you brought the glass to your lips, wanting to taste that drink that you liked so much, and that now that you knew that Chris had prepared it with so much love, it had become your favorite. But as soon as you took a sip and the bitter taste of coffee settled in your mouth, you pushed the glass away, trying to avoid looking into the coffee shop with a confused gesture, and taking the cap off, as if you wanted to make sure that what you had just drunk was definitely not chocolate. But when you breathed in the unmistakable smell of coffee, you noticed how your chest contracted. And suddenly you saw, as if in slow motion, the interaction Chris had had with Hyunjin while you waited, the adoration with which the barista had watched your friend laugh. How he had taken advantage of just when Hyunjin wasn't looking to write the note in his coffee, all those times you had caught them talking and they had fallen silent in your presence. How, yet again, the guy you'd fallen for chose someone else over you, another crush that ended badly, and it pained you to look back and only see a trail of stories in which the only heart that had ended up breaking was yours.

"Hey, let's get going, shall we?" proposed Sunwoo, getting your attention.

You listened as Felix and Hyunjin agreed with him with small nods, but without letting go of their playful bickering, taking off walking towards the apartment where the latter lived with Han Jisung. You had heard them, but all your enthusiasm for the project had vanished, leaving in its place a constant stinging in your eyes, which struggled not to tear up in the middle of the street.

"YN, aren't you coming?" asked Hyunjin, stopping everyone when he realized you weren't with them, that you had stayed behind.

You managed to shake your head, a small movement that was enough to make your friend frown, taking a couple of steps towards you. You tried to compose yourself, ignoring your feelings 一at least for the moment一 and swallowed before formulating the first excuse that came to mind:

"I'm... not feeling too well, guys" you stammered, intensifying your gaze towards Sunwoo, who was the most likely to let you go without asking too many questions.

"But a moment ago you were perfectly fine" Felix muttered, and you noticed his eyes on you, trying to unravel the hidden reasons for your departure.

"I'd rather go home" you said, in a whimper, the warmth of the glass that had comforted you so much a few seconds ago suddenly burning your skin, "you guys can choose the music. It's Lix's idea anyway, it's only fair that he gets to decide."

"Are you sure?" asked Hyunjin, coming up to you, putting the back of his hand on your forehead, like a worried mother would do with her baby.

"Mm-hm" you held out the coffee cup, unable to hold it for much longer, for him to take, and made the mistake of looking at Felix before blurting out a "this is yours" directed at Hyunjin.

You cleared your throat, placing the straps of your totebag more comfortably over your shoulder, and muttered some sort of goodbye before turning and running away, not quite witnessing the way Felix had snatched the cup from Hyunjin to check its contents, and letting out a frustration-laden sigh as he realized what your train of thought had been.

The rest of the afternoon had not been very relevant. You had work to do, like everyone else, and you were also one of those people who wanted to get all your notes done before the Christmas vacations, so you used to spend all December writing again with better caligraphy all the topics you've learned throught the semester. You didn't want to collapse yet, you preferred to keep your head busy, trying to pretend that nothing had happened until you couldn't take any more. In any case, you had already entered that stage where you began to belittle your own thoughts, doubting that your response to the situation had been the right one.

Or, if you stopped to think about it long enough, you could almost see your insecurities swirling around your heart, suffocating you from inside your own chest. That's why you had immersed yourself in the most difficult subjects, praying that filling your head with information would empty it of stupid reasonings. And you had succeeded in your purpose, at least for as many hours as possible, until you heard your phone ring between the couch cushions and snapped out of your self-absorption to answer it.

"Yeah?" you mumbled, your mouth dry from having gone so long without speaking, not paying attention to who was calling you at that hour.

"Ynnie" you heard Felix say, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "How are you?"

"How am I?" you repeated, clearing your throat and straightening your posture, as if he could see you and you had to play the role of carefree teenager. "Fine. Well, stressed about finals, but like everyone else, I guess, right?"

The laugh that escaped your lips without permission sounded too fake, and you closed your eyes, wincing, because you knew it wouldn't be believable. You obviously knew Felix wasn't an idiot. He'd probably realized you'd left for a compelling reason, and not exactly because you'd suddenly been struck by a migraine or a tummy ache. You considered lying and saying that you'd had your period the day before; he knew perfectly well that you had a really bad time the first few days. But it wasn't going to be worth it.

"You know that coffee..." he started to explain, his tone totally serious, as if he was telling you off.

"Stop" you interrupted him, standing up, your notebooks and papers strewn across the table, being ignored, as you paced around the room like a caged lion. "I don't want to talk about it, don't bring it up, please."

On the other end of the line, Felix made eye contact with Hyunjin, who was sitting next to him, listening to the whole conversation, and let out a long sigh, "Okay" he agreed, unable to force the conversation, "but remember what I told you, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever" you whispered, trying to avoid having to give an answer. "Did you call me to talk about that?"

"No, actually" he stated, and your lips curved into a sad smile at the emptiness you felt when you realized he had dropped the subject, just as you had asked. You didn't know if it was relief at not having to deal with the situation, or if you were hurt at how quickly he had given up, "It's about the music for the project."

"Do you guys have the song yet?"

"We need you to choose it," you had spoken practically at the same time, the silence that followed the cacophony of voices heavy on your shoulders, and Felix held his breath, waiting for an answer he didn't know if it would come.

"You can send me an audio of the options Jisung has, can't you?" you asked, hoping your friend wasn't asking what you knew he was going to ask.

"He has them on his laptop" he added, without actually explaining what he intended for you to do.

"Aren't you with him?" you frowned in a confused gesture, not understanding what was going through his head, "can't you ask him to put them on?"

"I'm at my place" he confessed, and you heard the movement of clothes as they brushed against each other, you guessed he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting, "Hyune and I came over after talking to Han because he had to meet his group from his AV Tech class. But he's going to stop by later, in case you wanted to come."

"Ah," you breathed, suddenly understanding. Probably what he wanted was for you to get out of your apartment, perhaps intending that you wouldn't be able to resist the pout on Hyunjin's face when you were told that the coffee scene had been a misunderstanding. You could agree to the former... The latter was more complicated.

"We can order your favorite pizza, and then you can stay over," he proposed, taking the risk that such insistence would push you away, "what do you say?"

You contemplated your options. You could use Seungmin, your roommate, as an excuse, but Felix was capable of texting him to confirm your alibi, and no one could resist Felix. Deep down, you knew you were going to end up going, but for a few seconds you allowed yourself to imagine what you could say to him to get him to leave you alone. You took a breath of air, leaning against the hallway wall, and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to think about how much you could come to regret your decision.

"But you have to promise me one thing," you announced, hearing Hyunjin's celebratory whispers on the other end of the line, "we don't talk about what happened this afternoon. Not today, not ever."

Felix snorted, against the idea, considering another way to approach the conversation to get you to stop thinking about it, but since he had shared with Hyunjin the plan he had developed while Han was showing them his music, and the boy was completely lacking in any kind of censure, he couldn't stop himself from exclaiming, "Okay! But you come!"

Felix heard you mutter a farewell before hanging up, and he stared at his friend with annoyance written all over his face. He knew that, although the way he had said it had sounded suspicious, Hyunjin had done it for everyone's sake, but he couldn't help but give him a murderous glare for not letting him have his way. The boy shrugged, unfazed by his antics, and rose from the bed, arching his eyebrow in his direction, ready to have the last word:

"I hope you time it right and this goes well."

