#i just had hazelnut cinnamon coffee

[vertejay]

Washer broke yesterday, so now I have to pack a basket for the laundromat, this is tragic my washer was so spacious I’m crying. I could be getting ready to go out but I have to sort this out first. 💔

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shift mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[pininghermit]

Shattered Armor

Request: @mairablue Hi 💞 Are you still taking requests for spin the wheel event about Adrian? I got the prompt, "He fell first". Can you please write a story with the prompt? Thank you!

AN: Hi friend, thanks for requesting! Please do excuse my own inner angst for this one but this was so cathartic to write.

Genre: He fell first

Pairing(s): Adrian Tepes x female Reader

Summary:Long ago Adrian had walked away from your world. World that never slept. Run by meetings, contracts, profits, grind. Adrian had left it for his mother’s cafe. To the world that smelled of roasted coffee and Mediterranean sandwiches. A glimpse of himself is perhaps what attracts him to you. Like a moth to flame, his heart follows.

Adrian remembers your coffee order as if it were etched into his mind.

Grande, half-decaf, oat milk latte with two pumps of hazelnut, one pump of vanilla, extra foam, and a light sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Exactly 135 degrees.

It was etched there from the first time you walked into his cafe. Typing away on your phone, a Bluetooth headset snug in your ear, you barely glanced at him as you rattled off your intricate order.

You had the air of someone important, busy, and detached. A person who lived in a world that never stopped spinning. Adrian had immediately dubbed you a corporate asshole in his mind.

That’s what he thought as he made your coffee the first time.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at your request, even as he worked to make it perfect. But when you tipped fifty dollars with a casual shrug and moved on without looking back, Adrian had to pause.

Who was he to judge?

When he brought the coffee to your table, he’d planned to offer you a free muffin as a gesture of goodwill after that mountainous tip. But as he approached, his words faltered.

Gone was the polished, confident figure in an expensive suit who had walked in just moments earlier. Instead, you looked small, as though the weight of the world had folded you in on yourself.

You were slumped back in your chair, staring blankly out the window. The person who’d walked in moments before had vanished, replaced by someone far more vulnerable.

Your shoulders were hunched, your hands limp in your lap, and your eyes, distant and red-rimmed, spoke of a weariness that felt all too familiar.

Adrian had frozen, caught off guard by the rawness of your expression.

He knew that look.

It was the same one he used to see in the reflection of office windows late at night. Back when his days were filled with meetings, contracts, and expectations. Back when the weight of his father’s company pressed down on his chest, even in the rare moments of stillness.

World was harsh to all. But it made itself harsher for women. It forged the might of iron to shape them into the form that it deemed acceptable.   

Long ago Adrian had walked away from your world. World that never slept. Run by meetings, contracts, profits, grind. Adrian had left it for his mother’s cafe. To the world that smelled of roasted coffee and Mediterranean sandwiches. A glimpse of himself is perhaps what attracts him to you. Like a moth to flame, his heart follows.

Without a word, Adrian swapped the muffin for a sandwich. Sugar wouldn’t help someone who looked like they were barely holding it together. He set the plate down quietly, careful not to disturb you, and slipped away before you could respond.

Yet he saw it, the way you glanced down at the sandwich, brows furrowed in confusion, before hesitantly picking it up. Your movements were slow, deliberate, like someone unaccustomed to acts of care. Adrian had watched from a distance as you chewed, your expression softening ever so slightly.

You come during the quiet hours now, always slipping in like you’re sneaking moments away from something relentless. Adrian watches as you sit by the window, eyes tracing the slow crawl of traffic. He notices the way your shoulders loosen as the minutes pass, how the tension drains from your body in the comfort of the cafe’s stillness.

He doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he keeps leaving sandwiches by your coffee. Most of the time, you don’t finish them. He often finds the leftovers in the bin or in your hands as you leave, your fingers brushing crumbs from your lap.

Adrian doesn’t know why you linger in his mind. Maybe it’s the reflection of himself he sees in you, the person he once was, drowning in a world that demanded too much. Maybe it’s the quiet grief that clings to you, invisible to everyone else but glaring to him.

What he does know is that every time you walk out the door, holding a sandwich you’ll probably forget to eat, something inside him twists in ways he thought he’d left behind.

And so he keeps watching, keeps waiting. Because in the stillness of the café, he’s found something he never expected: a tie to someone who reminds him of what it’s like to need saving.

Patrick Len sent a meeting invite.

The notification flashes on your phone just as you’re about to place your usual order. The familiar chime of the Slack app makes your stomach turn, and for a fleeting moment, you imagine hurling the damned device off Mount Everest.

You suppress a groan, the simmering frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You’d just told Patrick about your lunch break, a rare and sacred 30 minutes of freedom. Yet here you are again, accepting the last-minute invite with the same resigned flick of your thumb.

As you place your order without even looking up, your mind replays the mechanics of your daily grind. The way your gaze always seems glued to your phone, your head perpetually bowed as if in servitude to the towering skyscrapers of the corporate hub that looms over your life. Every day, they press down on you, making it harder to breathe.

This time, you put your phone on silent with a little more force than usual, slamming it onto the table and fighting back the prickling sensation behind your eyes. You will not cry. Not until the handsome barista brings your coffee, at least.

By now, Adrian has probably witnessed a dozen of your near-breakdowns. Would one more really be that surprising?

There’s something about this cafe, though something that makes it impossible to hold back the cracks in your armor. It’s far enough from the looming heights of your office, just a 15-minute drive that feels like a lifetime away. Here, you don’t have to sit under the shadow of your desk, with its endless agenda waiting to devour your soul.

Here, you can breathe, if only for a moment.

You glance out the window at children skipping home from school, their laughter floating into the street. Middle-aged women huddle together, their grocery bags heavy but their conversations light. Dogs prance by with their owners, tails wagging, paws pattering. And then there’s Adrian, the barista who brings you the best sandwiches you’ve ever had, always with a smile that feels unearned.

