#cafe crema ask

[justiceiswater]

im crying!!! 😭😭😭

im blissed out!

cafe crema headcanon: describe their favorite mugs that they use at home! colors? was it a gift or a spontaneous buy for themselves? a silly seasonal one but they use it all year anyways? do either or both have one that says something ridiculous?

Café Crema

I’m finally answering this! And I love it!

Describe their favorite mugs that they use at home! colors? was it a gift or a spontaneous buy for themselves?

- Y/N has two favorite mugs she uses at home. 

-If one is dirty she’ll use the other.

-One time, she was out of coffee ( too busy at work to remember to pick up some more) and she was desperate; Bucky caught her dumping leftover coffee from one mug into the other to make one full cup, to which he scolded her in playful disgust, before he held up a bag full of her favorite types of coffee he just bought

-The first mug is one that Collin made her; it was arts and crafts day with the parents at Loving Arms. It’s a white mug splattered with all different colors of greens and purples and oranges. He gifted it to her that very same day with a bright smile on his little face.

-The other is big mug, 

-or “its a soup bowl” Bucky deadpanned when he first saw it. 

-But it’s her favorite because it’s marbled with different shades of blue and every time she uses it, she tells Bucky that it matches his eyes. She picked it out just for that reason in the last minute purchase line at the store.

-Bucky wasn’t one to start collecting mugs. He just used the same plain white one at the compound.

-That is, until he met Y/N, and it was only one month into dating when she had excitedly surprised him with a spill proof mug, with a rotating bottom. He couldn’t keep his glare at her for more than five seconds because she was laughing too hard, and it ended up with him tackling her and kissing on her couch.

-He uses it every time he spends the night at her place (which is almost every night). It’s pink. He loves it.

A silly seasonal one but they use it all year anyways?

- Y/N has a temperature changing Halloween mug, and Bucky can’t get over the fact that the image changes when hot liquid is poured inside. It’s a white mug, but little orange jack-o-lanterns appears when in use.

-Y/N got Bucky a Grinch mug. You know the ones that are the actual faces of characters. But the handle is a heart shape. 

-They watched the movie and Bucky secretly thinks his heart always grows three sizes too big whenever she smiles at him. He uses it whenever he can.

-Together the use (share), a cliche touristy one of the Rockefeller Christmas tree because it reminds them both of that night they walked around the city viewing the decorations. 

-(It was also that same night, the first night, Bucky stayed over)

Do either or both have one that says something ridiculous?

- “No use crying over spilled beans”

- “I like you a latte”, because Bucky is a soft sappy puppy of a man and blushed a little when he gave it to Y/N

-Y/N got Bucky to sit down and marathon the Harry Potter movies…to which she got him a mug that says “Espresso Patronum”

-They now have a cabinet full of mugs, collectors and practical ones, right above the coffee station in their shared apartment. -And when Bucky proposes, it isn’t at Ella Cafe where they met as he literally crashed into her life. Or Loving Arms Center, or the park, or in front of the Rockefeller tree a year after they were dating. Nope.

-He purposes by surprising Y/N in bed with breakfast and homemade pumpkin bread (he begged Pete for the recipe and worked really hard on it). He brings the tray in as she sits up, looking beautiful and sleepy and every bit his. 

-The tray holds a plate of eggs and toast and bacon, and the pumpkin bread. Strangely though, there’s the “i love you a latte” mug full of coffee, but there’s a to-go cup there as well with Ella’s Cafe logo on it.

-Y/N is only slightly confused, but since it’s maple latte season, she doesn’t find it unusual.

-Until she picks it up and the weight doesn’t match a cup of liquid. She gives Bucky a confused little look, then pops off the top. She tilts the cup upside down.

-A small black box falls into her palm.

-Before she can open it, before she can even properly react, Bucky is carefully opening the box.

-”I knew I was falling in love with you that first night you dragged me out into the cold to watch the snow fall at 3 am.”

-”You held snowflakes in your hand,” Y/N says breathlessly. She stares at the simple, yet stunning ring in the box. Then looks at Bucky.

-”Yeah,” He chuckles nervously. His cheeks are a dusty pink, but his eyes remain on her. “I just figured…I would love to be woken up in the middle of the night to watch the snow with you for the rest of my life. If that’s okay.”

-Y/N is too busy smiling to respond, and too busy reaching for the ring. Bucky takes her left hand instead, and pulls the ring from it’s little nesting spot.

-”Will you marry me, Y/N?” Bucky asks, his voice shaking just a little. “I mean, I haven’t knocked your coffee over for a good 8 months now.”

-Y/N laughs softly, taking the ring from his fingers to slip it on her left fourth finger. “Well, how could I say no to that progress? Of course I’ll marry you, Bucky.”

-The expression on Bucky’s face will be one Y/N remembers forever as he tackles her in a gleeful kiss. 

-He may not have spilled her coffee, but he did knock the plate of food all over the bed. Neither of them care.

(omg I did not mean for this to turn into the tiniest, fluffiest, drabble of Cafe Crema)

Tagging: @justreadingfics @doritoevansxwinterschildren @125bluemachine125 @loislp @buckys-amethyst-world @kat-lives @wheredid-ileavethe-tardis @aurajitsu@jazzcarr3006 @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @sophiealiice @srhls@demonkitkat @laughandwrite @cauraphernelia @buckysboobear @buckywhoops@captain-ariel-barnes

[boonesfarmsangria]

(Credits: Far Out / Kate Friend)

Orlando Weeks – ‘Loja’ album review: an artist stepping into the sunshine

THE SKINNY: For me, and likely many others my age, it’s very difficult not to see a bracket after reading Orlando Weeks‘ name that says “former Maccabees singer”. Weeks’ work with the indie darlings is impossibly connected to his life. Since then he has offered a string of superb, variated solo albums. However, with Loja, the songwriter must surely be seen most clearly in his own right.

During my teens, I had the pleasure of following The Maccabees for tens of gigs during their earliest moments. Trying to find the location of the venue that ended up looking like a disused school gym, travelling up and down motorways to see them support The Futureheads and travelling to the arse-end of middle England to scoot between their sets and that of Hot Club De Paris (ask your parents). However, even I can now happily attest that Orlando Weeks is far more than just the singer of that important band.

Loja is the sum of Weeks’ long and winding road. It captures not only the brilliance of The Gritterman, A Quickening and Hop Up, which each took massive strides forward for him as an artist, but also the journey Weeks has experienced as a man. No longer the shiny-faced young adult with a collar so tightened to the top one feared his head might pop off, Weeks is now creating records that act as maps to the landscape of his adult life.

Effortlessly blending electronic modernism with the rich organic crema that one can only find in the cafes of Lisbon, Weeks is clearly evolving beyond anything his audience may have imagined. There’s a dexterity to Loja that hasn’t been seen before, as he not only provides a sense of welcoming warmth but doesn’t ignore the chill of the shadows it can cast.

Similarly, it’s difficult not to see Loja – an ode to the new artist studio he resides in – as Week’s striding out of the shadow of his former work and enveloping himself in the blissful sunshine of a new chapter. It is a record that feels liberated enough to do what it pleases.

For fans of: The Maccabees, still, probably.

A concluding comment from my wife: “Why do you look so proud?”

Orlando Weeks – Loja track by track

‘Longing’: Opening with his enigmatic vocal is a smart way for Orlando Weeks to confirm his evolution away from “former Maccabees singer” into his own artistic presence. the fact that ‘Longing’ continues to sonically raise the listener’s spirit is a happy coincidence. [3.5/5]

‘Best Night’: There are two paths for an album to take. They can either undulate between genre and rhythm, delivering something that never stays still, or they can flow from river to sea with a simple grace. Weeks has brought out the latter, and ‘Best Night’ sees us floating down toward the ocean. [4/5]

‘Wake Up’: Weeks’ captivating lyrics and always cherishable vocals continue to provide solace in an otherwise lonesome soundscape on ‘Wake Up’. Ethereal as the morning dew dripping off a strange window before kicking into a chainsaw riff that provides a welcome dose of grit. [4/5]

‘Dig’: While the record is certainly blessed with a light touch and Weeks’ noted artistry, there is also a pulsing rhythm to the LP that many will overlook. ‘Dig’, complimented by Wet Leg’s Rhian Teasdale, is one of the album’s best visions of this, built out of the breathy tension of the two singers biting at one another. [4.5/5]

‘You & The Packhorse Blues’: It may feel easy to pick out this track as one of the lighter moments of the LP, but there’s a certain venom to the song that belies this idea. But the flow continues to take us through a new dusty landscape and towards the sea. [4/5]

‘Good To See You’: This is the first time Weeks moves away from the more organic sound that permeates the record and welcomes the electro wobble that has filtered into most of his post-Maccabees work. However, this time, it feels more easily placed than ever. A sense of warmth and welcoming overcomes the potentially cold introduction to produce smiles and swaying hips. [4.5/5]

‘My Love Is (Daylight Saving)’: Meanwhile, as electronic glitches become more prominent, balanced with a crunchy guitar, Weeks produces a slow-build beauty that has all the chops to completely captivate you. [4/5]

‘Please Hold’: As the river flows, there is always the chance of the odd rock and rapid capsizing you. ‘Please Hold’ is certainly the most heartbreaking track on the LP, as Weeks pleads to hold on: “It’s winter now, but the spring is coming,” he belts with a purpose. [4.5/5]

‘Sorry’: Weeks’ ability to blend electronic and organic sounds together has been a mainstay of his previous work, and ‘Sorry’ is so effortless it’s difficult to call the drum machine he uses anything other than an extension of his creativity. The duality allows every song to be both rich in pathos and gilded with a sense of hope. [4.5/5]

‘Tomorrow’: Almost home. The speed increases, and Weeks’ delivery takes heed, pushing the tempo and allowing the almost-choral breaks to be punctuated with a sense of purpose. It’s hard not to feel enlivened by such a moving track, add headphones to that concoction and you have something potentially life-changing. [5/5]

‘Beautiful Place’: The sweet embrace of the ocean. At the end of the 11-track journey, Weeks sees us out with something unstoppably tender and enveloping, pushing his prominent vocal to the fore and concluding a record worthy of his heavenly tone. [4/5]

[formeryelpers]

Chico’s, 100 N Ave 50, Los Angeles (Highland Park), CA 90042

Chico’s is one of the older Mexican restaurants in Highland Park. It was established in 1993. The building is covered by a colorful mural and they even have a few parking spots in the back.