When you arrived, fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a thick coat and one of your colorful scarves, but with your pajamas underneath, the pizzas had already arrived. You saw them on the kitchen counter, filling everything with a delicious aroma of bacon and cheese, when Felix opened the door with a smile. You lifted your backpack with a condescending grimace, implying that you had brought a change of clothes and your overnight kit, agreeing to spend the night in his apartment, and he let out a chuckle that almost managed to break the imperturbable facade with which you had decided to wear.

"Hyune is choosing film" he informed you, helping you take off your coat to hang it in the closet.

You tried to ignore the sting you felt in your chest at the memory of the circumstances under which you had said goodbye to Hyunjin, and promised yourself to make it up to him somehow. He didn't deserve to deal with your feelings like that, not when it wasn't his fault that your crush was onto him. So you headed straight for the small living room, where your friend took up the entire length of the couch thanks to his height, and you threw yourself on top him gently, letting him give you a hug as he chuckled awkwardly, his lungs taking in less air than they let out thanks to the extra weight of your body on top of his.

"What do you have in mind?" you asked him, looking at the television screen, and the endless possibilities the audiovisual platform offered.

"I haven't really chosen between Alice in Wonderland and Nightmare Before Christmas" he acknowledged, following your gaze, locating the second one he had mentioned in the bottom corner.

"Mmm, which of the Alice versions are we talking about?" 

"The first one" he told you, "the live action one."

"Oh, put that one on, please" you asked, trying to adopt your best pleading face, pouting in the same way you had seen Felix do so many times. You watched as he erased what he had written on the browser and followed your instructions, while you basked in the warmth of the fabric of his hoodie against your cheek, and his arm across your back. You could have stayed there, half asleep, for the rest of the semester, for the rest of the year even, if it hadn't been for how loud the bell had been when it rang, Hyunjin straining underneath you.

"That must be Jisung" you surmised, getting up much to your dismay, "I'll go open the door."

Felix was too busy in the kitchen, hands full of brownie batter, so you walked down the hallway back to the front door, peeking through the peephole to make sure it was Han on the other side. But your breath caught as you recognized the features of the barista you'd seen just hours earlier at 5STAR. You opened your eyes wide, not knowing how to react, and peeked into the kitchen to ask Felix. To your surprise, he was already watching, confirming to you, as soon as you saw his apologetic smile, that this was all his doing.

You decided not to say a single word, and focus on calming your racing heart before facing an interaction with Chris again. The doorbell rang again, jolting you out of your self-absorption with a scare, and you hurried to unlock the door, opening it with a smile that you liked to think it was normal.

"Hello" you said to him, proud that your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

"Oh" he breathed, his surprised eyes roaming over your features, "hi." You saw him flash a beautiful smile, and raise his hand to wave at you, as if he were a little boy excited to meet a new friend. "The lovely girl from table 8."

"That's me" you replied, opening the door wider so he could come in, "thank you for inviting me to the chocolate, I don't know if the croissant was tasty or not because Hyunjin ate it, but I bet it was."

Mentioning your friend's name just to see how he reacted had been a pathetic move, but you hadn't been able to stop yourself. If you could turn back time you would have bitten your tongue, though, after watching his ears blush at your words, proving you right. You swallowed the knot in your throat when you heard his giggles, and he walked into the apartment, taking off his coat.

"I wouldn't say it's my best recipe, but thanks for the confidence" he commented to you, and you took his coat, just as Felix had done with you, to hang it in the closet. You tried not to make it too obvious the way you checked that he was still wearing his café uniform, the sleeves of the black t-shirt tracing his arms. "I'll have to let you try it on another time, then, so you can give me your opinion."

You gave him a strained smile, standing there in the middle of the hallway, and when you saw Hyunjin poke his head out the living room door to see what was going on, you indicated to Chris that Felix was in the kitchen by pointing him to the room, and seizing the opportunity when he went to greet his friend to return to Hyunjin, sitting with your back straight against the backrest, pulling your legs up until your knees were pulled up to your chest.

"You guys are a bunch of assholes" you whispered, staring at the TV screen, not really seeing anything.

"You know how Felix is" Hyunjin answered you, resting his head on your shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

"How am I going to...?"

"YN!" exclaimed Felix going to his room, "Take care of putting the brownies in the oven, please!"

"Oh, my God, I'm going to kill him" you muttered, closing your eyes tightly and dropping your head against the couch.

"Fighting" your friend said to you, giving you a sad smile and a small kiss on your cheek.

You let out a long sigh before getting up, and started to look for Felix around the part of the apartment where you thought his voice had come from, to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. You guessed he was in the bathroom, the sound of running water audible from outside, and knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

"Lixie, you know I love you very much" you began, taking a breath to start to tell him off all the decisions he had made so far in his face.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now, Ynnie," you heard him speak, his voice muffled by the water, so you assumed he was taking a shower, "but there was an incident with the chocolate and I stained everything. Chris is trying to fix it, but I needed to take a shower."

"How much time do I have to set the brownies for?" you asked, surrendering, your shoulders tensing at the thought. The sooner you accepted that you weren't going to get out of interacting with your crush and Hyunjin at the same time, the sooner the night would pass and the sooner you could get back to your normal life.

"I've already left the temperature on! It's only twenty minutes!" he exclaimed, "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" you muttered, retracing your path to the kitchen, only to find Chris rummaging through the cupboards. "What... what are you doing?"

The boy startled, jumping a little on the spot, and banging his forehead against the corner of the door, which made you choke back a scream and run to him, your hand pressing down over his in the area of the bump and you reacted with a startled "Are you okay? Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" to his whine.

"It's okay, really" he answered you, fully flushed, suddenly aware of how close you were to him.

"No, no, it's not okay at all" you affirmed, taking a couple of steps backwards looking for the fridge with your eyes, only to bend down to grab some ice cubes from the freezer and wrap them in a clean cloth, approaching him again. You grabbed his wrist gently and removed his hand from his forehead, assessing the damage before resting the wrapped ices carefully over the bump. "You sure have a terrible impression of me."

"That's not true" he whispered, cracking a small smile, avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment.

"I'm terribly sorry, really" you repeated, unable to say anything else.

"It could have happened to anyone, don't worry."

"What were you doing, anyway?" you asked, your hands still busy, one with the ice and the other one with your fingers closed around his wrist. When you noticed, you tried to direct him to take the cloth himself.

"From what Felix explained to me, he was so nervous he must have mixed something wrong, and then I don't know how he did it but he ended up with half the batter all over his shirt and arms," he explained to you, leaning on the counter, "I was trying to find chocolate to make it better. I'm not the best pastry chef, but working in the café has taught me something."

You looked over to where the bowl Felix had used was, and saw next to it the mixer you had bought him for his birthday, a few drops of mixture on the surface and more on the floor.

"It was his first time using that mixer" you assumed, trying to stifle a chuckle, "I'm sure he miscalculated the power and it blew all over."

The laughter Chris let out was music to your ears, and when you turned to look at him you realized how close you were to him. There were barely inches between you, and your legs were practically intertwined. You cleared your throat, parting slightly, and made eye contact with him, letting yourself be absorbed by his tiny brown eyes, which matched his dimples, narrowed into two crescent moons.

"There's no more chocolate, by the way" he told you, remembering why you were in that situation.

"I can go out and buy more" you solved, fully intending to go grab your wallet and leave, realizing how whipped you were for him.

"No way, it's my thing, I should go" he rebutted, massaging his forehead from time to time.

"You're hurt" you pointed out, looking for more reasonings, "you're not going to beat me if you pick a fight with me over this".