In this tiny pocket of the world, no one is watching for your cracks. No one is calculating the sincerity of your smile or judging the perfect precision of your project briefs.

It’s liberating and miserable all at once. Liberating to step away from the chaos, but miserable to know how fleeting it is, how high the price is for chasing your so-called dream.

A silly dream, stubborn and relentless, the kind you can’t quite let go of no matter how much it costs you.

This cafe has become your refuge, the only place you allow yourself to slip from the relentless mold of perfection. A place where you let the cracks widen, if only a little, as you sit and let the world drift by.

Yet, this cafe is where you dare to let go of your shattered armor. And allow your nurse Joy (yes Pokemon Go had some great gems here) to allow you some healing with the most amazing hummus dressings.   

The $50 tips? Excessive, even by your standards. But you leave them anyway, for Adrian. For the barista whose eyes follow you with a softness you can’t quite understand, like a puppy waiting for a reason to stay close.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you keep coming back.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 1: Baking Cookies

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Baking Cookies (🌼)

Summary: You convince Matt to bake cookies with you, and it’s a rather… domestic scene.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. That’s it. That’s the post.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: Day 1 of Fictober and we’re starting with something sweet! The -ber months always get me in the mood for cookies, especially chai tea or matcha cookies, so that’s what inspired me. Who wouldn’t want to bake cookies with Matt on a cold and rainy day? I know I would. If you want to be tagged for all fics of this event, let me know. Other than that, I am using my respective fluff and smut tag lists that I use for just about everything I write. But if you want to be tagged for both and aren't already on my tag list, feel free to tell me in the comments! Now, I’m so happy we all get to do another October together, and I can’t wait for you to see what I’ve got cooking for you! May you all come out of this sufficiently satisfied.

Read Me On AO3!

The streets of New York are bathed in a disarray of colors as dead leaves continue to fall off the half-green trees. Before you knew it, summer had slipped away into a moment in time. The heatwave that had terrorized the city turned colder with the end of September, and then suddenly, October was knocking on your door. 

You watch the rain trickle down the kitchen windows. The air smells of roasted cinnamon and coffee beans. The billboard outside shines brighter than the afternoon sun stuck behind a sky of gray, throwing a blanket of dark purple over the apartment, and the radio has been playing the same Beach House song on repeat for the past hour. But as you look over at the love of your life, his rough fingers delicately dancing over the label on the sugar jar to figure out what’s inside, there is no doubt in your mind that this is where you belong.

Matt is wearing the maroon sweater you knitted for him last Christmas. Once the seasons start changing, he pulls it out of the closet like he couldn’t wait to wear it again. Your hands crafted something for him to wear so he wouldn’t have to suffer through the cold anymore; there are not enough words in the English language to describe how much that means to him, but you know. You always know.

He looks almost content, standing there with his hair tousled, glasses discarded somewhere in the living room, and a faint smile on his lips. His brown eyes are so soft they remind you of the hazelnut coffee you shared before you suggested, “You want to bake some cookies?”

Much to your surprise, Matt didn’t argue. You expected him to tell you that it’s not Christmas yet, and you were prepared to tell him that cookies don’t need a specific season to be baked. But his face lit up as soon as the words had left your mouth, and he was more than eager to spend the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen with you. 

“How much sugar do we need?” he asks. 

You look down at the handwritten chai cookie recipe he picked out. “Uh, half a cup,” you say. 

He nods, eyebrows furrowing in utmost concentration as his hands feel around the countertop for the measuring cups. You gently place your hand over yours and guide it to the cold plastic. 

His smile widens. “Thank you.”

You look at him like he’s the only man in the world, and to you, he is. It’s not often the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen lets someone into his heart, you learned, but you only fell harder for him when he finally did. He’s beautiful and not at all perfect, but he is all you want.

“Sugar?” Matt snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Right,” you murmur. “Half a cup.”

He can probably hear your heart racing, hammering against your ribcage. You guide your joined hands into the sugar, filling it only half before moving over to the bowl with the other dry ingredients. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even comment on how flustered you are, he just holds on tightly to your hands as though he is afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t. 

It is a different kind of intimacy that’s almost sensual, bodies brushing as you get a whisk to mix it all together, your hand over his and the rain pattering against the window in tune with the radio. 

The cinnamon and the chai tea mix with the faint note of Matt’s cologne on your body, on his shirt, and the scent is unlike anything you could possibly describe. You find yourself leaning closer, impossibly closer, barely stirring anymore. He’s home. He’s your home. 

“Is this part of the recipe?” Matt murmurs. 

You hum. “This step is called stirring the batter.”

He smiles against your temple. “Mh. I like this step.”

“Me too.”

One of his hands slips from yours and comes to rest around your waist, swaying you to the music. You wouldn’t dare break this magic.

“Is there a step called ‘Kiss my future Mrs. Murdock’?” he asks then.

Blood rushes to your head. You’re so fucking happy. A giggle slips past your lips. “I think that’s the next step,” you say. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He bridges the gap between you like a man starved, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that knocks the air right out of your fragile lungs. His hand tugs you just a little closer. You belong to me, the action screams. And while you would never allow yourself to be considered someone’s property, it is nice to be wanted. To be needed. To be desired like you are the only thing on his mind, and treated right. Because you deserve it.

After a moment, he pulls away. His unfocused eyes roam your face, but you know he is only listening to your heartbeat, smelling you, feeling you—that’s how he sees you. 

“What’s next?” he asks softly. 

You peek down at the batter, then look back at him. Your mind is still reeling from the kiss, but you manage to pull yourself together enough to say, “Wet ingredients.”

“Oh?”

“Not like that, you pervert!” 

Matt chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it.” You swat his chest. “I wanted to bake cookies, so let’s bake some damn cookies.”