The menu includes breakfast (eggs), appetizers, salads, combination plates, soups, seafood, tortas, burgers, tacos, sopes, burritos, enchiladas, etc. They even have a vegetarian section of the menu. Breakfast is served all day. Meat choices: asada, lengua, carnitas, pastor, pollo. Prices are reasonable.

Chilaquiles (choice of rojo or verde sauce) with corn tortillas, sauce, cheese, and two eggs your way ($12.75): The eggs were a little over but the yolks were still moist with a bit of runniness. The chips were thin and still had some crunch. The red sauce wasn’t spicy at all. The refried pinto beans were thick and creamy (probably made with lard). Spanish rice was fine – fluffy with peas. It was on the plain side – chips, sauce, cojita, eggs and nothing else – no cilantro, no onions, no crema.

Cafe de olla ($3.75): Hot Mexican coffee with cinnamon, comes with free refills. Very sweet. He combined it with regular coffee for me to dilute the sweetness.

Chips and salsa ($1.50): I didn’t realize these weren’t complimentary. When I sat down, I was asked, do you want chips and salsa? Anyway, the chips and salsa were worth the $1.50 – plenty of thin, crispy corn tortilla chips (housemade?) and a chunky fresh tomato salsa

There’s a 3% surcharge if paying by credit card. Beer is available. Service was friendly. The place was cozy and cluttered. The booths were comfortable. They were even selling nutritional supplements there.  

3.5 of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

[sj-ficrecs]

FIC REC: oldies but goodies

Decided to go back and re-discover some of my older favorite fics that aren’t as recent and re-read them. Maybe older fics you haven’t read yet. So here we go, In no particular order. This one includes Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Sebastian x reader, etc. Enjoy!

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

2020 fave fics // recs: one // two // three // four // five

Bucky Barnes x reader:

Howlin’ For You by @invisibleanonymousmonsters Biker!Bucky x reader

“When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name.“

Safe With Me by @bitsandbobsandstuff Bodyguard!Bucky x reader

“When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected. “

Leave This Town by @avengerofyourheart​ Mechanic!Bucky x reader AU

“Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.“

Spilled Wine by @sunmoonandbucky​ King!Bucky x servant!reader

“You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.“

Emergency Room by @jaamesbbarnes​ Doctor!Bucky x reader

“Who would have thought that going to the ER could made a bad night turn pretty nicely?”

Just One Kiss by @sarahwroteathing​ 40s!Bucky x reader (happy ending)

“Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?“

All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by @ursulaismymiddlename​ Bucky x reader

Sam asks his old friend if Bucky can live with her while he’s recovering. 

“Wilson had come to you as Sam, your old friend, Sam, the man you trusted, Sam, who thought more of you than you did yourself sometimes.  And he was with people he trusted that could use your help.  Damn that man for knowing you all too well, for knowing that you were a sucker for a tragic tale.“James Buchanan Barnes,” Natasha informed when the scruffy-haired man with the metal arm was ushered quickly into your living room to sit on your couch.“Bucky,” Steve corrected solemnly and you suddenly saw a war going on in the broody blue eyes of your new acquaintance.  One war or a hundred or a thousand, all because of a word that was said more like a quiet plea than a nickname.They’d barely finished telling you all they knew before you gave them your answer.“Okay.”“

A Touch of Ink & sequel Of Love and Ink by @deamstellarus​ Tattoo Artist!Single dad!Bucky x reader

��After a breakup with your ex, you decided to move to the small town where your long-time friend Sam lives, hoping for a change of pace and starting a new chapter in your life. You were prepared for a slower paced lifestyle, quaint diners, and a change of scenery. However, you didn’t expect to be swept off your feet by two stunning pairs of blue-grey eyes.“

Heart to Love by @mywritingsblog (can’t tag for some reason) Modern!Bucky x reader, fake dating AU

“You hate Bucky Barnes. He’s arrogant, full of himself, shallow and a total womanizer. But when you take him as your fake date to your family’s Christmas vacation you learn there’s a lot more to Bucky Barnes than meets the eye, a whole lot more.”

Time After Time by @justsomebucky​ Modern!Bucky x reader au

“When the reader’s parents divorce, her mother moves her to a new town, right next door to Bucky Barnes. This is their love story.”

Cafe Crema by @wonderlandmind4​ Bucky x reader

“The first time was an accident. The second time was coincidence. The third time is just unlucky. The fourth time is getting out of hand and the fifth may or may not be with intent. Otherwise known as The One Where He Spills Her Coffee.“

Bulletproof by @amandaoftherosemire​ College!Bucky x reader

“You, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes have been the best of friends since middle school. On top of that, you’ve been in love with Bucky pretty much the whole time. Everything changed after the three of you got to college, however. Over the past couple of years you and Steve have become even closer but things between you and Bucky have been strained since the night he broke your heart. Can anything bring you back together?“

Espresso by @shurisneakers​ Modern!Bucky x reader

“In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.“

Sleeping Beauty by @221bshrlocked Bucky x shapeshifter!reader

Just the adventures of Bucky and reader who turns into different animals and they very much prefer being around Bucky.

Feelings Are Fatal by @sunmoonandbucky​

Bucky x reader, past Steve x reader

“After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.“

Paper Walls by @writingcroissant​ Bucky x reader

“Your apartment happens to be right next to Bucky’s, heads only separated by a paper-thin wall, leading to you witnessing every second of his nightmares. Although, bonding over your late night conversations, you seem to forget that you never even saw him before.“

Seven Thirty by @nacho-bucky-fics @nacho-bucky (for some reason it won’t let me tag the main account.) Bucky x reader 

“You were planning on a productive — if lonely — weekend, but the little girl across the hall has different ideas about how you and Bucky Barnes should be spending your time.“

Tender Surprises by @empyreanwritings​ Biker!Bucky x reader

“On Bucky’s birthday, your son has a very important question to ask him. And it may just be the greatest gift anyone has ever given him.“

Words on My Skin by @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked Bucky x reader soulmates

"Words that have significant meaning in their soulmate’s life appear on the skin at birth & emotional bond.

Y/n had always felt a little leery about the tattoo on her wrist. She could feel her soulmate’s aversion to the 10 russian words, and was too chicken shit to translate them… When she finally does? All hell breaks loose. Life will never be the same.”

My Neighbor’s a Jerk by @jurassicbarnes​ Modern!Bucky x reader

“there’s this mutual feeling between you and your neighbor, called hate. and since your first meet you both commence that feeling with a burning passion. you don’t know the reason behind his hate but you know for damn sure that he will never tell you. but what happens on the first day of your job, when you find out that you even work together? maybe you will learn to co-operate?

“𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆?” “𝒊 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖.”“

Flour Girl by @avengerofyourheart​ Modern!Bucky x reader, Baker AU

“Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)“

The Witness by @wkemeup​ Detective!Bucky x reader

“Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.“

Sparks by @sunriserose1023​ Bucky x doctor!reader, Enemies to Lovers AU

Sparks fly between the Avenger’s team doctor and Bucky, except they seemingly don’t get along.

South Hills by @beccaanne814​ Southern/Cowboy!Bucky x reader

“You have been in love with Bucky your entire life, but he still sees you as the kid his friend used to babysit.  When you finally get him to notice you, will you be able to convince him that you’re the only woman for him?“

Catch Me by @buckyywiththegoodhair​ Bucky x reader

“In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.”

Keeping Score by @all1e23​ Bucky x reader, fake dating au

“After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?”

365 Days by @abovethesmokestacks​ Bucky x reader, soulmate AU

“you all know how it is, the one constant in this hellish life: you have a soulmate. no idea who it is, no clues whatsoever, only 25 years to find them. in 364 days, my time’s up. it sounds like a lot, but so does 25 years, and look where that got me. so, for better or for worse, i’ll try. i’ve got twelve months to find whoever my soul is knit together with.”

Love or Hate by @justsomebucky​ Modern!Bucky x reader, enemies to lovers au

“When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she continues to see the person responsible all over town. Will she learn that there’s a fine line between love and hate?”

Wrong Number by @jaamesbbarnes​ Bucky x reader

“When calling people for a living turns out being your favorite thing in the world.”

Mark Yes or No by @teamcap4bucky​ Bucky x reader

“Sometimes you find the most comfort in the people you barely know, because it’s there where you’ll find the least judgment.“

Bloody Roses by @the--sad--hatter​ Bucky x reader

“What you thought was a trapped squirrel turned out to be a super soldier in need. It’s not every day an Avenger turns up in your garden; in serious need of help, but you deal with it as best as you can.“

Not Happening by @notimetoblog​ Modern!Bucky x reader, enemies to lovers au

“An online dating site clearly makes a mistake when it matches you with the one person you cannot stand.”