"Oh, believe me I am" he replied, leaving the ice cubes on the counter and heading for the hallway, "you do what you want but I'm going to get dessert somewhere."

"Then you're not going alone."

You left him looking for his coat in the closet as you went to tell Hyunjin what you were going to do, your friend still lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, probably on TikTok. His face was the mirror of pure surprise and disbelief, before he grinned mischievously. You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him, leaving him there and grabbing your own phone on the way, meeting Chris in front of the door. He had your coat in his hands, and helped you put it on. You then made sure you had your spare keys in your pocket and walked out of the apartment.

"Not to put you down, but... you are aware that you're in your pajamas, right?" asked Chris, his ears blushing as he realized it, slyly tracing the curves of your hips.

"Yeah, it's okay," you said, oblivious, making a nonchalant gesture, "it's not the first time I've done this."

"Where do you plan to go?" you heard him coming down the stairs behind you.

"There's a bakery a couple of blocks from here that closes pretty late, so we'll get there on time" you explained, leading him out of the building.

"So it really isn't the first time you do this" he confirmed, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

"Yeah, it's pretty fun" you said, remembering all the times you'd done it, more than once with your friends, rain or shine, "it's closer to Hyunjin's house, so we usually go from there, but yeah."

"Oh, you guys seem pretty close" he commented.

You tried not to let your wince show, not understanding why you always ended up mentioning the dancer in your conversations with Chris. The time was approaching when he would start asking you questions about Hyunjin to find out more about him, and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it.

"Yes, we have been together for a long time" you confirmed, trying to reveal as little information as possible, "he is someone very dear to me".

"Whenever I see you you're with him" he continued, his shoulder brushing next to yours, "at the café, I mean".

"He's the one in charge of ordering the chocolate for me" you confessed, changing the subject. "You make great chocolate, by the way. I couldn't tell you today, you dropped it off and left."

"You were so focused I didn't want to disturb you" he acknowledged, letting out a soft laugh.

"I guessed as much" you affirmed, noticing the streets you were passing instead of glancing sideways at him, as you were dying to do, "I also noticed the napkin."

"The nap...? Oh!"

"Yeah, oh," you repeated, your laughter awakening butterflies in his stomach, "people don't usually flirt with me like that."

"Fli- ehem, flirt?" he stammered, his face suddenly red with shyness. He hadn't expected you to be so direct with the subject.

"Well, not flirting," you corrected yourself, realizing your mistake, "but you have a lot of rizz."

"You're not the first one to tell me that" he nodded, clearing his throat, "my sister calls me Chrizztopher to mess with me."

"I like your sister, then" you acknowledged, reordering your thoughts to figure out how to phrase your question, and find out finally if you were going crazy or you were just insecure, "but... well, not that I'm complaining, but you still shouldn't waste it on me."

"Waste it? On you?" the conversation was losing all meaning to him, his brow furrowing more and more in confusion.

"Yeah, you know" you tried to explain, trying not sounding as bad as you felt, "focus it all on the person you like, instead of random girls."

"But... I'm already doing that" he protested, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, halting your walk, "the chocolate...".

"The hot chocolate was nice of you, but I'm talking about Hyunjin."

"What the hell does Hyunjin have to do with you?" he exclaimed, incredulous.

"With me?" you asked, your heart stopping at the possibility his words were offering you. "But... the message in the coffee, wasn't it for Hyunjin?"

"What message?" you were looking into each other's eyes, for the first time without any shyness on either side, both trying to understand each other.

"The message on the coffee cup that said you thought Hyunjin was cute" you replied, shoving your hands in your coat pockets, fiddling with your phone case to calm your nerves. "The one with you phone number".

"Did I write the message on the wrong cup?" he lamented, unable to believe his bad luck.

"The wrong cup?" you repeated, unable to process what was happening.

"I've had a crush on you since you first walked into the café" he stated, deciding to tell his biggest secret just so he could make it clear what was going on.

"What?"

"I... Yeah, there's not much more to say" his nervous laugh snapped you out of your shock, blinking to look at him again, this time with a clearer mind. "There's not a thing about you I don't like."

The silence that settled between you, you running your eyes over his features, your heart pounding, him not knowing if it would be a good idea to approach you, or if you needed space at that moment, waiting with his breath caught in his throat, not knowing if his feelings were reciprocated or not. You raised one of your hands, rubbing your forehead, unsure of how to interact after his confession. You decided to clear your throat and let the words flow, after all, even if you made a fool of yourself, it couldn't get any worse.

"Me too" you paused, still hearing your heart thudding in your chest, and then continued, "I have a crush, I mean. On you, yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" you confirmed, more at ease, moving closer to him.

Chris took the initiative and intertwined one of his hands with one of yours, looking at you softly and warmly, his smile provoking the same reactions from you as before, but now with the reassurance of knowing you weren't the only one who felt this way.

"What do you recommend from the bakery then?" he asked, taking you by the waist to continue walking beside you, both of you embracing each other.

And before you even answered you knew you would buy anything he asked for, even if you didn't like it, even if he didn't verbalize his desire to buy it. Only because you were as head over heels for him, as he was for you.

☆ series masterlist !!

taglist: @sseastar-main · @queen-in-the-shadows · @anaiii27 · @hanstarrs · @starsandrqindrops · @ivaneedssleep · @bbokari711 permanent taglist: @feybin · @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @lixielovesme · @starlostastronaut · @lvlnijiro · @adestayskz · @manuosorioh · @nappynapnaps · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @ylixbok

(if you want to be on the tagist, use the link, send an ask or comment. if you want to change in which taglist to be, send an ask or a comment. if you don't want to be on the taglist, send an ask or a comment ^^)

© stayconnecteed 2023 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

[bumblingbabooshka]

Vulcan teen on Vulcan [tiktok] saying "I have just lost track of my father in the grocery store." The camera turns to show the viewers the grocery store in which almost every single older middle-aged man has a bowlcut and long robes. Camera turns back to show the teen's face which is expressionless and yet communicates all it needs to.

[sleepygaymerdisease]

[12neonlit-stage]

you're allowed to discuss and work together, reblog for a higher sample size or something

You have 1 week, good luck!

[endusviolence]

Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

[stil-lindigo]

Bisan is calling for another global strike!

I saw some posts just outlining Jan 21st, and wanted to clarify that Bisan has called for a full seven days of action.

What a global strike would look like is:

calling in sick to work

purchasing bare essentials ahead of the week so you can observe the general boycott of goods / buying as little as you genuinely can

putting in a concerted effort to elevate Palestinian voices and make it clear that this strike is in support of a permanent ceasefire!

For those who will have to purchase necessary goods during this time, please observe the brands that the BDS movement is asking us to boycott!

♢♢♢

Right now is also a good time to mention some better uses for your money during this week.

Available e-sims in Gaza are running low!!

Mirna El Helbawi and her team are working round the clock to continue to connect Palestinians as Israel does its best to cut them off from the rest of the world.

You can learn how to purchase and send e-sims here, and below you’ll find a list of what is currently needed (the areas in brackets indicate what region you should select to buy e-sims in).

--

CareforGaza is an organisation that does verifiably good work, distributing supplies directly to Palestinian families.

They have a Gofundme set up at the moment, but because of Gofundme’s poor track record regarding refusing to transfer funds to Palestinians, I’d recommend continuing to donate directly to their PayPal here.

Good luck to all of you. Don't turn away from Palestine!