If you don’t pull away now, you’re sure you won’t get anywhere tonight. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” he teases. 

You nod. “That’s what we’re doing.”

He takes whatever you give him, and does whatever you tell him to until the cookies are finally in the oven. He doesn’t waste another second before pulling you back into his arms.

“Hi,” he says. 

You smile back at him. “Hi to you, too.”

“You forgot this…” You watch as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a ring—your ring.

It was only natural for him to ask you to marry him. He’d been waiting an eternity to do so. No one knows him like you do. No one sees him like you do, and no one loves him quite like you. You’ve seen him at his best and his worst, and you love him not despite but regardless of all of his demons. He doesn’t know what he did to ever deserve you. Quite frankly, he’s not sure he will ever be worthy, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Matt had gotten so used to people walking out on him before you came along that he truly believed he was beyond redemption. Beyond saving. But then you tore open the manifest of his soul, read all the pages, and you gave him your heart anyway. He has not let a day go by where he hasn’t at least tried to do right by you. To take care of you. To love you. To carry you in his very hands like the fucking ethereal being that you are. He’s so scared of losing you, he sometimes loses sight of what he wants just to make you happy, but it’s worth seeing the smile on your face when he brings you flowers he thinks smell like you, or when he gets dinner from your favorite restaurant to surprise you after a long day at work. 

Matt’s only purpose in life is to make you happy because he knows you give him the world in return, a kind of love he never thought he would get to experience. It’s unconditional, it’s deep, and at times, it hurts, but he’s learning what it is like to appreciate the life he was given.

He would steal the stars for you if you wanted them. He would die for you, and sometimes he thinks he might even kill for you. Break all of his rules just to make sure you stay unharmed. He would go up against God, even, if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer. He would not survive losing you, and sometimes, that scares him.

It has been a long road for him, and at times it felt like he was carrying a wooden cross on his back like Jesus did, but all the suffering eventually led to a sense of peace. He learned how to love again—to love you. After Elektra, after putting Fisk away, after everything, he allowed himself to settle down. And he knew shortly after he met you that he was going to marry you. 

You wrap your hand around the ring in his hand, and he gasps softly as he returns to reality. “Didn’t want it to get dirty,” you whisper. 

Matt slips it on your finger, and it feels again like the first time he did it. “I know. I kept it safe for you,” he says. A pause, and then, “I love you… Mrs. Murdock.”

He will never tire of saying it. Not even when you’re old and gray and you can’t remember where you put your godforsaken glasses. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you, Mr. Murdock. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

The honesty in your voice overwhelms him. “You mean that?” 

“With all my heart,” you promise.

The words take a second to seep in, to withstand the doubts that are always raging inside of him, but then he pulls you in, and he kisses you again. He kisses you like his life depends on it, the delicious smell of chai tea cookies filling the air, and it’s the safest you know you are ever going to be—here, with him, and in his arms. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes

[softcursechoso]

Somewhere, We Do: Ch. 1

JJK x Reader

Nanami x Reader

Masterlist

MDNI! // 18+ //NO SPOILERS ARE OFF LIMITS!

Ch. 1 Warnings: None

Summary: Drowning in the monotony of corporate life, you and Nanami both find yourselves at the end of your ropes—exhausted, overworked, and utterly disillusioned. The world of deadlines and fluorescent office lights has drained you both, but fate has other plans. In each other, you find solace, understanding, and a passion neither of you expected. But in a world where duty always comes first, can love this intense truly last?

Words: 3.5k+

HAZELNUT ESPRESSO

Shinjuku : 1:30pm : The Flour Garden

“If I have to remake one more goddamn Iced Honey Lavender Matcha with oat milk, two pumps of vanilla, one pump of caramel, light ice, and a dusting of cinnamon I’m gonna lose my shit!” The voice of a very impatient barista cut through the crowd like a knife. 

The Flour Garden is where you were. A modern jungle of caffeine fueled chaos was clearly on the menu today. It was nestled in the heart of Shinjuku. The cafe was an architectural fusion of industrial minimalism and warm organic textures. There were polished concrete floors, matte black steel framing that ran down the glass windows and let in the hazy midday winter sunlight.

Hanging ferns and pothos cascaded from geometric planters, and was a nice counter to the contrasting monochrome furniture. It was a nicely decorated spot when it wasn’t packed practically shoulder to shoulder.

Every table was filled, and every booth occupied. The sheer volume of conversation created an ever-present buzz that crackled with frustration- which is what probably ticked off the barista. But shit, it was lunch time in one of Tokyo’s busiest districts.

Maybe the frustration was getting to you too. “Tch, be a little more unprofessional for those in the back, lady.” You mumbled under your breath, “Is it too much to ask for a black coffee and a damn donut? The hell are these people ordering?” 

A low grunt of agreement rumbled behind you, “Tell me about it.”

The line inched forward at a snail’s pace. No, worse than a snail’s pace. Was time reversing? 

You crossed your arms over your chest, “The cafe up the street has food twice as good with half the attitude.” 

The stranger behind you spoke again, a tinge of irritation behind it. “I have to be back to work in thirty minutes.”

You laughed, exhausted, from the relatability. “Same, and it’s so dumb. I spend half my break walking to this shitty cafe, just to stand in line for ten minutes. I sprint back to work, and attempt to scarf it down in five. How the hell does an hour lunch turn into five minutes?” 

Ughhh, you were pulling your hair out… well, not actually. The swoop bun was quite sleek today. Couldn’t mess that up. 

“That’s a desk job for you.” The person sighed.

The words were a little too close to home. Who were you talking to? 

You finally turned around, and when you did, you stalled… like completely. The man behind you was tall, broad, and absolutely miserable looking. Somewhere between wanting to wither away and wanting to beat everyone's ass in this godforsaken cafe. 