I Hate Everybody by @morsmordre-writes​ College!Bucky x reader, social media au

“After spending the summer getting over your high school sweetheart, it’s time for new beginnings. What else is college for?“

On, Off, Repeat by @avasparks​ Bucky x reader

“It’s been 247 days since Bucky came back home. It’s been a good 300 days since he last felt remotely human. He came back from his last tour not only battered and bruised, but down one arm, and a nice big hole in his head causing brain damage.It’s been 247 days since Bucky left his apartment.“

Say It by @sgtjbuccky​ Bucky x reader

“In where you loved Bucky unconditionally, enough to sacrifice your life for his happiness, now Bucky tries to save yours.“

Steve Rogers x reader:

Slow Like Honey by @heli0s-writes​ Single Dad!Steve x teacher!reader AU “The gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet, sensitive, divorcé Steve Rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact.”

Missed Connections by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend​ College!Steve x reader

“The reader sees the same guy almost everywhere on campus. Despite her friends encouraging, she is too shy to talk to him, but will that all change when there’s a post on the school’s missed connections page?“

Twenty-Twenty by @brooklyns-boys​​ (story on Google Drive link) Steve x blind!reader

Post Endgame Steve is retired, filling his time walking the streets of NYC reacquainting himself with Brooklyn. He stumbles upon an old bookstore and takes a liking to the woman behind the counter. 

Sebastian Stan x reader:

Great Chemistry by @thedevilwearsvibranium​ Sebastian x actress!reader

“After years of auditions and small acting jobs, you finally get picked to play the female lead in a major spy movie: Rogue Agency. Suddenly you find out that the actor playing the male lead and love interest is none other than Sebastian Stan himself. Throughout the story you go through the motions of filming a movie and come to find out that you and Seb have great chemistry. Do you take the leap and let yourself fall in love with your costar?”

[mint-moon25]

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FORMER - ROYAL - HAWAIIAN - ISLANDS

THEIR - QUEENS - BULLIMIC

ATE - OVER - 600 FISHES - DAILY - SO ITS

THE - MALES - THEIR - SERVANTS - AND

SOLDIERS - SO - MANY - YOUNG - MEN

LEFT - BY - WATER - AND - LATER WITH

KAYAKS - THEIRS - LEFT - 4 - THIS - USA

CALIFORNIA - ESCAPED

LOTS - OF - WORK - OVER - 600 FISHES

PER - DAY - SO - THEIR - ROYALTY FAILED

LATER - HAWAII - BECAME - USA - STATE

50 STATE - TOPLESS - ALLOWED - BUT

AS - SURVEYS - HAWAII - END - OF THE

WORLD - THEIR - SUNLIGHT - DANGEROUS

IN - BEACHES - LIKE - 2 HRS - THERE - SO

MANY - FEMALES - SURFED - TOPLESS

WITH - FLOWERS - SOON - BECAME YES

SAGGING - AND - WRINKLED - PRUNE

BAG - THEY - CALLED - THEM - GRANDMAS

WITH - RESPECT - BUT - AGE 23 - ONLY - YES

NO - UMBRELLAS

THEIR - BRAS - THEIR - COCONUTS

VERY - LAZY - PEOPLE

THEIR - HAWAIIAN - DANCE - A - SLEEPER

SO - TAHITI - CAME - INTRODUCED - TAHITIAN

THEIR - ISLANDS - CAME - 2 - LIFE - EVEN YES

TODAY - LUAU - IS - TAHITI - OR - THEY - FALL

ASLEEP - SO - CONTINUING - NEXT - SESSION

GOT - ANOTHER - EMAIL - CONTINUE MOVING

CLICK - PAYMENT - 'EMPTY'

CLICKED - LEASE - 'EMPTY'

EXACTLY - VERY - LEGAL - EMAIL

PRICE - OF - LOW - INCOME - APTS

THEIR - PROPERTY - MANAGEMENT

1 FEMALE

SPANISH - SPEAKING - MAINTENANCE

EACH - BLDG - OTHER - ALSO - SPEAKS

ENGLISH - THAT'S - IT

ILLEGAL - STAFF - ILLEGAL - NUMBERS

240923 YUNA ✨ otw to paris for fashion week

[misscaptainamericana]

begin again - andy barber x reader

word count: 1861

content warning: professor/student relationship ish??, age gap, talks of sex/ smut not written out

author's note: rich student in law school, events take place after the finale of defending jacob, k thanks :)

Andy Barber had had a hard few years. These years ended with him divorcing Laurie and burying his son, it was time for him to start over. He moved to the complete opposite end of the country. Oregon state to become a law professor and that’s when he met you. You were in his first class and there was an exercise where groups had to take terms questioning a murder suspect. You were feisty and quick-witted, he loved that. You took two of his classes for your undergrad degree requirements before applying for the position to be his TA throughout your graduate years. You had thought about being his TA immediately after you were done taking his classes. During the application you were so worried that he wouldn’t remember you or even worse he would have a bad memory of you. Towards the end of the interview he put down the notepad he was holding and told you, “I was delighted when I saw your name in the list of applicants. You were an absolute pleasure to have in class.”

You couldn’t help but sit up straighter with a smile, “Wait, really?”

“Really, one of the best students I ever had and you’re going to make an incredible lawyer someday.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Barber, truly!”

“Call me Andy.”

“Okay…Thank you, Andy.”

“Want to start tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds great! What time do you normally get to campus?”

“Around eight in the morning but as long as you get here before ten I won’t fuss about it.”

The first month was tame. Lingering glances or touches that last a second too long or obscene comments either of you let slip, hinting at the other to do something. By the end of the fifth week, Andy could barely concentrate on anything. You never noticed it while taking his class but he always had to fidget a pen. Whether it be clicking, taping, or intense scribbling - he needed to use his hands. Staring at him all you wanted was to feel those hands over every inch of your body. A few minutes had gone by before you decided to clear your throat and ask, “Something on your mind?”

“No, I just- Trying to figure out a better way to quiz them so it actually sticks. I hate paper tests, they don’t prove you retained any information.”

“Well, I can try to think up some things and email you a list.”

“Okay, okay, yeah…That’s a great idea.”

You smiled and stood up before beginning to grab your belongings from around the room while Andy tapped his pen on the desk. With a sigh he spoke up again, “Actually, Y/N, Tomorrow since there’s no classes and we’re just grading do you want to grab coffee first?”

The question took you off guard a little, “Oh, sure. Where at?”

He shrugged with a smile, “I was hoping you would know a place.”

You thought it over before responding with a minute nod, “Actually I do know a place. It’s called Crema.”

“Okay, seven thirty?

“Sure thing…See you tomorrow.

“See you tomorrow!”

The next morning you were a bundle of nerves, you had woken up at five just to make sure you had enough time to get fully ready. You could’ve showed up in the basic attire and makeup you did every day but this felt special. This felt different.

You changed three times that morning and were about to change a fourth when you realized you needed to make it over to the cafe. The Wednesday morning air was cold as you made your way into the building. You were expecting to pick a table off to the side and scroll through twitter waiting for Andy, but he was there. He placed down his coffee cup and stood up from the table in the back with a small wave. Your heart began to race as you walked over to the table, “Good morning!”

“Good morning! You look incredible.” He told you with a warm smile as he pulled your chair out.

“Thank you, I like this dark blue color on you.”

He smiled looking over his button down shirt, “Yeah?”

You nodded, not being able to help your smile as he started to blush.

Andy cleared his throat before standing up straight, “Is there anything I can order for you?”

“Uhm, sure! I’ll take a honey vanilla latte and a cinnamon roll.”

“Coming right up.” He lightly patted your back before making his way over to the counter. It took a few minutes but he returned with your order and a breakfast sandwich for himself. The nerves were there for both of you for the first few minutes but when Andy changed the conversation to personal stories. Something to do with your honey latte and the first time he was ever stung by a bee. This led into your story of your first time riding a bike at the park and you fell into the pond. Andy threw his head back laughing and you accidentally let out a small snort.

The coffee date was something so sweet and personal that it really opened up your relationship at the college. Most days you would bring Andy coffee and pastry from the cafe and he would go out and get your favorite foods for lunch. With the holidays coming up and the classes and even staff starting to dwindle, there wasn’t much work to do besides prep for the influx of final papers. You and your parents hadn’t spent a holiday together since you were eighteen and you knew Andy had nowhere to go. You had finally felt comfortable enough so you decided it would be a nice time to invite him over to dinner.

“Mr. Barber?”

He looked up from the paper in his hand with a smile and took the pen out of his mouth, “Andy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Andy, would you like to come over on Friday? I know we have a long weekend coming up and I’d love to make dinner for you.”

“I’d love that…What time?”

“Six?” You asked as you quickly scribbled down your address on a sticky note.

“I’ll be there, should I bring anything?”

“Just your appetite.” You said in response, holding out the note to him.

He gently took the note from your hands and placed it in his pocket, “You got it.”

Friday night came around and when he pulled up to the address in his GPS he was surprised to see you lived in a full townhouse. When he walked in he complimented your place before taking off his jacket and you thanked him with a small smile as you shut the door.

“With a place like this I imagine you have people over for college parties all the time.”

You shrugged and your smile slightly fell, “Having daddy’s money and simply going to college doesn’t get you very many friends.”