[oars]

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

sometimes katsuki gets really dramatic (but let’s be fr when isn’t he) and acts like you ghosted him when you don’t respond to his texts in thirty minutes. not in a creepy way, just in a dramatic, needy way.

he’s not worried or anything, he checks his phone every few minutes to see if any texts from you have come in. it’s a force of habit, because you usually respond pretty quickly but after a while it gets a little weird. and then he sends you a text and another one and unconsciously he starts spamming you a bit. again, not in a creepy way. just an annoying needy whiny dramatic baby, way.

“what’s up, bakubro ? you keep checking your phone.” katsuki doesn’t look at kirishima, eyes glued to his phone when he just grunts out an “‘m fine.”

and then kaminari just has to open his big mouth. his voice playful as he speaks “uh oh, trouble in paradiseee~?” katsuki scoffs, telling the blonde to fuck off.

and he isn’t worried..not at all. until he thinks about it and maybe there was trouble in paradise ?? were you maybe ignoring him ? what’d he do ?

you look up from your notebook at the sound of your phone vibrating. oh, it’s katsuki ! you smile just seeing his contact pop up.

“hi, katsu !”

silence, no response. you try again.

“…hello ?”

you hear a scoff from the other end, and some shuffling before your boyfriend graces you with an answer. “look at your phone, you idiot.”

“hello, katsu.” you snort. “yeah, yeah. hi.” you can practically hear the roll of his eyes through the phone, you giggle and your boyfriend huffs through the speaker.

it’s then that you see the wall of texts from him “oh, did you text me ? my bad i was studying.”

there’s a faint sigh of relief “‘s fine.”

“were you worried ?” you tease.

“fuck no. just—“ a sudden pause then katsuki grumbles “answer my texts next time, moron. bye. don’t overdo it while studying or i’ll kill you.”

“meanie !” you giggle, and when he hangs up you send him a text.

we can study together next time, just so you don’t flip out again 💗😚

katsuki scoffs a mean laugh, then sends you a middle finger.

[tossawary]

I just know in my heart of hearts that in "Star Trek" at one point, there was some moral panic somewhere on Vulcan (among the uppity sorts) because Human culture was "infecting" the local youth with their overly emotional, destructive, unproductive, frivolous, and uneducational ways.

And what was actually happening was that a bunch of Vulcan kids got really into 23rd-century "Minecraft" or something.

Small Vulcan child @ another Vulcan child: (in a tone that sounds flat to Humans but angry as hell to Vulcans) "You have compromised the optimization of my fortress. I am having an emotional urge to blow up your house... in Minecraft."

[chalkrub]

reminiscing about childhood books after that ask - all due respect to cool sleek movie toothless....but to me, he will always be a mean little gremlin

[soldrawss]

Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐. cappuccino⠀𓏔⠀lee know⠀❫

☆ customer!lee know x afab!reader ( i wanna be yours oneshots )⠀★⠀8.1k words

( i am extremely sorry for the delay of this one shot ♡ )

synopsys: after a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you. warnings: in this one she's the barista, guys. a part from that, we have mentions of reader not having enough money, lee know with his misterious aura but being a literal sunshine, also he's insecure :(( unusual hopeless romantic minho too, he's a softie (and whipped) reader's insecure too 😔 mentions of overworking and skipping meals. minho saves the day!! let me know if i missed something.

If life as a college student was hard, life as a broke college student in a country completely different from your own was pure hell. You had never let it get to you when you said your dream was to make it as a choreographer in Seoul and everyone laughed in your face, so you certainly weren't going to let anything stand in your way now that you had gotten a chance at Seoul's famous arts university, JYPU. The plane ride had been a challenge, because you kept wondering if you were really doing the right thing, but when you landed and saw you had messages of encouragement from your sister and the few friends you had left in your hometown, their words had filled you with determination.

A couple of years had passed since that moment, and perhaps the circumstances were still not the best, but you were still determined to achieve everything you set your mind to. The language barrier had not been a big problem, because you had learned some Korean while you were in high school, but it had only helped you to find that tiny room you were living in and get hired at the dance studio a couple of blocks away from the faculty. You were earning enough to pay for food, rent, and the materials you needed for class. But when understanding your classmates became a little more complicated, when the language used in the lectures became more technical, you had to pay a personal teacher to help you improve your Korean. And since you didn't have enough money, you were forced to fit a second job into your busy schedule, getting a little bit of extra money to live slightly more comfortably.

A friend of a friend from the Music Production department had recommended you to the owner of the most famous café on campus, and after hearing your story, he had hired you right away. This Chris guy had been very nice, and had taken an interest in your schedule to find the shifts that suited you best, even waiting for you after one of your classes to have lunch with you and talk about everything in peace and quiet. You had never met a boss so concerned about his employees, and he made it much easier to have to get up before dawn to be the one to open the café, because he always left you some candy hidden in your apron pockets or a note encouraging you to start the day with a smile.

However, the first time you had covered the morning shift, the 5.30 am shift, there was a guy waiting at the door. You had arrived, exhausted as you were every day, the laptop and your college books weighing like heavy bricks in the backpack on your shoulders, along with the sports clothes you wore for the afternoon classes. Chris had told you to be there at the normal time and he would show up to explain some of the details and give you the keys. After all, it was your first day. But instead there was a tall, slim guy leaning against the metal grille, his slightly long bangs covering his eyes, though that didn't stop him from scrolling lazily on his phone, headphones hanging around his neck, and looking flawlessly put together. Certainly not how someone should look on any given day at 5:30 in the morning.

You flashed a shy smile as you reached his level and he lifted his head to find out who you were, his sharp cat-like eyes sparkling from the reflection of the light on his phone screen, and you grabbed your own in a hurry to send a message to the cafe owner.

You 5.32am Hi, Chris I already arrived, where are you?

Chris 5.32am Hi, sorry Still in the subway Like... 2 minutes away

You 5.33am Yeah, no worries It's just There's this guy...

Chris 5.34am OMG wait Dark aura, looks like a cat and gave you a dirty look when you showed up?

You 5.35am Yeah, quite accurate

Chris 5.35am Oh, that's Minho Don't mind him, he's inoffensive Most of the time He's there for his morning coffee

You 5.36am Okay, then See you!!

Chris 5.36am 👍🏼

And then he showed up, out of breath, in a hurry, around the street corner, phone still in his hand, unblocked. You smiled unconsciously, trying to ignore Minho's gaze weighing on you while Chris approached, flashing his dimples as he stopped in front of you to catch his breath, breathing some kind of greeting that you responded to with a nod. He pulled out a dinosaur-shaped keychain, a very adorable doodle version, and bent down to unlock the metal grille, pull it up ーgiving a little jump to get it all the way upー and unlatch the lock on the door. Minho hadn't bothered to greet him, you guessed it was a common thing between them, and he didn't look up from his phone screen either, a bored gesture plastered on his face. You followed Chris as he entered the café, leaving your backpack on the counter, and standing awkardly in the middle as he went to switch on the electrical panel.

"Get his coffee ready while I finish up in here," he instructed you, stepping into what you thought was the kitchen, "I'll be right out to help you."

You nodded, grabbing the apron from the rack that already had your name on it, and stood behind the counter, Minho having rested his forearms on the surface, again with the phone in his hands. If he was reading some article or playing some online game it must have been interesting, because except for the few furtive glances he had given you, his eyes had been glued to the screen the whole time. Clearing your throat, making just enough noise to get his attention, you flashed your best customer service smile, "What'll you have?"

"Cappuccino" he mumbled, sitting up and stretching absently, "grande, to go".