His blonde hair was neatly parted to the side, and you couldn’t really see from this angle, but it kind of looked like he had a bit of a fade going on in the back perhaps? Maybe a little undercut or something? He was very handsome, and his features were sharp. Kento Nanami.

He radiated exhaustion and the kind of stoic indifference that only came from years of corporate suffering. You knew it all too well. 

“Tell me about it.” You laughed slightly nervous over knowing who you were talking to now. “Where are they overworking you at? Cause listen, I-”

Before you could finish talking, something slammed down hard on your foot. Your right black pump was scuffed. Why?

“Ow!” You reeled back.

A man had stepped in front of you, cutting in line. His heavy boot stepped on your foot in the process. 

You stare at the man with knitted eyebrows, just baffled at this shit. “Um, excuse you?”

“Excuse you.” He snaps back at you with unwarranted sarcasm. 

You gesture behind you at the line that stretched all the way to the entrance and nearly out the door. “The line starts way back there. You can’t just cut—and also, you stepped on my foot, hello?” 

The man barley even turned back your way, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “Shut up, bitch. I only stepped out of line for a minute.”

First of all… what? You didn’t know where to begin. The fact that he was in line, sure, but he definitely had been gone for like fifteen minutes. Or maybe the fact that he never asked you to hold his place. Or the fact that he was so casually calling you a bitch!

Yeah, he picked the right one today. You took a sharp inhale, preparing for rebuttal when- a delicate hand is placed on your back for a brief moment. 

“Excuse me.” The businessman stepped in front of you, partially blocking your view. “You can either step out of this line, or you can step outside.” 

Oh shit!

His tone was calm, but the weight of it was deadly. It felt like the temperature shifted. It was winter in Tokyo, but that ice had nothing on this man. It was suddenly very cold in here.

The man who cut you turned around and immediately froze up. It was as if he had sensed something primal and inescapable. A hulking businessman at the end of his rope? He didn’t want this fight. 

“Whatever. Food sucks here anyway.” He hurried away.

“Hold on.” He placed a powerful hand on the man’s shoulder, “You stepped on her foot.”

It wasn’t just a comment. It was a very stern suggestion to do something about it. Make amends if you will.

The wiry man looked at Nanami with the fear of God in his eyes before turning them to you. “My- uh, my bad lady.” He shrugged out of the light grasp and hastily left. 

Nanami took a step to the side, gesturing for you to resume your spot in front of him. Almost like the warmth had returned in one fell swoop. Could this guy control the temperature or what?

You turned to him with a grateful smile, “Thank you so much. That was very kind. You didn’t have to do that.” 

Before he could respond, the barista’s sharp voice rang out. “Hello?! It’s your turn miss there’s better food up the street.”

Oh damn, she heard that? 

You bowed politely to the man behind you once more before stepping up to the counter. The menu loomed before you and suddenly you went blank. What did you want again?

“Hmm…” You tapped your fingers against the counter, eyes skimming the options. “Strawberry danish… nah, might be too sweet. Chicken Pesto Sandwich- I’m not gonna finish that. Miso butter toast?” You sucked your teeth, “That’s not a meal though…”

The barista sighed loudly, “Are you being serious? You spent all that time complaining about the service and you have the audacity to come up to this counter not knowing what you want?”

This lady was so rude, but unfortunately she was very right. You couldn’t even be mad. 

“Hold on, that’s not true. I know what I want… I juuuuust…” Panic began to set in. Fuck! You were taking too much time! “I waaaant theeee…”

“Ma’am?!”

“Hojicha dirty latte and gochujang miso grilled tofu?” You regretted it right after saying it. Why were you trying something new? This never ended well. Oh well.

“Finally.” The barista huffed under her breath as she began to put in your order. 

Before you swiped your card, you leaned in a little bit. “Oh, can you also ring me up for a hazelnut espresso for the guy behind me?”

It was your way of saying thank you. After she took your name and you paid, you’d scan the cafe for an open seat.

Like the heavens above blessed you with luck, a small group walked away from a booth. Ah! Yes! And they didn’t leave a mess. Amazing.

You swooped in immediately and slid into the seat. You’d smooth down your black pencil skirt before sitting down. Yes, a black skirt suit is what you wore. Black blazer and white button up with a black tie. Just like the guy behind you said- that’s a desk job for you. 

You’d pull out your phone while you waited for your name to be called. The cafe remained a chaotic blur of white collar workers rushing in and out. Groups of college students huddled in conversations. Overworked baristas slamming espresso shots into machines. Meanwhile you were half tuning out when you got a message notification.

Your best friend and coworker. It was always a risk opening her messages in public… or private. You clicked it open absentmindedly and immediately regretted it.

[Kaya 🤡]: LOOK AT THIS DICK PIC MY STALKER EX SENT ME! LOOK AT IT! WHY WOULD HE SEND THIS?!?!

Your phone nearly slipped your grasp as you attempted to click off, “Holy-” You slapped the phone face down on the table hoping no one in this crowded ass cafe happened to see. 

It was never a dull moment with this woman. The two of you met back in high school. You remained tight despite going to different colleges, and serendipitously ended up working at the same office. 

With a heavy sigh, you typed back: 

[You]: Why the hell would YOU send ME this?!

The message was read immediately, and three little dots danced as she typed back.

[Kaya 🤡]: Because I needed to share my pain. That’s what best friends do. Now you have to suffer with me.

[You]: Block him.

[Kaya 🤡]: No, because then where would I get my daily dose of horror?

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head with a faint smile. This was absurd, but it was also the nature of your relationship. Never failed to exhaust you. Never failed to entertain you.

As you buried your face in your phone, your peripheral vision caught movement. You glanced up to see a small plate with mont blanc set in front of you. Chestnut strands cascading in delicious swirls and dusted with powdered sugar. Mmmm!

Your eyes traced the retreating hand that placed it there, following it up the sleeve of a well tailored black suit. Oh..OH! Him!

“Consider it a thank you for the coffee.” He gave an almost imperceptible smile.