“That’s a shame, they’re missing out.” He told you with a smile, placing a hand on your back as he followed you to the kitchen. He helped you carry the food out to your small dining room table before you both sat down to eat. The dinner was nice, it felt nice to talk to someone about something other than work. It was nice hearing stories from his past even though some had pained him to talk about. He more than enjoyed hearing the stories that made you into the person you were today. After dinner and doing the dishes together, you both resigned to your living room to drink and continue the discussion. He made his way through the living room, looking things over and pointing out the James Taylor record collection, before sitting in the emerald green chair by the window.

His eyes studied you as his tongue danced around your teeth causing you to laugh before asking, “Why are you analyzing me?”

“You’re a lot more shy than you are in my office, why is that?”

“I don’t know…Trying to think something over before I do it.”

“Well that’s not like you.” He said with a chuckle causing you to gasp.

“That’s not fair!”

He quickly pulled the bottle away from his lips, nodding quickly, “It’s very fair!” He called out with his accent lingering on the word ‘fair’.

His eyes narrowed as they studied you, “You’ve always been so quick on your feet, connecting dots the fastest. So what is it? What are you stuck on?”

“I can’t talk about it.” You said before biting your lip.

“Can’t talk about it in general or can’t talk about it to me?”

The room fell silent for a few minutes before he down the last of his beer and looked back at you. “Well, I guess it’s time that I head out.”

“Andy wait-” You sighed as you quickly rose to your feet wanting to stop him from leaving.

He relaxed back into the chair with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?”

You slowly walked over to him wringing your hands together, “Andy.”

He looked up at you with a small smile, “Yes, Y/N.”

“Did you come over to my house because I’m a great assistant or is there something more here?”

“You’re a smart girl, sit down and tell me what you think is going on here.”

You took a deep breath before sitting down on his lap and rubbing his chest lightly, “I can tell you what I’m hoping is going on here…I’m hoping that this amazing man Andy came over to my house for dinner and he liked dinner enough to stay the night with me.”

“I didn't tell you to tell me what you were hoping for.” His voice was so low the vibrations of it shook your soul.

You swallowed hard before looking in his eyes, “I think me and you have been playing cat and mouse long enough. I think you should take me up to my room and make me scream your name until I lose my voice because I’ve earned it.”

“I think that can be arranged.” He said softly as he reached up to grab your chin and pull you in to kiss him.

He was so nervous to have sex with you. You were so much younger than him and he wasn’t sure how much experience you had. However he was going to make sure all of this waiting was worth every second. By the end of the night you were a whimpering trembling mess, both of you more than satisfied. As he laid down next to you and you quickly cuddled up against him, he kissed your forehead and began to softly rub your back. “Do you want me to draw you up a bath or-”

“No, no…Just hold me.”

“Mmkay, honey. Whatever you want.”

When he woke up the next morning you were still resting on his chest and the sun was out. It was the first time in years that he had peacefully rested through the night. For the first time, what’s past is truly past, and he felt like he was taking the first steps towards healing.

[incorrigibill]

It all seems different now. Not smaller exactly, but contained in a way, like a lego set you have nearly completed. The number of parts is exactly the same (hopefully) as when you tore open the package and dumped them on the floor, but the way they fit together now takes up less space, at least in your head. In this case though, you have not been working to assemble it. Not consciously. You have been drifting in and out of this giant room, leaving pieces here and there, qui e li (quee a lee). You have felt frustrated at times, wondering if this giant mess in your mind would ever come together. You’ve wandered off countless times and somehow made it even messier.

And then you wandered again, slower this time, and without purpose. Alone. You lingered and circled and stared at things you knew you had seen weeks, if not months before. But still you stared. You never touched your phone. Not once. And magically, this day, it all came together, from on high, a place you would have never suspected and nearly missed.

But you didn’t. You didn’t miss it. You didn’t listen to that little voice in your head that was saying it wasn’t even ancient. That it was just a tourist attraction. That you had things to do. You have learned this about yourself, finally. The little voice, the one that criticizes and judges and urges onward at times, is not actually you. And it often is the thing keeping you from finding the answer you need.

I am sitting at Caffe Greco, on Via Condotti, near the Spanish Steps, which I see towering above me from my table on the street. But those are not actually the steps! The towering parts are the dual bell towers of the Trinità dei Monti, the Church of the Most Holy Trinity on the Mounts. But when you say the Spanish Steps, I bet most people think of the beautiful towers at the top of the steps. Or maybe it is just me.

I am the first to sit outside today and have the little street patio of Caffe Greco all to myself. It is the oldest bar in Rome, by which I mean a place for coffee, or a cafe. It opened in 1760 and its patrons have included dozens of noteworthy intellectuals and writers including Keats, Byron, Goethe, Schopenhauer, and especially Ibsen, my favorite of the “ancients.” But even Mann and Joyce and Twain were here. And it is not hard to see why. It is a beautiful cafe and exactly my color scheme too—red walls, red upholstery and just the right amount of dark wood accents throughout. And it is curious inside too. Little passages and nooks and some larger rooms too. Something for everyone.

I tried to find a place inside—it was a bit chilly outside—but today nothing seemed right to me. I’m grateful that I persisted in my search and wandered back outside. Sometimes in Rome, a mere ten minutes can seem to have a temperature change of nearly the same amount. And when I looked up towards the steps and saw the bright blue sky without a cloud to be seen, I put my piccolo piquadro bag down and gazed at the tips of the bell towers, which seemed almost ablaze in the sun.

When a waiter finally emerged from inside, I had already done my homework for my order. I pointed to my phone and the picture I had taken moments before and said “Come si chiama?” “Fagottino,” he said and then waited for me to respond. “Crema? Ricotta?” I asked. “Ricotta, si, un something something, raisin, caramel,” he said. Two kinds. I of course asked for un caffe and the something, something, raisin, caramel. He nodded and was off and I took out my blue book, the one that is nearly full now, and started scribbling, which is an accurate description of my handwriting on a cool morning.

When I crossed the Tiber earlier, I remembered this street. I remembered too seeing the huge Lego store and the Ferrari store further back. And much further back, near what I now call the Piazza Cavour—and then called the Supreme Court building—I happened by the French bistro that my friend Walid had pointed out my first or second week here some two months ago now. That I had not even seen it since then tells you much about human beings and their tendencies towards tighter and tighter rings, especially if you knew how close it actually is to the CEA center where I go several days a week. It all seemed so disconnected then and so vast. A clear idea of things seemed it might never emerge.

But it did, yesterday. I had planned to go to the Baths of Caracalla with Jason in the early afternoon, but when he cancelled to get some grading done, I thought I would enjoy wandering back there anyway. The last time I was there was over thirty years ago and I do recall being impressed then with the intricate tile work and the enormity of it all. If there is one thing you need to give the early Romans credit for, it is thinking big. But as I took the first few steps out of my apartment, I found myself veering towards the Piazza di Popolo and Via del Corso, and the idea of the baths seemed to just drift away. I do not know exactly what drives me at times, but I know it is not ruins or antiquity. It is something much more alive.

I love Via del Corso. It is such a modern experience in so many ways. So many shops. So many people wandering the streets. It reminds me of the Minnesota State Fair streets, packed with people, seemingly purposeless—out for a stroll and some window shopping. But after being in Pompei and the areas around the Forum, I wonder if it hasn’t always been this way. People always seem to be drawn to other people, and of course a little food and maybe a little something nice.

Via del Corso also draws a straight line from Piazza di Popolo all the way to the Victor Emmanuel Monument, also known as Altare della Patria (Altar of the Fatherland). It is impossible to miss from almost anywhere along the street. The enormity of it and the enormous winged equestrian sculptures flanking the ends soar over the city below. As I looked back over my shoulder toward the Piazza di Popolo and its central obeslisk, I was reminded of Jan’s Roman history class and his comments about the public spaces in ancient Rome and how they were often positioned to visually connect and align with other prestigious spaces and places to increase the status and prestige of the new monument. (And especially the new monument’s honoree). It was ever thus.

That feeling became much more pronounced when I decided traverse all of Via del Corso and to climb the stairs at the Victor Emmanuel. I had been by it before on the way to the Forum, and on the way home from the Colossium, and other times too. Yet I had never climbed the stairs. It had seemed kind of ridiculous then, vaguely like watching the Yankees on your phone while you are sitting in the stadium. That isn’t exactly right, I know, but it seemed like a cheap distraction then, a decidedly tourist thing to do. But I had nothing better to do, I had seen all this before I said to myself, and I did want to see what the Piazza di Popola looked like from way up there. So up I went.

And it was lovely. I decided to climb to the upper terrace level, above the sculpture of Victorious Victor on his high horse. It wasn’t much of a climb but I was surprised at my latent resistance to follow the excited crowds. So I did it anyway. Sometimes you just have to take total control of yourself. And that view was amazing too. The Piazza di Popolo obelisk is very faint from here, not nearly as visible as Victor from there, which says something I think, about “the people” versus “the one,” who always seems to be higher and more visible no matter what the circumstances nor the era.

I thought right then that this day, which earlier seemed the epitome of a broken play, with the misfire and the change of plans, and then the other change of plans—the randomness of it all combined with the unexpected—had suddenly become almost the pinnacle of the trip. The place where the pieces finally came together into a more coherent whole, all while doing nothing to force it. It reminded me of the article Abe Flexner once wrote about the usefulness of useless information. Sometimes, maybe most times, the real breakthroughs come when your mind is elsewhere and you are simply a creature in the world.

But even creatures will need to find an exit from the top of the Victor’s High Horse. In the post-Covid era, the idea of an exit as something different from a reverse entrance has taken firm hold. I tried to go back down the same stairs I ascended but was stopped and redirected. And then found another set and asked the police officer where the exit was—uscita? I must’ve said it just right because she launched into full blown high-speed Italian, gestures included, and all I could do was say “Si, Si, Si—grazie,” and move away, still confused but more like a local than a foreigner. I followed a stream of people into a small stairway, and then a passageway, and emerged back into the open air with what seemed the same scenic views. But they were not.