You made a small affirmative noise, turning on the coffee machine, and picked up the cup in the size he had asked for, with its respective lid.

"Chris, where's the milk?" you asked, walking into the kitchen, stifling a laugh when you caught him wrestling with the flour, staining his dark blue t-shirt white.

"'Storage room'" he muttered, his ears taking on a reddish hue, "If there isn't any under the counter, Jisung must have forgotten to restock it last night."

You hurried into the kitchen supply room, after grabbing a scoop of coffee powder and put it in the machine to make some espresso, and came out with two packs of milk, setting them down on the floor to place them as soon as Minho left, but grabbing one of the bottles to make the steamed milk and creamer.

It wasn't your first time working as a barista, and not in the hostelry industry either, so really the only thing you had to get used to was the café distribution. Luckily, Chris seemed like a pretty neat guy, so you didn't think it was going to be much of a problem. You set about pouring the milk into the necessary containers to heat it to your liking and get the effect you were looking for, as the coffee dripped into the cup you were using to measure the amount, the chestnut-colored liquid falling, first in drops and then in a small stream of caffeine, flooding the white porcelain.

You mixed it on the counter, in front of Minho, so he could see how you did it, although you hadn't seen him look up from his phone at any moment. Actually, he had been watching you. He always did 一observing his surroundings, that is一, but with you his eyes flashed with curiosity. Chris was known for rescuing stray souls in need of a job, a quality through which he had met most of his friends, and he wanted to find out why a girl like you would have caught his eye, or would need extra money. Usually JYP University students had wealthy parents, and if that wasn't the case, they had at least gotten a temporary job that allowed them to live comfortably. But you had arrived, with your worn converse and patched hoodie, your backpack full of safety pins and big dark shadows under your eyes, screaming to anyone who could see that you didn't quite belong there.

He had wanted to take care of you. It had crossed his mind for an instant to give you a friendly smile, to introduce himself, to ask you about you; he had felt the need to approach you and engage you in a conversation that would allow him to get to know you better. Because as soon as he laid his eyes on you, he knew that despite being two strangers, you were going to be the one who, only with the sweetness of your voice and the kindness of your gaze, would break through all that was and what was remaining of him once you left him, would turn his unleashed fire into a warm hearth. But he wasn't good with words, and you had rushed to grab your phone to busy yourself, watching his chance fade before he could even realize it. It had bothered him how comfortable you seemed to feel with Chris, even though he knew his friend had that effect on people, and how you'd smiled when you'd seen him show up, like he was saving you from someone 一from him.

But at the same time, he had struggled not to curl his lips as he realized how strange you felt in the situation you were in, standing at the entrance of the café, as if waiting for instructions. It wasn't that you were a contradiction, but that you caused him too many dilemmas. Like having to repress that electricity that ran through him the only time you looked into his eyes, when you looked up to check how much his coffee cost and he already had the money in his hand. He had tried not to brush his hand against yours, dropping the coins onto your palm at full speed and picking up his cup, leaving the place, with you still on his mind. He couldn't concentrate in class that day.

Unfortunately, you had no other choice but to focus. The scholarship you had been given depended on your grades, thanks to which you had obtained a place at the university. If you dropped below your grade point average, they would take it away from you, and that was something you couldn't allow. But some thoughts had slipped in your mind about the boy you had met that morning, remembering the shape of his eyes, sharp and rounded at the same time, and his slender figure. You had allowed yourself to smile at the memory of him, even as you hurried to stuff your backpack and boots into the locker at the academy where you worked, your jeans exchanged for a leotard and the most comfortable sweats you had, always arriving a couple of minutes earlier than required so you could get ready.

But even if you wanted to stop thinking about him you couldn't, because soon what you had considered an isolated event became a habit that every day was harder to break. The next morning, after barely five hours of sleep, you got up again, crawling as best you could to the outside of your cramped room, your body trying to feed on the freshness that the shower had left on your skin, your heavy backpack digging into your shoulders. And when you managed to reach the café, the keys tightly clutched in your fist, he was there, again, his long figure leaning against the grille, again, and his gaze fixed on his phone, again.

When he heard you, your stifled pants revealing your presence, he sought your eyes, separating himself from the wall so that you could open. You bent down, sitting back on your heels, to undo the lock on the grille, and accompanied it with your hand as you stood up again, mimicking the hop you'd seen Chris take the day before to get it all the way up. Unfortunately, it only got halfway up, and you felt your cheeks redden with embarrassment, fearing that Minho had seen it. Still you pretended nothing had happened, trying to straighten your shoulders under the weight of the backpack, unlocked the door, leaving it open behind you, and stepped inside.

You repeated the steps that Chris had indicated to you the previous morning, going directly to the electric panel to turn on the power, and then you entered the kitchen, crossing it until you reached the room reserved for the staff, leaving your backpack on one of the chairs, and taking the apron that had your name on it before leaving. You hung it around your neck as you undid your steps, and by the time you got behind the counter Minho was already pinning his catlike gaze on you.

"Grande cappuccino to go?" you asked, your fingers tapping on the surface like a piano in a nervous gesture that Minho found adorable.

He merely nodded, averting his gaze to his phone screen, as if he had somewhere more important or urgent to be and was checking the time to make sure he had enough minutes left to get there. It was a somewhat pretentious gesture on his part, without stopping to think whether it would make you feel better or worse, but he couldn't help it. He was torn between absorbing every detail you could offer him, and trying to delay the moment when you would reject him, when his feelings would be too obvious to be denied. And even if he had mentally chosen the second option, he let his gaze follow you as he performed a graceful dance with the sole purpose of making his coffee.

He had noticed a difference from when Chris made it to when you had made it. Minho didn't know if it was your expert hand or some ingredient you had used to make it, but it tasted slightly sweeter. And since he had tasted it he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what your lips would taste like, if he got to kiss them someday. Minho kept telling himself that it was a silly crush, that the butterflies he felt in his stomach when you handed him his glass were the effect of hunger, of thirst, of any excuse he could think of but the ghost of the feel of your skin on his. Or maybe you were a witch, and had used his cappuccino as a love potion.

However, it didn't matter anymore. If you had wanted to have him trapped in your web, he wasn't going to be the one crying out for help to be rescued. Not when he felt his heart falling off a cliff every time you looked at him, adrenaline racing his pulse, not knowing for sure when it would stop. At least until he handed you the money, turned around and walked out of the café, the bite of the cold winter air bringing him back to reality, leaving behind the pleasant warmth of the place, and also of your smile, which he could still feel in the palm of his hand thanks to the coffee you had made for him.

And meanwhile you watched him walk away, the coins still in your hand, until there was no trace of him left. Then you sighed, coming out of that strange daydream in which you were interacting ーif you could call what you were doing thatー and put the money away, leaving the apron on the counter and taking a chair. Your problem wasn't being short, it was not knowing how to jump high, you decided, as you leaned the chair against the street and looked up, more than willing to climb the grille to the same height Chris had left it the day before.

To your surprise, it was in place, even though you knew perfectly well that you had left it halfway up only five minutes earlier. You shrugged your shoulders and went back inside, leaving your chair in place and hurriedly putting on a black shirt before tying on your apron and starting your day.

The next morning, you went to work with your heart in a fist, expecting to see him leaning against the grille, letting out a small sigh of relief when you saw that he was. You hid the smile that struggled to appear on your lips, and frowned as you looked at him, refusing to let the mere presence of a stranger affect your mood that way.