You gazed up at him with a slightly amused smile. “I bought the coffee to thank you for earlier though. Seems you’ve one upped me.”

His expression didn’t change much, but there was something subtle in his eyes. Something knowing.  “So it seems.”

You exhaled a small laugh, “Well at this rate we’ll be locked in a cycle of favors. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of commitment.” 

He made a faint sound, almost a hum of amusement, though his face remained neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, “Where did you say you worked again?”

“I didn’t.” He replied simply. “But I work about three blocks away. Stockbroker.”

You let out a knowing- “Ooh. Salaryman?”

He exhaled through his nose like something caught between a laugh and a sigh. “Something like that.”

You pointed at yourself, “Human Resources. I’m in that similar direction.” You nodded to the empty seat, “Would you like to have a seat? I dare you to find somewhere else to sit. It’s packed in here.”

He hesitated, “I couldn’t impose.”

You rolled your eyes with a light scoff, “Sure you can. It’s just a seat, not a ticket to a luxury resort. If it were, then yeah, I’d reconsider.” 

Something flickered in his gaze. Interest perhaps? Small, but distinct. “Dream vacation, I assume?” 

You nodded, resting your chin in your palm. “I’ll only talk about it if you impose on my lunch break.” 

He gave a soft nod before taking a seat opposite you in the booth.

Hell yeah! You just secured the sexy salaryman at your table! Okay- play it cool…

You smiled, “Just so we’re not total strangers, you can call me-”

You perked up upon hearing your name get called for your order. Finally.

“That.” You gestured toward the counter, “You can call me exactly that.”

For the first time the faintest trace of amusement crossed his features, “Nanami.” He nodded, “And I appreciate your generosity.”

“You’re welcome Nanami.” You pushed yourself out of the booth, “I’d ask you to save my seat, but then you’d be one upping me again and I just can’t have that. I will be right back.”

You made quick work of collecting the food you definitely didn’t care to eat or drink before you returned to the table. You’d scoot back in the booth and start digging into that mont blanc.

“So,” he prompted, lifting his cup. “Tell me about this dream vacation.”

You stuck your fork into the dessert, a smile crossing your face before you started, “Oh, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. It’s been a long time coming.” “Let’s hear it.”

“Malaysia.” Your smile softened. “Waking up in an overwater villa with the waves gently lapping beneath me. The sunrise spilling gold across the ocean. I want my mornings to be slow. Just wandering the streets, sipping teh tarik. Maybe visit the market and buy some tropical fruit. Quiet afternoon in the Cameron Highlands. At night I wanna see the lantern lit markets and just enjoy the life of not having to send another goddamn email explaining that begging your coworkers to invest in your pyramid scheme does not qualify as networking… even if for a moment.” 

The words just poured out of you. It was unfiltered and passionate, and although Nanami didn’t outright smile, you noticed how he never interrupted. He sat with his elbows on the table, fingers loosely curled around his espresso cup, and his hazel eyes fixed on you. 

You’d continue, your eyes turning slightly out the window beside you now, “I think I’ve been putting it off because I have a feeling that if I go I’ll probably never come back.”

There was a silence. Comfortable silence. Like the words were being considered and taken in. But it was then that you realized that was probably way too much to be saying to a stranger.

“I am so sorry.” You frowned just slightly, “I feel like for someone who works HR I should know social boundaries a little better. That was probably a lot for someone I just met.”

The blonde shook his head, “Not at all.”

There was no false politeness in his tone. No empty courtesy. It was just calm and measured with sincerity. It was like he meant it. 

You took another forkful of the mont blanc, “I usually don’t talk this much.”

“I usually don’t listen this much.”

Well that caught you off guard. 

“So what I’m hearing is, I’m special?” You tilted your head, smirking.

“I might phrase it a little differently, but sure.”

You chuckled, “Careful Nanami. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He exhaled, “Well, slip of the tongue I suppose.”

You grinned, “Well since I completely overshared, it’s only fair you do the same. Dream vacation. Let’s hear it.”

You could see his eyes almost dim. Like there was something so real about the answer he was going to give you.

“Home.”

Shit…

Maybe it was an answer far too real. If home was a dream vacation, then that meant he was being far more overworked than he ever let on.

The conversation continued, and the hustle of the city roared outside. It felt like time was kind enough to slow down for you just a little bit so you could enjoy this conversation with a relatable stranger. 

The smell of brewed espresso and cinnamon wafted through the air. It was like a warm moment of peace. 

“Yeah, so I studied at Duke. Four years, in and out and then I came back to Japan.” You shrugged, “What do I have to show for it? A mountain of debt hidden by a prestigious name.”

Nanami made a quiet, amused sound. Almost like he knew.

“That sounds like higher education.” He took a slow sip of espresso. “And unfortunately, not an uncommon story.”

You sighed dramatically, slumping in your seat just a tiny bit, “I know, but you see, I had this idea that I could be the exception. Get my degree, come back, and just boom! Instantly land a high paying job with a great title and live up to my full potential.”

“And instead?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Instead, I came back as another statistic, Nanami.” You sat back up.

Your words were clearly amusing to him.

You leaned forward now, resting your chin on your palm, “I didn’t go to one of the best schools just to have some underqualified middle manager with a big ego push all their busywork onto me… but according to my bank statements- yes the hell I did.” 

And with that, something incredible happened. You actually got the stoic man to laugh. Not exhale. Not smirk. Not just a hint of amusement. A low, but very real and genuine chuckle. That honestly felt like a win, and you would certainly count it as one.

You wouldn’t call him out for actually having laughed for the first time during this conversation, but you were going to internalize it for sure. 

Still smirking, he rested his arm on the table, “Alright then, tell me this. What is the worst part about your job?”

You let out a long, suffering sigh, “Oh God, I have decision paralysis now. There are so many options. I guess I have no right to really complain because I just got this job like three months ago, but it’s the same shit as the last job. The work life balance speech they sell you during orientation is a joke.”