I walked up to the edge and looked out and immediately saw the Colosseum. And tracing a line back from there, went right over the Forum and all those places within that space that we had stopped and listened to Jan wax not exactly poetic, but perhaps emphatic, about anything and everything in that place. Suddenly, almost shockingly, all of Rome—my Rome—snapped into place. Piazza di Popola to Vittorio Emmanuel to the Colosseum to the Forum and even the Spanish Steps. I stepped back for a few minutes and then took it all in again. It is all of a piece now. Interconnected. Linked. I finally have a sense of what I’ve been walking through and around for nearly three months.

With the newfound enthusiasm of a model almost complete, I simply had to backtrack to the Pantheon and the Piazza Navonna on my way home and snap them into place too. They are very familiar pieces and I could almost put them on blind-folded, but I did it anyway and then went back to the Piazza di Popola just to make a full circle. Because my circle is almost complete too. I head home in less than two weeks and now I feel like I can carry all of this back with me. Finally.

(By the way, that pastry above, the fagottino—most delicious thing I’ve had in Rome.)

[wonderlandmind4]

😭💗😭💗 thank you anon! And thank you @delicatelyherdreams 🥰 congrats on 3k!!!

Hi! I recently stumbled across @wonderlandmind4 and their Cafe Crema fic. It’s a Bucky fic and it’s just so fluffy and it made my day when I read it! I just think she wrote him so well :) I just wanted to give a shoutout to that writer :) they have more but I haven’t read the rest of their fics yet!

Oh fluff is my favorite genre!! I have a feeling I’ll enjoy it!

Cafe Crema by @wonderlandmind4 has been added to the list. I can’t wait to pay the love I’ve gotten forward to it!!

[ginkgomoon]

I Like You A Latte- Gavin ☕️

Happy blog birthday to @cheri-cheri. Another gift would like to present itself to you! 💙

“The exam is officially over,” you sigh.

All those years of studying and recurring late nights pouring the blood, sweat and tears for you push towards the finish line were all worth it.

You are now free.

Kind of… but not really.

For once, you were outside not catching the train to go university, heading off into another library or exam room. You had thought to savour this rare time to yourself before heading off to find a job. Thankfully, public transport is convenient enough to take you just about anywhere in Loveland City.

With only your phone, wallet and keys in hand, you stroll along the all too familiar building blocks near your home, pondering on where to go for the long awaited first day out by yourself. Should you go for some udon? Bingsoo? Pudding, perhaps?

While breathing in the sweet air of freedom, you admire the city that you grew up in, absorbing the view from down below and up at the infrastructure that the city was so renowned for.

The height, distance and those buildings haven't changed. But you- the stages of your life, experiences and perspectives have. The city almost seemed a little bit more… brighter. More alive. Or maybe… would it be for just this once?

This, you fear.

The glare of the sun continues beating down, its light reflecting off the glass buildings passing its judgement on the entire city. The heat is suffocating and you long for a cool drink or nice air-con to rely on to keep you sane.

A vision suddenly intrudes, presenting the clean pastel coloured store-front of the café that had just opened up nearby. You remember that you had power-walked right past the “WE ARE OPEN” sign on your way home from a past exam to prepare for the final one a few days ago.

You know you rarely enter any cafés at all, but your love for coffee and urge to explore someplace new begin to steer your legs into the walking direction of where you had remembered it to be.

As you soon reach the entrance, the sign you saw from the peripheral of your memory greets you.

“BRUNCH CAFE. WE ARE OPEN.”

You push open the heavy glass door, instantly entering a world of relief. Still in between the two opposing temperatures, you hastily swing the door back and encase yourself in paradise.

You take a moment to briefly scan your surroundings. The café, although it claims to be open, has everything but the barista. It wasn’t as big as the Starbucks down at the shopping centres, but it was humble enough for its size and able to fit all the requirements a café needs.

Soft instrumental music starts to reel you in further, like a siren hypnotising a sailor. You feel... peaceful. Though you wonder if you were hearing the non-diegetic music of the film occurring right in front of your eyes instead of your almost-dream café.

The minimalist designs, the ambience, and the extremely posh and elegant windows that you didn’t admire enough the first time strikes your appeal. You also confirm with yourself that this was the café that you would choose to break the cycle of drinking instant coffees everyday.

Just this once.

On the left side, those posh windows were flaunting on display, and to the right had little cubicles laid out perfect for providing spacious privacy. You marvel at what a genius idea the store owner had to create such a comforting and unique interior for a café. There was not a thing out of place.

Except of course, the barista.

You head over to where the cubicles were waiting and as you turn into the corner, you almost trip over something that looks like… a foot?

Following the coffee-stained sport shoes, your eyes slowly drift up on its owner, locking on a sleeping figure on the seats of the cubicle.

A young man with a soft aura.

You squint in confusion.

The poor cubicle clearly wasn’t big enough to fit his entire body. His hair seems to have fallen into place like dominos having slightly covering his eyelids, and appears to be breathing in a gentle rhythm with his chest following in sync. Your eyes also end up emphasising his jawline as you continue to stare.

His chest- wait.

A little badge on the right corner of his shirt immediately becomes the salient object.

So, he is the barista.

Barista… Gabin?

You lean closer at the words printed out on it.

No, it’s Ga-vin.

Apart from how attractive he looks, you question yourself- why is the barista sleeping during opening hours?

The man’s eyes slowly crack open, like a shell opening to display the pearl from inside, and you finally see his eyes of beautiful amber squinting back at you. Though, you can’t tell if it was because of the bright lights inside the cafe, or if he was solely observing you- and why you were so close to him at this very moment.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you cry, instantly retracting from your forward-leaning position. Your brain tries to racks up reasons why you two were in this situation incase he asks.

“There was something on your face” or “your foot was in the way” could work. No- “sorry, I’ve never seen another human being before” sounds a lot more believable.

Gavin, the barista, furrows his eyebrows in confusion then seemingly in frustration.

Your body tenses.

It’s coming.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” he sighs softly.

You do another quick scan and take that only the two of you were in the cafe now, unless there was another sleeping barista somewhere else you didn’t notice.

“If you're here for coffee, it’s on the house. An apology for what you saw just now…. Just don’t tell the boss if he’s here,” Gavin lightly coughs.

“Oh okay... Thank you. A latte please,” you say, rather not wanting to question it further. For now. But free coffee made by this gorgeous barista? How could anyone refuse this offer? All you did was stare. In that case, you would gladly do it again.

You settle your belongings on the table and catch Gavin rolling up his sleeves, putting on the display of his toned forearms. Luckily, your cubicle entrance was facing the direction of the workbench allowing yourself to watch him set up.

You start to wish for your coffee to be as hot as him.

Scalding hot.

Gavin steadily handles the jug and effortlessly pours the milk into the latte glass with the espresso already inside. Despite your sight of his expertise, he still can’t hide the subtle droopiness of his eyes and the slight furrow of his eyebrows again.

You figure it would be better if you come up to him instead so he wouldn’t have to travel the whole way to your cubicle with his current state being like this.

You gingerly make your way to his workbench while fumbling for a topic to break the awkward silence in your head.

“Is it just you working here today or…?” you ask.

“Is there another hot sleeping barista I should know about?” you continued in your head.

Gavin hands you the transparent cup accompanied by the saucer, a little spoon, a packet of sugar and a complimentary ginkgo-shaped cookie on the side.

The art displayed formed a symmetrical heart with perfect one centimetre foam to present the perfect latte.

“There’s the chef who’s actually the boss of this place but sometimes he dashes in and out. Especially when there’s no customers as of late. I have no idea where he goes, actually. Right now is no exception,” he replies, sweeping the remains of the coffee grounds into the knock box.

“And you do all the work for him? That doesn’t seem fair. Does he allow you to make your own cup of coffee at least?”

“Well, not exactly. I just work over-time till late. Plus, I think my body is practically immune to caffeine by now,” Gavin laughs.

"Me too," you comment.

As tired as he looks, he still has the energy to light up a smile, even with a stranger. His mouth forms an effortlessly handsome arc and you feel something emerging from within your heart, so subtle that you almost think that you could have mistaken yourself as the protagonist in a romance novel.

Though working overtime till late… at a brunch cafe?

You don’t question him any further. You take a whiff at the single delicate-looking plain ginkgo cookie and have a bite. This moment of peace and serenity was offering the much needed break from all that tension and pressure you were under- apart from Gavin being here, though he didn’t seem to mind your presence.

You lean forward to place your elbows on the counter and stare at the coffee in front, frowning a little at the reality of ruining the beautiful heart. You rip open the sugar and pour in half, then give it a stir with the spoon. The foam is perfectly silky and frothy, fusing with the crema like a starry galaxy.

You remind yourself that "it was okay" because this moment would forever remain in your own heart instead. Delicious, creamy arabica coffee.

Like those ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind that autumn day.

You smile at the memory before multiple begin to overlap with another. Ones where you had passed by the senior classrooms catching a glimpse of a boy staring out of the window or down in a random alleyway on your bicycle.

You didn’t think much of it back then either, but he had always looked familiar and seemed to be everywhere you were too. Crossing paths in hallways and even at the library, reading. That upperclassman boy named-

“-Gavin?”

He looks up.

“From school?”

You wonder why you hadn’t realised.

His facial features are now more defined, sharper, and still a head taller than you. Who would have thought the hot barista was actually an old schoolmate. You put your coffee down and internally scream.