This time, Minho greeted you with a quick glance and a small nod, a display that made you blush, hiding your reddish cheeks from him as you bent down to lift the grille. You figured that this routine between the two of you would be repeated quite often, since you weren't planning to quit your job and he was going to need his coffee every morning, so you decided to put all your effort into maintaining a cordial relationship with him.

You soon realized that he was the type of person who also got up early on weekends, since you still had to cover your shift and he was still at his usual 5:30 am spot. You had no idea what he was studying ーor even if his major that was the reason he was getting up so early. And it wasn't like you were going to ask Chris either, you didn't know him well enough to figure out if he would tell Minho or not.

In fact, he kept making stupid excuses for why he had to go to your unofficial morning appointments. He told himself you wouldn't have anyone to climb the grille for you. What if the lock on the door got stuck and you couldn't get in? His coffee addiction had nothing to do with it, although he would probably develop one just from drinking so much cappuccino, and if he didn't feel like getting up one day, just the thought of knowing that he would be able to see you before going to class made him wake up instantly.

And somehow he ended up going on the weekends as well. The first Saturday just to see if you were also working those mornings, stuttering his order when he saw that you had already opened and he hadn't been there, but after taking the first sip from his cup he had to sit for a long time on one of the benches in the nearest park, feeling sick at the fixation he had developed with you.

Could he consider it a crush when he tried to look for you with his eyes every time he leaned to wait for you, pretending to use his phone? When he walked through the corridors of his college and thought he recognized your beautiful hair in the crowd, only to end up being a random girl? When his heart stopped for a few moments as soon as he entered the café that morning just because he heard you laugh? 

That Sunday he was on the verge of not going. But every minute that passed and it got closer to the time to open the café, his anxiety increased, so he dressed in the first shorts he could find and a shirt he had lying on his bed and decided to go for a run. He wasn't a big fan of doing sports, but he liked the feeling that flooded his body once he finished, exhausted, knowing that it had been worth it. He had jogged towards 5STAR, towards you, ready to drink his morning coffee.

Until that moment the only thing that kept him from murdering anyone who bothered him as soon as he woke up had been the caffeine shot, but he had lately been smiling only thanks to you for a week, and it was much healthier that caffeine. That Sunday you had looked at him, surprise on your face, probably because he had changed his normal outfit for a slightly more revealing one, and you had had to clear your throat before asking if he would have a cappuccino. He had smiled shyly and asked for a pastry to go with his coffee, since he wasn't willing to go running on an empty stomach, and had waited as long as it took while you put the first batch of croissants in the oven.

He had pretended not to notice, too, when you stole glances at him from the kitchen, blushing when he couldn't help himself anymore and made eye contact with you. After all those days he still wondered why you kept asking him if his order was still a cappuccino, when his answer had always been yes, but he would never dare to find out, because hearing your sweet voice was a hell of a lot better than all the alarms on his phone. What he didn't know was that you adored the look on his face, his lips curving slightly and nodding adorably, and that you weren't willing to give that up either.

The mornings went on, each and every one of them with the same repressed interaction, and the same warm feeling in your chest as you said goodbye to each other until the next day, neither of you making the first move. You had grown accustomed to his presence, almost inherent in your morning routine, and he had learned to soften his attitude in front of you, but never without exchanging more than three words in a row.

The first time you said something different, a few weeks later, was when you mustered the courage you needed to thank him for raising the grille for you every morning. At first he had done it slyly, taking advantage of you coming into the kitchen to make a little jump and push it up. Then he hadn't cared if you saw it or not, realizing that if he wanted you to notice him he would have to be a little more obvious. And now he was doing it without any kind of embarrassment, waiting for you to pull it up more or less to your height to take the leap, in front of you.

"Thanks for helping me with the grille" you had whispered, pouring the milk into the glass, while the coffee was being made behind your back.

He had made a nonchalant gesture, as if it wasn't that important, or if he had done it for anyone, and he had seen you smile, embarrassed, but his ears had turned red.

That same day, taking advantage of meeting up at Han's apartment with the group of friends, he followed Chris into the kitchen when he offered to go get more beers and tried to ask some sly question about you. Chris was no fool, evidently, but he let Minho get the information he wanted. It was most adorable to see his gaze light up at the mere mention of your name, or how he drank in the words Chris whispered hurriedly about you, fearful that any of the others would walk unannounced into the kitchen and interrupt them.

You, on the other hand, had begun one of the most difficult periods of the term: when your exams were combined with the recitals of the girls you were teaching, limiting your time even more and drowning you in due dates, subjects to study and two jobs you couldn't afford to loose. You couldn't complain about how lucky you had been to find jobs that matched your preferences, but you did say, without hesitation, that the one at the café was much better than the one at the dance academy. Not only in something as obvious as the salary, but the conditions were nicer with Chris as the boss than with that man who had assumed that because you were a woman and beautiful you would surely be better at teaching ballet and dealing with the little girls.

That was what you had confessed to Han, since his shift was the one after yours, while you took advantage of the brief ten minutes he managed to save for you, arriving earlier than he should have, and you spent by having a coffee. He had nodded, giving you to understand that he was listening to you, while he stored all that information to be able to communicate it later to Minho. All the co-workers you had dealt with had been very nice to you, but Han was your favorite. He compensated for your introversion with witty and funny comments on his part, which made you burst out laughing and the mood relaxed. He always paid attention to everything you said - even if he had hidden intentions to do so - and you had several hobbies in common.

Besides, he was the only one who would talk to you about Minho without having to ask, and even if you pretended to be disinterested, he could see the way you nodded at his words, and your lips tried to avoid curling up at the silly anecdotes in which you were utterly oblivious to this different version of the gentle Minho who said good morning to you. He would brighten up your breakfasts, at least until you realized what time it was and rushed off to avoid missing your morning classes.

Because the classes were also demanding enough. It may not have been as difficult as a science degree, but the exams on music history and dance, along with all the physical sessions and dances you had to prepare for the end of the semester not only tired you mentally, but you would arrive home at night totally exhausted, with just enough energy to take a shower and go to bed. You would also skip a meal or two due to lack of time, resulting in quick snacking whenever you had a second. More than once your belly had growled in the morning, in front of Minho, and you had formulated a quick apology, without even turning around, too embarrassed.

They weren't the best conditions for a healthy life, even less if you were a teenager trying to survive, but it was the only - and best - thing you had. At least you had your mornings at 5STAR, with the opportunity to see Minho every day without fail, and the hours at the academy with your girls, who were immensely fond of you. Seeing their excited faces when you proposed to change the typical play based on the Nutcracker or Swan Lake for an invented version with all the Disney princesses made the two nights you had spent almost without sleep planning the story and the choreography worthwhile. That way everyone would have a starring role, and not just the one who got the main role, which was something you had missed in your childhood, so you were happy too.

One morning, however, when Minho came to your not-date, the café was already open. It wasn't that the fact itself was strange ーyou had sometimes arrived early because you hadn't been able to sleepー but that the grille was all the way up, and you always left it halfway up no matter what time you arrived. When he entered, the door bell ringing behind him, the one who came out to greet him was Changbin, another of his friends, who flashed a mischievous grin at his confused face.

"Looking for your girl?"

"YN is not my girl" he protested, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"Ah, but you took it for granted I was talking about her" the boy replied, winking at him, starting to make his coffee.

Minho missed your sleepy voice as you murmured good morning to him, and the graceful way you moved behind the counter, in and out of the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients and utensils you needed to prepare his breakfast, which although varied in pastries, always consisted of a cappuccino. He pulled out his wallet, preparing the coins he always counted out before handing you over, and the movement caught Changbin's attention.