The man nodded as his intrigue deepened. “Yes, the infamous corporate lie.”

You nodded, “Yeah, they're like we want you to thrive. We care about our employees. Take your time to adjust. Go at your own pace.” Your eyelids lowered in irritation, “Then a month in they start sending emails at 11:42pm like- Hey can you circle back on this?”

There it was again, you coaxed another laugh and it was so worth it.

He set his cup down, “And of course they follow up the next morning asking you something else as if you weren’t already up to your neck in work.”

You slapped your hand against the table. “Exactly! And you can’t even be mad because technically they didn’t say you had to answer last night, but if you don’t you're suddenly not a team player and you’re the unreliable one in the office now.”

The blonde sighed deeply, “Ah, corporate manipulation at its finest.” He’d pause for a brief moment, “So you think there is more to life than just work?”

It was a simple question, but he asked in a way to gauge where your head was at. It wasn’t that he was seeking an answer to some deep philosophical question. But, come on, did he know who he was asking?

“I think that most people convince themselves that work is the means to an end, but that’s just because they don’t know what they’d be doing otherwise.” You shugged, “I mean there has to be me more to life than this, because I for one cannot put up with this shit for the next forty years.” 

He’d chuckle once more, and you could tell he was getting comfortable with doing so.

You’d continue. “I think life is about building character.” Your fingers traced the rim of your now finished latte. “It’s not about standing on the shoulders of giants, but becoming one yourself. Forging your own path.” 

Once again his gaze was steady and calculating. Listening.

“You either stand with the greats or look up to them as far as I see it.” You grinned, “And I don’t know about you, but looking up for too long makes my neck kinda hurt.

He laughed once more, “You’re an interesting one.”

What a compliment! Or, at least you’d take it as one.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated against the table. Your alarm! Shit! You were supposed to be back already. Your lunch break was over, and you were officially late. It was worth it though. This conversation was nice. 

“Damn, back to work for me.”

Nanami finally took the last sip of his espresso and collected the trash from his lunch. “Same here.”

You smiled at him, genuinely, “This conversation was a surprising pleasure.”

His eyes stayed locked on you, like he was taking in the moment one final time before the interaction was up. “The pleasure was all mine.” He’d pause for a beat, “Should our paths cross again, you can just call me Kento.”

Ah! Your heart! Did it speed up or stop?! It was so hard to tell! Kento?! First name basis?! 

“Alright, Kento. I’ll be seeing you.” You’d gather your purse and your tray with your now eaten lunch before heading back to the corporate battlefield.

You’d take a half step away before turning to him again, “Thank you.” Your voice was softer this time, “It’s been a long time since I laughed like that.”

He didn’t know it, but you felt like you were drowning lately. It was like you both met at the end of your rope and somehow combined it to buy each other a little extra time. It was more than just a pleasant conversation, for both of you.

Your feet felt like anchors now. Were you really about to leave? You were going to let this sexy salaryman with all this potential walk out of your life like that? Your heart was pounding. Could you ask for his number? Would that be weird? Too suggestive? Shit!

You’d take a few steps away, but something was gnawing at you. Don’t do it. Don’t leave yet! You turned around…

“Hey.” You both spoke in unison.

“Yes?” You replied first.

“Please, after you.” 

You hesitated, forcing your nerves down, “Do you want to exchange numbers?”

His eyes stayed on you, and the faint smirk crossed his lips, “You read my mind.”

Play! It! Cool! 

You pulled out your phone and handed yours to him, and he’d do the same for you. This was not the day you were planning on having, but honestly, after all the corporate bullshit you’d been putting up with lately… it was the one you deserved. 

Kento Nanami

New Contact: Saved

[userluhna]

ORDERS — headcanons

or what junho would order when he comes at your café!

hwang junho x f!reader series

words: 237

warnings: no mention of gender even though i considered it as part of this series. can be read as a random headcanons!

—

since junho comes to your café so often, you remembered his order pretty quickly. you know what he likes and doesn’t, and you also know when he wants something bitter or sweeter.

if he had a rough day—walking in after a shift with his shoulders tense, looking tired—you would probably prepare him a simple black coffee or an americano with no pastries on the side. just enough to keep him alert. he liked the bitterness of it, and you could see his shoulders relax just a bit with the first sip.

if he was more relaxed, stopping by in the afternoon, not in a rush, and the weather was warm, he would probably get an iced latte with a splash of hazelnut syrup. he’d also have a croissant or a cinnamon roll. but if he was in a hurry, stopping by between shifts or in the early afternoon before heading back to work, he would order a double espresso—quick, strong, efficient.

sometimes, he wouldn’t order anything at all, and you’d make him a simple tea, just like you always did when he came by. if he was quieter than usual, you wouldn’t prepare anything right away, maybe waiting for him to say something.

“just water today?” you’d ask, leaning on the counter toward him. he would just smile, a small one, the kind that told you he was exhausted but still found comfort in the warmth of your café.

“aren’t you getting tired of being here so often?”you asked him one day, teasing but curious.

“as long as you’re not tired of me being around—”

“i guess i’m not,” you replied, smiling softly.

—

a/n: you can found headcanons like this, just here!