“You remember me?” he softly asks.

“Just a little bit. Wait, do you know who I am?”

“Just a little bit.”

Gavin smiles.

You break eye contact and continue drinking, not wanting the coffee to get cold during this exchange. But even now it tastes different than before.

“So, what brings you here?” he asks.

“Taking a break before I find a job. See if any place will accept me…”

“Of course they will. You’re brilliant at what you do. I have no doubts that you will be successful.”

You smile in response, taking in the last of the remaining coffee.

“How do you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long. And I don’t think we’ve ever interacted this much in the past."

“I just do… Trust me.”

You look back up. His eyes light up with so much sincerity that could power a whole entire city’s electricity.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you say.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You seemed like... you were just so difficult to figure out, especially for people like me who don't know you that well. So I never gave it a second thought either. And now here you are, making my coffee. Anyway, this is probably not making any sense..."

"No, I understand," Gavin states. "In your opinion... what kind of man am I?"

Before you could formulate a proper response, hot heat suddenly finds its way in, corroding with its cooler counterpart and signalling the entrance of another person.

Your eyes catch sight of a tall and handsome man, his aura so dominating that the heat you feel could just be from him instead.

“That’s the boss,” Gavin whispers.

The boss saunters his way in straight towards you two. His black hair matches his suit and tie, making him appear more like a CEO than of a chef.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to the back to restock some things, I’ll be right back,” Gavin says, shooting you a comforting smile.

While trying to process all of this, your eyebrows are the ones to furrow now instead. How could this boss treat an employee like this? Working overtime without proper breaks? This to you was appalling and certainly see this as an act of injustice. Being the good and lawful citizen that you are, you decide to treat this like one.

“Excuse me.”

Before he enters the kitchen, he turns, offering his full attention to you. You thought you had a good grasp on what you wanted to say, but it seems that your head had disconnected from your voice box.

“Your employee…” you begin, “he seems very fatigued. I think you should be sharing the workload equally instead of leaving the cafe. Haven’t you ever heard of a collegial workplace before?”

His eyebrow lifts- in amusement, mockery or consideration, you don’t know. After all, your words carrying the “sense of justice” did sound a lot better in your head.

“I don’t interfere with anyone’s personal lives,” he said, his deep voice shattering your “prosecution”. But before you could have another go at him, he retreats into the kitchen.

Gavin returns with takeaway cups and lids and sees you standing flabbergasted at your interaction with the boss.

“You okay?”

You reply back with a little “humph” at the direction of the kitchen then turn to Gavin restocking the items on the cup warmer of the coffee machine.

"I-it’s nothing."

After all, this was your first and last time here, and maybe you shouldn't have acted so impulsively on a situation like this. Plus, how would Gavin react if you push the topic further?

You sigh. Hopefully the plan to have a drink and catch up with an old friend later in the night will settle the agitation you feel.

A soft ding is heard from your phone reminding you to get ready to leave.

Perfect timing.

As you reluctantly pack your things, you glance at Gavin’s way, who looks like he’s about to end his shift for the day as well.

You don’t want to be supporting a business owner who treats his employees like this, but yet seeing Gavin this way made you feel helpless. It’s a shame that you won’t see another handsome barista like this again. Or see him again. Or probably enter another cafe at all after this.

“I have to go.”

Your voice interrupts his workflow, and he frowns.

“Now?”

“I have somewhere to be, unfortunately.”

Gavin takes a moment to process this.

“Why don’t you wait till I leave? That way, I can see you off. It will only be a minute.”

More like a minute's time to sob about this man who could have been your boyfriend in a parallel universe. But as long as you won’t be late to meet up with your friend, you agree to wait for Gavin to finish up.

You linger by the entrance, not wanting to intrude his workspace again and steer clear from the awkwardness that could arise from watching him up close.

But after that literal minute, he steps outside with you and the heaviness in your heart starting to simmer back up again. The air already seems to have to cooled down, providing a thankful comfort to your surroundings.

Looking at him now, you almost change your mind. You could maybe see him again when you have time in the future. To... catch up.

Just maybe.

“Thank you for today," you say. You remind yourself to not get too attached, having really not know if you would be ready for all of that, especially for what was to come in the future.

You slowly walk backwards into the direction of your home, back where you need to get ready for the night out again.

“Thanks for coming. It was nice meeting you again,” he replies.

As you turn to leave, in your peripheral vision Gavin tracks forward to cover every step you took away from him, pulling a hesitant arm up to say something more.

But by then, you were already turning the corner and out of sight.

-And after all this time, your thoughts keep returning to those moments.

A couple of hours pass and your mind still orbits Gavin and that café. You wonder if there was something more you could have done or said. Hopefully he didn’t mistake your hurried steps for something else.

You soon arrive at the venue that you and your friend unanimously agreed on, though as you tippy-toe your way through the crowd to spot her, it seems that she hasn't arrived at the agreed time yet.

As you wait, you fiddle with the side of your dress. You decided to go with the classy minimalist look- a black dress and simple ginkgo drop earrings you bought recently. You didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, but you were satisfied that you were well-dressed enough to feel glamorous for the night. However, wanting to avoid the additional heat of the weather sticking on your body like a tattoo, you decide to head in first.

The music gradually becomes clearer and definitely louder as you weave your way through the hallway entrance towards the heart of the club, with the lights dimly lit and its walls enclosed for the darkness to rule.

You haven’t been in a place like this for so long, especially when you got used to the quiet and calm environment of libraries, the home, and the café earlier…

You could feel everyone’s body heat from a good healthy distance away, even at the seat of the bar. You don’t plan on getting drunk tonight, but you know your alcohol tolerance is so low that you figure it would be best if you should order a little fruity mocktail first instead then perhaps have a real drink with your friend when she arrives later.

You give a quick text notifying her of your location and place your phone back into your purse, ready to order.

Darkness continues to stir as you struggle to locate the bartender.

What kind of bartender is this person if they’re not at the bar?

Lights rotate and blind its way in every direction. For a fleeting second, it lands on the person across from you, illuminating those unforgettable eyes and smile of its owner.

His eyes are just as wide as yours.

"It's you."

The barista- no, bartender, was Gavin.

[wonderlandmind4]

Omg omg omg cafe crema was such a beautifully written story I loved how you explored Buckys pain alongside with the readers emotions and devotion to her work everything about this was so perfect, you wrote Bucky and readers relationship so well the beginning was so cute with all the spilled coffee encounters and you ended off the story in such a deep and meaningful way thank you for writing this story ❤️❤️

PS this is definelty my new comfort fic so I will be coming back to it many times 😊

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 THANK YOUUUU!!!! 💗💗💗 your message has made my day, and has touched my heart! I’m so happy you loved and enjoyed it!

And comfort fic!? 😭😭😭😘💗 thank you again! I’m glad I was able to write something like that and happy it will give you comfort!

[ardraaah]

for this ask

2,3,4,6,10,14,23,25,30,47,49,53,55,58,59.

adding few :

do you like braids? can i braid your hair?

long walks or long drives?

treehouse or penthouse?

also you look really cute today<3

OH MY GOD KAVU YOU LOOK CUTER

2.is your room messy or clean?

CLEAN always

3.what color are your eyes?

dark dark brown almost black

4.do you like your name? why?

YES CAUSE ITS COOL IDK????

6.describe your personality in three words or less

trustworthy, sarcastic, loyal

10.how would you describe your style?

im all for them oversized stuff. or in my moms words "like a homeless person"

14.if you can live anywhere in this world where would it be? why?

I will pack my backs and go to crema,italy 100% because its so fucking beautiful its so fucking calm and it seems like a place where i would fit in

23.describe your dream date

varies, but an 80s tthemed karaoke night would be so cool

25.what color socks are you wearing?

im sorry but its hot as fuck here so no socks

30.whats your favourite candle scent?

i dont relaly know ive never been a candle person but something flowery not too strong would be cool like rose? or even thyme?

47.what type of house do you live in?

idk about sizes? the size of a normal household not too big not too small i guess

49.what was the last compliment you recieved?

FROM YOU YOU SAID I LOOK CUTE TODAY

53.opinion on smoking

just no. plis dont come near me if you smoke.

55.what is your dream job?

i want to own a cute cafe

58.do you have freckles?

nop i dont

59.do you smile for pictures

yes i always smile for pictures because my resting face is so punchable

kavu q1. do you like braids? can i braid your hair?

yes i love braids and you can absolutely braid my hair if you can manage it that is.

kavu q2. long walks or long drives?

LONG WALKS IM A SUCKER FOR LONG WALKS

kavu q3. treehouse or penthouse?

treehouse i think?

THAT IS IT YES THANKOYU MY LOVE THHANKYOU I LOVE YOU DrINCC WOTAH BYE

[sandersstudies]

Espresso-ly for You - Chapter Two

I liiiiiive! Or at least, my writing does. Like I said, I can’t and won’t promise regular updates on this one, but the sweet sweet coffeeshop AU will never let me go for sure.

Chapter One Here 

***

“Hey there, long time no see!” Janus said over the top of his mug. It was the one he brought from home, with a snake for a handle. 

“I saw you on Sunday,” Virgil said, slouching his backpack off his shoulder to store in the employee cupboard. 

“Yeah, but so much has happened since then,” Janus said, and then sipped his drink loudly. “Did Logan tell you about the birds that were fighting outside on Tuesday?”

“No.”

“See, of course he didn’t, he doesn’t care about the fun stuff. God, you look exhausted, let me get you a pick-me-up, you raccoon.” He began to measure a shot of espresso.