"So you're not going to ask?" he said, rephrasing, still with his back turned.

"You seem to be eager to tell me," he replied, rolling his eyes, "so go ahead."

"Oh, you're no fun" Changbin complained, his face contracting into an adorable pout.

"I didn't mean to be" Minho said, cracking a sarcastic smile.

"You know what, I'm sure you wouldn't have responded to her like that" he muttered, pouring the milk into the cup. "Anyways, I'm sure Han will text you as soon as he finds out, but Chan hyung convinced her to ask for a couple of days off."

"Chan hyung?" Minho couldn't help but frown, not understanding.

"Apparently, YN has been pushing herself more all month" Changbin explained, picking up a cup-sized cap, finishing his friend's order, "and you know how Chan hyung is when he sees someone overworking."

"He gets all protective" summed up the dancer, paying for the drink.

"Exactly" he stated, crossing his arms once Minho had his coffee in his hand, "and she must have been having a really hard time. I guess Chan hyung asked her about her schedule to find out which days would be better for her to rest, and yesterday he asked me if I could cover her shift."

And it had been that way. Just the day Chan had decided to stop by to see how you were doing, he had found you passed out on the kitchen floor. You had made him promise not to tell anyone, and he had sworn to keep his lips sealed, only if you let him make sure you were okay. He had woken up one of the other employees, and then had taken you to his house. You had been somewhat shocked by the seriousness with which he had taken it all, but you had let him do it, rambling about everything you had to do and how little time you had, while he prepared a very nutritious breakfast for you.

"You should quit that job at the academy" he had advised you, his gaze fixed on the chicken frying in the pan.

"I can't" you had protested, whining, "there's less than a week until the Christmas performance. I couldn't let the girls down like that."

"Are you willing to quit after that, though?"

"If I find a better job," you had supposed, shrugging, trying to avoid yawning.

"What if I offer you a double shift at a higher salary?" he had proposed, filling the plates with food and setting them in front of you, reaching for a clean set of chopsticks, "I can even switch you to the afternoon, so you'll get more sleep."

"That's very kind of you, Chris," you had murmured, "but I don't know if it would be a good idea. Or legal, at this rate. You're already paying me more than my fair share."

"You could find a roommate, then" he had continued, not giving up, "I know a guy who..."

"Thank you, really," you had tried again, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at his effusiveness, "but I'd rather sort it out myself."

Chan had looked down, blushing as he realized he had gone too far anyway, and had apologized, leaving you to eat in peace. You couldn't thank him enough for how much it had meant to you that he had accepted you into his house and fed you, but he had more surprises up his sleeve. He had told you that he was going to give you two days off, and also that he knew someone in your class who could get you the notes of what you would be taking that week in the main subjects, so that you could spend the next few days resting. Before saying goodbye, you had given him a big hug, almost crying, and you had returned to your little room, more than ready to faint from exhaustion.

But Minho didn't know that. For him it was the first time you had been absent, and the first notice that you were really that unwell. Not that he hadn't noticed the dark circles under your eyes, but you had always looked so cheerful in front of him in the mornings, with that bright smile that lit up the café when you saw him, that he hadn't realized the real gravity of the situation. And he blamed himself for it, for his lack of attention to detail, for having been so absorbed in his feelings that he hadn't realized your own reality.

That's why the next day he didn't go: it didn't make sense, since he knew you weren't going to be there. And in any case, he wasn't in the mood to get up so early. He didn't go to class either, his mind too absent-minded to attend to three straight hours of long, monotonous explanations. But he didn't miss his daily appointment at the dance academy, one of the few places where he could let himself go, it's physical exertion and music taking him away from all the buzz he had in his head. He would go to practice the dances he had to present in his subjects, but also to memorize choreographies he found on the internet or create his own from scratch.

The mere fact of putting the bottle of water and the change of clothes in his sports bag for later made a slight curve form on his lips, wishing that the subway would move at the speed of light so he could arrive as soon as possible, and nodding as a greeting to one of the owners of the place, who was always sitting at the reception desk, heading straight to the studio he had booked.

That evening Yewon was not in her usual place, but running back and forth, somewhat stressed, having exchanged her usual low heels for ballet slippers.

"Hello, Minho!" she greeted him, waving some papers with a hurried gesture. "You have studio C10, as usual, but I will have to change it tomorrow!"

"What's all the fuss about?" he asked, securing the strap of his bag over his shoulder in a nervous gesture.

"Two of our teachers couldn't make it today, and it was unexpected," she explained, not bothering to use the comfortable office chair to type something quick on the computer. "Jisoo took maternity leave after a little scare with the baby, to be at home and rest. But Jinyoung has finally quit."

"The one who wanted to set up his own academy?"

"That same one," she replied, trying to stifle a complicit laugh. "I'm covering his ballet classes, but I'm short of someone to take over Jisoo's hip hop classes. You wouldn't be willing to volunteer, would you?"

"With kids?" Minho tried not to let his panicked face show too much.

"Yes, but only today," she replied, letting out a melodic laugh. "You can wipe off that scary face, don't worry. My sister is in Jeju, sorting out some family issues, and she'll be back tomorrow. She'll take care of it until Jisoo and her baby are healthy and the happy mom can continue working."

"Huh" he knew he couldn't refuse, not when Yewon had always been so nice to him, even if he was late on one of the months' payments, always greeting him with a smile. But children made him panic. Those little humans who judged you without a filter, always bursting his eardrums with the screams they made, and so wild that they deliberately ignored any orders they received. He realized it sounded like he was describing real demons, but in his experience, it was totally justified. "Right."

Yewon clapped her hands in excitement and led him to one of the studios reserved for afternoon classes. They always put the children in the larger rooms, so they could run around freely. And if you were able to teach ballet for whole afternoons to children, surely it couldn't be too bad for him. After all, he was pretty good at hip hop, and he had a couple of easy choreographies he could teach.

Luckily, the group was small ーfour boys and three girlsー more than willing to learn, half of them with dreams of becoming idols, and all of them with wide eyes watching him dance for the first time. It wasn't the first time people had complimented him, but the fact that eight-year-olds were looking at him with such admiration made him die of embarrassment, and also made it seem much more real than any empty words they could ever give him.

When the time came to an end, he had gotten as much exercise as any other day, had laughed a lot more, and had not been alone, like the vast majority of his afternoons, though unfortunately he had not found a solution to your problem. Yewon left the ballet studio, sweating but smiling, waving goodbye to his students, thanking him again and again after Minho high-fived all his children. It was only after a quick shower that he knew what he should do.

The break had been wonderful for you. You had dedicated yourself to sleeping and eating, without worrying about anything but going to your ballet classes on time, and you were afraid that getting used to it would be easier than breathing. You kept telling yourself that what you were experiencing was a temporary hiatus for a couple of days, something Chris had managed to do but it wouldn't last forever, and that you should be grateful. Although you should also try to figure out what was going to be your life after that, because going on as you were was not an option.

But you were tired of looking for a job and the options getting worse. If the pay was perfect, the schedule was bad for you. If it fit with your classes, it wasn't worth it because it was too far away or the salary wasn't enough. You were definitely going to keep the job at the café, but you also wanted to keep the job at the academy. You were totally lost. Maybe you could stay the same for a couple of months, asking for fewer hours and saving a little more at home. Cut back on showers to the academy bathroom, and try to ration your meals. It could work.