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: marriage and raising a family is never easy, there are bumps and waves along the way, but even the sun has to come out after a little rain…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight angst, mentions of anxiety and mental health, crying, fluff

𝐀/𝐍: alright everyone we are GETTING BACK TO THE FLUFFY GOODNESS AGAIN, and welcome to chapter six, i’ll be honest idk how many chapters this will have yet, so bear with me, this also seems very shitty writing to me so i apologize if it is💀

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Why did you feel so nervous, it wasn’t as if a stranger was coming to your home, no it was Charles, your Charles. The father of your beautiful little boy, and your husband, whom despite everything you loved with your entire being, of course your heart still hurt from the argument a few days ago but you had to recognize that you were in the wrong just as much as he had been 

The kitchen smelt like notes of caramel and hazelnut as you brewed a fresh poot of coffee, Matteo’s favourite cinnamon scones on the island awaiting his father who was arriving any second now

“Maman, où est papa?” the toddler asked softly, not wanting to interrupt your meticulous place setting at the breakfast nook 

“Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour”

Matteo smiled, sticking to your side wanting to help you as much as he could, it had been a rough couple of days for the little boy, not understanding that his parents were fighting and it wasn’t his fault. Something that you and Charles needed to discuss because the older he got, the more anxious he became.

-

“Est-ce que papa est déjà là?”

You frowned, brushing some of the unruly hair out of the toddlers face 

“Pas ce soir mon amour..”

“Why!”

It wasn’t a surprise to hear Matteo get so upset it had been about two days since he’d seen him, far too long in his mind 

“Because Maman and Papa are just having some time apart..”

Matteo looked up at you, his eyes sad as the began to gloss over, sending your heart into a bit of a panic as you watched the gears turn in his brain trying to figure out what that meant 

“Est-ce à cause de moi?”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve as you quickly scooped up the young boy into your arms 

“Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal”

You paused for a moment 

“I promise you Matteo it is not your fault, sometimes parents just need a cool off so we can have some space and then come back stronger than before, I promise you baby papa and maman love each other so so much, and we love you so much more.”

Matteo stayed quiet but snuggled further into your chest, and you knew in this moment you and Charles needed to figure things out and do it fast.

-

Charles arrived at the house rather quickly, eager to see his little boy and even more excited to see you, he missed being home with the two of you, and was hoping today he could finally come home and work to put this behind him, he would do everything in his power to do that.

“Papa!!”

You looked up in time to see Matteo run off to the front door, straight into Charles’s arms, happy giggles spilling from his lips 

“Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement.”

“Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus!”

Charles smiled pressing kisses to the little boy’s face as they spent a few minutes reconnecting, it made you feel guilty, thinking back on it maybe you should have fixed this problem right when it happened. Not wanting to interrupt them you waited until Matteo took off with his father’s phone to play games, leaving the two of you in the kitchen together, a soft smile on Charles’s face, yet there was evident worry in his eyes. 

“Mon amour…”

Deciding against the slight hurt that remained in your chest you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes as your head rested against his chest 

“I’m sorry..”

“No please, don’t apologize, I shouldn’t have pushed you..”

Shaking your head you looked up at him

“I threw my anxiety in your face and-and I know how important racing is to you and you want to show Matteo everything but-”

“But nothing amour please, I understand why you are scared, Matteo is your baby as is he mine and it was wrong of me to push and push when you weren’t ready and I saw that from the very first time I brought it up…”

He paused just enough to catch a tear that slipped down your cheek before he continued, his thumb remaining on your cheekbone gently 

“I should have never raised my voice at you like I did, I made a promise to you and I broke it, something I swear to you I will never do to you again, all I can say now is I am so sorry amour…tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre.”

Charles didn’t have to say anything else in the moment, because you were quick to press your lips to his, his hands holding onto your face gently, cradling it as if you were made of porcelain. A kiss that brought you back to your wedding night, one that was filled with so much love you thought you might pass out, but god would it have been worth it. 

“I love you, so much Char…come home please and-and we’ll figure out the rest another day.. I should have never made you stay away from us like that, I’ll kick myself for it…”

“No enough, I’m not mad at all baby I don’t blame you..come lets go have a movie day with Teo”

Nodding your head you let him lead you to the living room where Charles was quick to order your favourite lunch, while recruiting Matteo to make the couch into the comfiest movie watching space you’d ever had. A smile coming to your face at the excitement in his eyes, and excitement you’d missed seeing from him the past few days. 

There really was nothing better in the world than having your little family back together, even if there was still much to be discussed and talked about but for right now, this was just perfect. Matteo settled in between the two of you, a happy smile on his face.

“I love you Maman, I love you Papa” 

Charles looked over at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead, letting you settle onto his shoulder comfortably, everything was absolutely perfect, there was nothing that could come between the three of you again.

He would make sure of it, no matter what he had to do.

ʚlittle karter taglist

@goldenalbon @goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @wintfleur

english translations:

Maman, où est papa? - Mom where is daddy?

Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour - He should be here any second my love

Est-ce que papa est déjà là? - is Daddy here?

Pas ce soir mon amour - Not tonight my love

Est-ce à cause de moi? - Is it because of me?

Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal - Little love, it’s not your fault and you have done nothing wrong

Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement. - i missed you so much little prince, daddy loves you so much

Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus! - Daddy i love you so much i missed you even more!

Tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre - you are my sun, my stars, my moon and the greatest gift i’ve ever gotten, i never want to lose you

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Warm Like You | psh

Café for7you followers event

Order for anon ⋆˚✿˖°

One Trope Latte “Strangers to Potential Lovers” with Romance Cream #1. “You’re warm… like a latte on a snowy morning.” and “You come here so often, I might as well charge you rent.” Coming right up!!

Brewed on a snow-dusted morning with a shot of lingering glances, frothed with daily routine, and stirred slowly until hearts thaw. Pairs best with quiet smiles and window seat conversations.

The wind howled as the café door creaked open, sending a flurry of snowflakes dancing across the floor. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

He came in every weekday morning between 7:52 and 8:00, like clockwork. The bell above the door had started to sound different when it was him. Quieter somehow. Like it announced a secret you were in on.

Sunghoon.

Always in the same grey coat.

Always with his hair slightly damp from snow or mist.

Always with a blank expression that softened only when the latte hit his hands.

You glanced up, already grabbing the to-go cup and uncapping a Sharpie.

“Hazelnut latte, extra hot, oat milk,” you said, eyes flicking toward him with a knowing smile.