“I’ve already been drinking way too much soda to stay awake,” Virgil said.

“I’m not giving you soda, am I?” Janus asked, turning on the steam wand. “I’m giving you sweet bean juice, it will give you things no other drink can.” The shots pulling from the espresso machine dripped like warm honey, and Virgil had to admit they looked enticing. Janus was the most skilled barista in the cafe, going to local barista competitions three years in a row, and making it to the final round the last two years. 

“One of the benefits of working here is all the free coffee you want,” Janus said. “Might as well take advantage of it.” He’d barely looked at the machine while preparing the milk and espresso, but now, with a few seconds of intense focus, he guided his pitcher across the surface of the crema to create a delicate rosetta. “There, my nicest flat white of the day, all for you.”

Virgil took the cup and sipped. Perfect, creamy foam. 

Janus picked up his own cup and slurped the last of the coffee inside. “Well, better prepare for the lunchtime rush,” he said, checking his watch. “How was it yesterday?”

“Not too bad.”

“If you want to run register and food the first hour, I’ll run bar and then we can switch,” Janus said, reaching behind himself to tighten his apron strings. “If it slows down I’ll do a restock but I think we should be fine.”

Janus had been the first barista to push Virgil to run the espresso machine solo. When the morning or lunch rush came and there was a line out the door, Janus would watch and speak encouragingly, but never step in to rescue him the way Logan did.

“See these two cups?” Janus had said one day when Virgil could barely hold a milk pitcher without shaking. “These two drinks are the only ones you need to worry about right now. All those other drinks, all those other people, they don’t exist to you. It doesn’t matter if there are three drinks or thirty drinks waiting, you’re always working on these two drinks, and two drinks only.”

Eventually Virgil learned how to fall into a rhythm where he prepped one shot as another one pulled, poured one milk as another one steamed. Janus would flit back and forth from the register to the hand-off, confidently ringing in and handing out drinks as Virgil’s hands shook too hard to stop cups from spilling.

“You don’t need me,” Janus had said. “Someday you’re gonna be stuck up to your elbows in cappuccinos and I’m not going to be here, and you’ll have to haul them out of yourself. If I rescue you now, you won’t be able to do it then.”

Virgil had burned with frustration that Janus wouldn’t help him. But when the line dwindled, Virgil found himself reaching for the next cup in line, and it wasn’t there. He’d done it, he’d seen only two drinks in front of him and had conquered a breakfast rush. The customers had become a blur, and he’d honed in on more lattes and macchiatos than he could count.

“The next challenge,” Janus had said as they shared coffee in the following lull. “Is to bring the customers into focus too. Two things matter in coffeeshops, the coffee, and the people. You can’t let either one distract from the other.”

“You want me to do all that and small talk?”

“It gets easier with time.”

The retrospect that proved Janus right didn’t help Virgil to not feel aghast at the suggestion. It was easy to envy Janus’ ease around customers, asking Wendy how her radishes were doing as he poured her coffee, telling jokes to kids, and showing them the swan he’d drawn in their father’s latte. 

Virgil tied his apron and went to the front register. He ran his fingers over the screen. Pretending to type up a long order was his key both to eavesdropping and to looking busy, especially if he furrowed his brow just enough to look focused. Whenever a particularly angry customer started to complain at the other end of the counter, here Virgil would be, tapping like he was crafting a novel and not hitting the button for “doppio” a dozen times in a row. Meanwhile Janus, usually, would be the one at the end, silver-tongued and composed, listening with raised eyebrows and a soft smile. He’d turn around only when the cafe was empty to say “could you believe that jerk?”

A gaggle of college girls in matching volleyball t-shirts approached, and Virgil glanced at Janus, who cracked his knuckles dramatically. “May the coffee gods guide me,” he said as the bell on the door jangled merrily. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

“Large iced vanilla soy latte.”

“Medium blended caramel coffee, extra caramel, whipped cream.”

“Small almond latte.”

And so on down the line. Janus remained unfazed, continuing to greet other customers who braved entering the store despite the line. He called out every drink he made and made eye contact with each girl who picked hers up, even (Virgil thought he saw) winking a couple times. The hum of the espresso machine and hiss of the steam wand filled the cafe, singing along to the piano playing over the speakers. Was this Logan’s playlist?

The line didn’t end, after that. The girls cleared and were replaced by tides of office workers in pressed clothes from the smattering of office buildings that hemmed in the coffee shop on all sides. Friendly receptionists and personal assistants were a favorite of Virgil’s, and were perhaps the only ones who called him by endearments that didn’t feel horribly awkward.  Most of them tipped well. 

The cafe chairs filled up, representing casual business talks, friendly meet-ups, and solitary breaks from long days. All the grind-never-stop types had the coffee to-go, and those taking a quick respite adored the cafe’s “for here” cups. Virgil liked to watch for the people who perked up or relaxed with their first sip. One of the personal assistants from the building across the street (Virgil thought her name was Jackie) put her cappuccino to her lips and leaned back into her chair, the tension around her eyes softening.

A moment came where a couple of middle-aged women paused to examine the menu, and Janus appeared as if by magic at the register. 

“Tag team, let’s go! Your turn on the bar, kid.” 

Virgil moved to the espresso machine. Janus had not only finished the drinks in front of him, but wiped down the counter and machine to leave Virgil the perfect surface to begin again. The middle-aged women put in their orders, and Virgil felt like his vision zoomed in as he began the two drinks in front of him, and the two after that, and the two-

He was getting better at this now, even managed a croaked “hello,” to most of the customers who walked in the door, and a “thank you” as they took their drinks. He let the steam wand run a few extra seconds to feel the warmth bead on his face every time he started to get anxious. 

The lunch rush came to its merciful end, and Virgil took his break to chew a PB&J sandwich before Janus left for the day. As the clock hit two, the elder barista pulled his keys from the cupboard.

“I bid you adieu and an easy close,” he said, twirling his keychain around his hand as he clocked out. The jingle of his keys was followed by the jangle of the door behind him, and Virgil was alone in the cafe.

He brewed fresh coffee - they’d almost run out during the rush, and pause to sweep the floors and wipe down the counters. Running the store for the last three hours before close, and the chance to close the store by himself was both a responsibility and a chance for peace that Virgil appreciated. He liked helping customers, more spread out then before, and in between them finding little things to clean, extra minutes to practice his latte art - damn, how could Janus draw a rosetta so effortlessly? All Virgil’s came out looking like lumps. 

He aerated the milk gently, and heard the front bell ting.

“Hey there,” Virgil said without looking up, tilting his pitcher so the foam was perfectly incorporated. He turned the steam wand off and gently groomed the milk to pour. “Sorry, I’ll be right with you.” 

The milk texture was almost perfect. He guided his pitcher over the crema and… produced a haphazard rosetta. It was lopsided and a little mangled from Virgil swirling the crema too hard, but it wasn’t one of his worst attempts.

“Hey, that looks pretty good!” 

Virgil looked up and felt his ears get hot. Roman was leaning slightly over the bar (oh wow, he was even taller than Virgil had thought), staring at the cup. “Could you do one like that for me?”

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah uh… yeah, sure.” Nevermind that it was much harder to make oat milk froth properly. Virgil grabbed his non-dairy pitcher.

“Oh, could you make it as an large cinnamon-”

“Yeah, I got it.” Oh no, I cut him off. In too deep now. Virgil felt Roman’s gaze on him as he made the latte. The cinnamon-sugar topping made a nice base to draw with, but Virgil didn’t have as much experience with oat and soy, and the rosetta was barely visible as he finished it. Roman stared into the cup.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “Still practicing.” 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Roman said, but sounded a bit disappointed. He left a ten on the counter. “Thanks for trying, the extra’s for you.” 

He left the cafe, and Virgil watched him vanish down the street, but just before he was out of sight, he put the to-go cup to his lips, and Virgil saw his shoulders relax.

[e-uph0r1a]

Flat white, Jasmine Tea 💜

heeey thanks for sending me these <3

Flat White : Coffee or Tea? coffee, i don't like tea at all or if i drink it, it has to be with milk

Jasmine Tea : If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? South Korea, England, Italy and Slovenia. South Korea, places like Jeju Island, Seoul and Busan. They look like beutiful places, i want to visit temples, art museums and try new foods. England because im a big simp for british things such as music and films. Italy because it just seems so beautiful, also call me by your name made me want to go to Crema so bad. And Slovenia because i'm descendant, one of my aunts lives in Liubliana and i want to visit the places where my grandparents grew up.

Cafe Asks ☕️

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hi can you send me some loves, i’m having a really bad day today, it’s more like a bad month but your blog helps me to distract my situation in real life ♡ thank you

I’m very sorry you’re having a bad day. You’re definitely not alone. Any of these beauties will brighten your day. Enjoy!  ~Lynne

Remarkability by aelora

Kurt is the remarkable boy that Blaine has been looking for forever.

~~~~~

Lost With You by  Stuckontheground

When Kurt Hummel goes to Paris over the summer as a graduation gift, he’s afraid that he’s going to be all alone in the City of Love. Little does he know, a chance meeting in a cafe will change his life forever.

~~~~~

Where There’s Smoke by stoney  [also on LJ]

Fireman AU, set 7 years after graduation. Kurt is Kurt, except that he never met Blaine Anderson. Blaine grew up in Brooklyn with his mother and firefighter father. Rachel and Kurt have graduated NYADA, Kurt gained a Masters from Tisch, and now they’re in their first post-college apartment together ready to tackle their dreams. Unfortunately, Rachel never learned how to properly cook and almost sets their new house on fire. Enter Dreamy McFirepants.

~~~~~

Crema verse by @twobirdsonesong

Kurt’s just landed a job at Vogue as Carrie Bradshaw’s assistant. One of his tasks is to bring her coffee in the morning.  Enter Blaine, the barista.  This is the story of how they change each other’s lives.