After the established time had passed, you came back. And you were looking forward to it. You got up energized, grabbing a couple of pieces of fruit while you packed your stuff in your backpack, and even noticed it less heavy on the way to the café. When you arrived, you didn't see Minho in his usual place, but since it wasn't the first time either you shrugged your shoulders and opened the grille, leaving it halfway and going in, following the routine that by now, you knew by heart. You busied yourself with the trays of croissants and brownies that some co-worker called Felix was leaving ready on his shift for the next day, waiting for Minho to arrive. You had the milk ready, the coffee powder already in the machine. All you needed was for him to show up to press the button and serve it to him.

Only he didn't show up.

It was the sound of the grille going up that made your heart race, and you left the staff room totally hopeful. But although you expected to see the young man with the mischievous smile and gentle gaze, you found a guy you didn't know at all, looking lost, and a little nervous tic in his hand. You took a big breath of air, forcing a smile, and stood behind the counter.

"Good morning," you murmured. "What will you have?"

"Oh, hi" he said to you, trying to avoid your glance. "I didn't know if it was open yet...".

"Yeah, yeah" you affirmed, the shy curve of your lips reassuring the boy, "don't worry. I usually have a friend of mine come over to help me with the grille, but he's not here yet."

"Then I was right to put it up, wasn't I?" he asked, his fingers still drumming on the surface of the counter.

"Yes, of course," you confirmed, your hands fiddling with the edge of the apron, trying not to let your disappointment at the boy's presence show too much, "thank you. What will you have?"

"A macchiato, please."

Similar to a cappuccino, you thought, unable to get Minho out of your mind. You didn't know why his absence was affecting you so much. You didn't even have that much of a relationship. Outside of your greetings, and small conversations here and there, you didn't interact much else. Even if after all this time you felt you had known him all your life, even if seeing him in the mornings made your day, even if you wished you could spend your whole life mixing espresso with milk if it meant Minho smiled the way he did.

Your shift took forever, each coffee making lasting longer than necessary, and perhaps too short, customers coming and going and none of them being who you expected. You understood that the shock must have been the same for him ーin case his feelings for you were remotely similarー on the days you had been absent, and you feared that he had grown tired. That so many shared mornings would have been for nothing, and yours would have been a relationship by proximity. It wasn't the first time you had maintained such a friendship with people, because you were forced to go to the same place together every day, and not because there was actually any bond.

Maybe he thought you were not coming back, and had decided to look for coffee somewhere else. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything you had experienced, and had taken cordiality for friendship. Maybe nothing of what you felt was reciprocated, and again you had been daydreaming.

Despite all your efforts, you couldn't concentrate on your classes that day. You took the lunch break you had promised Chris, pulling out of your backpack a container of a small salad you had made yourself in the morning and a piece of brownie Han had slipped in when he thought you weren't looking. After retiring to the library for a couple of hours to study you went to the academy, ready to go over the dance with your girls.

You wore your leotard under your jeans, so, as usual, you only had to put on your sweatpants and ballet slippers, locking yourself in the studio half an hour early to dance by yourself for a while, and at five o'clock, letting it fill up with energetic and joyful girls, ready to become their favorite Disney princess for a few hours. You always had a great time, and in your heart it made up for everything it meant in your private life.

After the shower, as you were coming out of the changing room with your hair still slightly damp but back in your normal clothes, your backpack slung over your shoulder, walking down the hallway towards the lobby, you stopped when you heard Minho's voice. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but you could hear the angry voice of your boss, and you peeked your head around the corner, trying to see without being seen, in time to see your boss hit the table lightly and Minho frown in an annoyed gesture, turning around.

You hurried out, ignoring the exclamations of your boss calling you, and followed Minho. He was carrying a cup of coffee that wasn't from 5STAR, and for a moment you feared it was over altogether. That he had found somewhere else to buy his cappuccino. That maybe your friendship had broken down without you realizing it. That it didn't mattered if you thought you didn't care if it never evolved into something more ーsomething you longed forー, you were content with whatever it was that you had. You noticed also the jacket he was wearing, the logo of a dance academy that wasn't yours drawn on his back, and tried to match his long steps to reach his pace.

He was heading in the direction of the bus stop where you usually caught the one that dropped you off near where you lived, and you got on after him, sitting down next to him, still frowning.

"YN?" he mumbled, taking off one of his earbuds so he could talk to you, turning his body slightly to try to face you.

"What were you doing talking to Mr. Kang?"

"Huh?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood anything you had said.

"I've never seen you outside the café before," you told him, propping your backpack between your feet, "and just the day you don't come in the morning I see you in the afternoon at my academy, when you don't even come here."

"Well... It has an explanation" he tried to defend himself, his ears turning red. "Han had said... Ehem, since you didn't come to work these days... I..."

"I was resting" you told him, leaning your back against the backrest, "I had been having some complicated days, and Chris has recommended me to change jobs, but I don't know..."

"I know" he interrupted you, "I know. That's why I was talking to your boss."

"What?"

"He told me that next week is the performance you've been working on for the past few months" he summarized, avoiding looking at you, not feeling ready to find out if he had taken too much of a risk or not. "I wanted him to make your work conditions better, and maybe I told him that the academy I go to they have an opening for a ballet teacher so he should watch out how he treats you. They pay like a normal job, not a part-time one, and the schedule is the same."

"Really?" you stifled a cry of excitement, covering your mouth with your hand, "Oh my God it's perfect! It's literally the miracle I was waiting for! I'm so happy I could..."

"You could...?" he repeated, urging you to finish the sentence.

But you couldn't finish it. You didn't know if you should. It would be crazy, in fact.

"Whatever," you solved, seeking to change the subject, "it doesn't even have to do with dancing."

"And what does it have to do with?"

You cleared your throat, mumbling an answer you knew he couldn't hear, too embarrassed to let it sink in, hoping he had heard it, and also hoping the opposite at the same time.

"With you" you repeated, this time louder, looking into his eyes when he asked you to say it again.

"With me?" he breathed, his heartbeat increasing its speed, roaming his gaze all over your features.

"Yeah" the worst thing it could happen was that he rejected you, and he never came againg to the café. And you already thought that was what had happened, so there was no point in not trying it. "I was going to say that I'm so happy I could kiss you right now".

"Kiss me?" unable to think straight, he was only repeating what you voiced, watching your lips moving and your cheeks slightly blushed.

You flashed a bright smile and caressed his cheekbone, the pad of your finger gentle and soft against his skin, and his breath got caught in his throat, swallowing hard, and confirming your crazy theory of him liking you back. He tried to touch you the same way, his hand twitching with anticipation, but it fell to his lap when you kissed him, his eyes closing down immediately to focus on the way your lips moved over his, lazy, slowly, enjoying every single second.

Minho knew that he had fell first, and harder, and then he had waited patiently for you to reciprocate his feelings. And when you did, you understood that his heart was so full of love and adoration you couldn’t stop yourself to love him in the same deep, absolute and fathomless intensity.

☆ series masterlist !!

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[ryssbelle]

Drew a bunch of Marinettes in a bunch of different artists styles it was a lot of fun!!

Artists who's styles I mimicked: @buggachat @hamsternamedmarinette @ladybeug @sabertoothwalrus and @anna-scribbles all epic artists 🤟😎

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[peachyykira]

Hey, that’s my mutual I wanna fuck. Go get your own. 😤😤😤😤

[ferrettooth]

"You make my fucking blood run cold" how the fuckk do you hear this and not succumb to the best hate fuck of ur life bro???