~~~~~

Domus Civita by @jayhawk-writes

While on vacation to a city he’s never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?”

~~~~~

When The Time Is Right by lostinfictionalworlds

Kurt is 25, successful, handsome and sought after by all, but still looking for more, Bar Owner Blaine 10 years his senior is on the exact same journey of looking for love and life. A/U

~~~~~

You’d Tear This Canvas Skin Apart by SirenVoice11

Blaine is at last embracing his second love - art. What he doesn’t expect is for the living statue of David to walk into his art class in nothing but a silk robe…

[dashboardcat]

I Try One of Everything at Salt City Market (Part 2)

Remember like 3 weeks ago when I did a write-up of a food hall in my hometown, guaranteed to attract the attention of like, 2 people?  Well, it’s time for more of that! 

Attempt #1

While there wasn’t a line outside this time, the market itself seemed just as busy as it was the day after the grand opening.  I also tried to make a point to take in more of the decor, but I don’t think I really have anything new to add other than the fact that I watched not one but two people struggle to stuff the big paper bags their food came in into the trendy, tiny-opening trash cans.  More importantly, I forgot that like, half of the stands are closed on Mondays, meaning I would have to come back another time to finish my quest. 

ERMA’S ISLAND- Jerk Pork (half portion)- $10

I want to say right off the bat that of all the things I’ve tried from this market, this was hands down the best smelling.  And thankfully, the pork pretty much tasted as good as it smelled.  It was tender and juicy, and the sauce was complex, with a good amount of heat that didn’t overpower the other flavors.  The rice and beans that it came with, on the other hand, was a little bland, but that’s nothing that mixing the sauce into can’t fix.  

Unfortunately, I can never show my face there again, because when the cashier asked me if I wanted the half or whole portion, I said “Yeah,” and made her repeat herself like 3 times.

MAMMA HAI- “Marco Polo” Banh Mi- $10

Yes, that’s pepperoni on a banh mi.

The roll was nice and crusty, and to be honest, that’s like 90% of what makes a good sandwich for me.  Unfortunately, the pickled veggies and cilantro (and this blog is pro-cilantro, get over yourselves, haters) sort of overpowered the pepperoni and the char siu pork, which is a shame because I wanted that pepperoni to shine.  If this was a $5 banh mi, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, but at $10 I would have liked a little more meat, or at least for the already existing meat to make its presence felt.  The pate and mayo kinda also get lost, but do present a bit of richness in about every other bite (and, for another controversial sandwich opinion, I don’t necessarily think that every bite of a sandwich has to have an even distribution of everything, otherwise the flavors sort of just blur together after a while).  Overall, it’s a fairly decent sandwich, but left me longing for something more.  They also have a curry chicken banh mi, maybe that one has a better balance of flavor.

CAKE BAR- Locus Cake- $6.50

One thing about Cake Bar that isn’t made apparent by looking at their stand is that, according to their website, it’s meant to resemble a Vietnamese cafe.  In hindsight, this kinda explains the wide variety of specialty teas (specialteas, if you will) they also had available.

The chocolate cake was moist and had little crispy bits running throughout it.  At first, I thought it was eggshells, because I’m an idiot and always assume the worst.  After picking out an especially large chunk, I realized it was broken up bits of Biscoff cookies! (Further research has shown me that the parent company that makes Biscoff cookies is called Locus, thus, y’know, the name of the cake.  Probably should have put that together sooner, it literally says “Locus” on the cookie, one of which was lodged into the top of the cake.)  The buttercream was surprisingly light, and the caramel on top had the perfect consistency, gooey enough to stay put but not so gooey that it turned into a stringy mess after running your fork through it.  The only negative thing I really have to say about the all-around experience was that the box they used made it kind of difficult to get the slice out of it (as you can see, I ended up just tearing the sides up).

Attempt #2 

Since the market is relatively close to my work, I figured I would drop by after work one day to bang out the rest of the list.

BAGHDAD RESTAURANT- Beef Shawarma- $6.99

At first, I laughed to myself upon seeing it in one of those gas station sub bags.  The laughing faded pretty quickly, though, upon seeing it was, in fact served on a sub roll. I'm not a shawarma expert. maybe that can be an acceptable way to eat it? The beef was well spiced and that perfect sweet spot between tender and still having something to sink your teeth into.  Unfortunately, that’s more or less where my compliments end.  What little sauce the menu promised (just called “sauce,” don’t ask me what it is) has soaked into the bread and completely disappeared, making the whole thing somewhat dry and lackluster.  Also, they didn’t cut it, which was fine with the heartier banh mi’s baguette but with the softer sub roll didn’t have the structural integrity to be picked up whole without a struggle.  My biggest gripe with it is mostly on me, though, as the juice from the pickles tainted most of it with pickle stank, which could have been avoided entirely if I had just ordered it without.  

SOULUTIONS- Mustard and Berbere Fried Chicken ($6) and FIRE MAC ($4)

(Note- the $6 order of chicken comes with 2 of these chicken cutlets, but I carelessly ate one before taking the picture.)

I do want to clear the air here and say that yes, I did accidentally order fried chicken and mac and cheese from both of the soul food places.  I was originally going to get the burger, at my friend’s recommendation, but the menu board by the register suspiciously didn’t have the burger on it, so I panicked and ordered the fried chicken again.  

While the breading was stained yellow from mustard, the honey mustard taste was very subtle.  I also have to admit to not knowing off the top of my head what berbere (I had to google it, it’s an Ethiopian spice blend) tastes like, so i can't tell you if this tasted like that.  But, despite not being especially strong in either of the namesake seasonings, it definitely is a flavorful piece of chicken nonetheless.  Flavors work that way sometimes.

The Fire Mac may not have delivered as strongly on cheese as I may have liked, but it definitely did deliver on the fire, drizzled with a tangy buffalo-esque sauce.  And Topped with crumbled bits of fried chicken skins? Can’t go wrong with that.

JUICE AND FLOWERS- “Root | 12” Juice- $8

Misleading name, I didn’t see any flowers anywhere.  Zero stars. 

The beet and lemon were the most pronounced of the flavors, with the ginger lingering on the palate and, unsurprisingly, the apple and carrot mostly being there to round the whole thing out.  The employee that waited on me was very passionate and knowledgeable about the juice, informing me that 2 pounds of produce had gone into this little bottle, and that it’d have a shelf life of 3-5 days.  Which is good, because I put it back in the fridge after I got home to chill it back down, and then proceeded to forget about it for 3 days.  It’s also a very thick and hearty juice, so it doesn’t feel that weird to only want to drink half a bottle in one sitting and, y’know, make this $8 bottle of juice last a little longer. 

Attempt #3

Knowing fully well that I was going to have a long night shift ahead of me, I decided to check out the Coffee Bar side of the market for what would be my third trip over the course of 5 days.  I feel like I should also point out that the Coffee Bar, as its name literally breaks down as, serves coffee during the day and a full bar at night.  I also noticed during this visit that the Coffee Bar has a patio seating area under construction, cheesy string lights and all, that I am looking forward to.

Fruity Pebbles Latte- $6

Against my best judgement, I got it “for here” for the sake of the pic, even though a.) I had to break my rule of not eating in places because this fucking pandemic isn’t over yet and b.) I was nervous about being late for work the whole time (I did, in fact, get there on time).  As I waited, I could see their secret recipe fruity pebbles milk sitting on the counter.  It was, in fact, fruity pebbles and milk.  

I didn’t really think the Fruity Pebbles would work with the espresso, having had been burned before by places that just dump them onto things with no regard of the flavor profile just for the sake of the burst of color.  But, somehow… it did work.  Maybe it’s because cereal milk is never quite as strong as some might hope, but the subtle fruitiness of the milk played well with the chocolatey notes in the espresso.  The espresso itself probably also had the best crema on it that I’ve ever seen on a latte (and yes, I had to google the pretentious espresso-snob term for the foam that floats to the top).

Also shoutout to the pour over, which on their menu board is priced at "4-ish"

I’m so glad I’m living with my parents again at the moment.  Otherwise, this whole thing would’ve been like, a month’s worth of my food budget.

[mystudydiary-blog]

17 questions, 17 people

Thanks for tagging me,  @claude-y and @sleepycsstudent! 

Nickname: Lorna Bliss (google her, pls dont ask me why)

Zodiac: leo

Height: 1m63

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Last thing I googled: crema catalana

Song stuck in my head: Barfuß am Klavier - AnnenMayKantereit

Number of followers: 106

Amount of sleep: about 8 hours (i need 9 to function tho)

Lucky number: 3

Dream job: in an alternative reality i would like to open a bakery, in this reality i want to work for the tax administration (lmao i’m so boring but it’s really interesting tbh)

Wearing: hard rock cafe hoodie and pyjama pants with little christmassy reindeer

Favorite song: Don’t let the sun go down on me - Elton John 

Favorite instrument: idk i don’t really have one

Aesthetic: chaos?

Favorite author: i don’t have one now but when i was younger Dirk Bracke was my favorite. I should read some of his newer books tbh

Favorite animal sounds: when one of my cats is sleeping and i pet her she goes like brrrr (this makes no sense im sorry)

Random: i’m looking forward to eating crema catalana this evening 

I don’t know who to tag but if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged by me :)