He blinked, amused. “You memorize everyone’s order?”

You smirked as you scrawled his name — a little crookedly, as always. “No. Just the ones who act like they live here.”

He exhaled a soft laugh through his nose. It wasn’t much, but it counted. Sunghoon wasn’t the chatty type. He came in, got his drink, and sat by the window like he had something on his mind but didn’t know how to name it.

“You come here so often,” you added, “I might as well charge you rent.”

Sunghoon looked down at the tip jar labeled espresso yourself and wordlessly slid in a folded five. “I pay in cash and loyalty points.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Steam hissed from the espresso machine as you frothed the milk. He leaned against the counter, snow melting into little puddles at his feet. He wasn’t in a rush today.

“You look like a tragic winter protagonist,” you said, giving him a once-over. “Let me guess. Missed the train? Slipped on black ice? Your umbrella flipped inside out?”

“All three,” he said flatly.

You stifled a laugh. “You poor thing.”

He watched you work, his fingers drumming softly on the wood. “At least the coffee never fails me.”

You handed him the latte, your fingers brushing his as he took it. There was a moment — a pause — like the world waited for something to be said.

Then he murmured it, quiet and almost to himself:

“You’re warm… like a latte on a snowy morning.”

Your heart stuttered.

He blinked as if realizing he’d said it out loud. “That sounded less weird in my head.”

“No, it’s—” You laughed, ducking your head. “It’s kind of cute, actually. I’ve been compared to a cat before, but never coffee.”

Sunghoon chuckled, and you swore it made the café feel warmer than the space heater near the window ever could.

“Can I stay a little longer today?” he asked.

You tilted your head. “No train to catch?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking the scenic route this morning.”

“You’re in luck,” you said, motioning to the window seat — his seat. “It’s available. Not that anyone else ever tries to take it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you kick people out if they sit there?”

You shrugged. “I mean, not physically. But I do guilt-trip.”

He smiled again — softer this time — and made his way to the window. Snow fell heavier outside, but the inside of the café was steeped in warmth and the smell of cinnamon. You watched him settle in, fingers wrapped around the cup like he was trying to soak in something more than just heat.

Over the next few days, the snow didn’t let up — and neither did he.

Each morning, he came a few minutes earlier. He lingered a few minutes longer. He started asking about your favorite pastries. He brought in a paperback and left it on the table “by accident,” only to find you had bookmarked a page with a post-it note the next day.

And one Friday, when the shop was empty and the snow was falling in thick, quiet waves outside, you brought over two cups instead of one.

“I made yours a little extra today,” you said, sliding the cup toward him. “With cinnamon. You seemed like a cinnamon person.”

He glanced at the second cup in your hand. “And that one?”

“That’s mine. I figured—” You hesitated. “If you’re staying a little longer anyway…”

His gaze lingered on your face for a heartbeat too long before he nodded.

“Then maybe,” he said, lifting his cup, “I do live here.”

You sat across from him, both your cups steaming in the quiet, and for once, you didn’t care about time, or the orders piling up behind the counter. Not when Sunghoon was looking at you like that — like the café wasn’t the only warm place he’d found that winter.

Want to place an order? See here what Café for7you has to offer for you! ₊˚⊹♡

©️tobiosbbyghorl - all rights reserved

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @rikifever @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr

[anything-pov]

ok so have you ever seen Gilmore girls

cuz i want a Criminal Minds AU with Gilmore Girls

JJ is a single mom and Reader is a diner owner where she visits every single day

Enjoy 😊

The Diner 🍟

The boys were wild with back to school jitters, Michael bouncing in the passenger seat, Henry chattering in the back about pencil cases and which back pack made him ‘look the fastest.’

JJ, single mom and exhausted FBI agent, just smiled and let them run it out. She’d promised them dinner. A treat. Something fun before school started again and schedules got tight.

She didn’t say it aloud, but she needed it too. The diner was tucked behind the block across from the FBI building.

It had red leather booths, warm yellow lighting, a pinball machine that hadn’t worked in years, and a specials board written in swooping, crooked chalk.

It smelled like grilled cheese and cinnamon sugar and comfort. “Welcome to Y/L/N’s!” came a voice from the kitchen window, “Sit wherever you like! I’ll be right out!”

JJ’s eyes flicked toward the voice, catching just a glimpse of a woman with a backwards hat, tight grey tee hugging broad shoulders, and arms flecked with faint scars.

The woman disappeared again before JJ could get a good look, but Henry was already tugging her toward a corner booth.

They ordered burgers, milkshakes, and a shared plate of curly fries. It wasn’t long before the owner came out with menus and a crooked smile.

“Hey there! I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice was low, a little gravelly, “I own the place. Kitchen is short tonight, so you’ve got me for waitress duty too.”

JJ looked up, and for a moment, the world paused. Y/N was striking. Buff, sure. But it was more than that. There was kindness in her eyes, a warmth and gentleness.

She was flushed from the kitchen heat and had a tiny pen tucked behind her ear. “You’re doing great,” JJ said, her smile from ear to ear, “I’m JJ. These two are Henry and Michael.”

“Burgers and shakes for the back-to-school crew?” Y/N grinned at the boys, “You got it. I’ll throw in a couple extra fries… on the house. That okay, ma?”

JJ laughed, “More than okay.”

- - -

The next day, after the school drop off and a soul numbing few hours of paperwork at the BAU, JJ found herself standing in front of Y/L/N's again, her heels clicking softly on the pavement.

She told herself it was because she hadn't packed lunch. Not because of the waitress/owner with the soft, shy smile. Y/N looked surprised but pleased when JJ walked in.

"You again?" She teased, "Didn't peg you for a repeat customer so fast." Y/N smiled, straightening the chef's apron she had on. "I'm very persuasive when it comes to curly fries," JJ told her, sliding into the same booth as yesterday.

“And I didn’t get to say thank you properly. For being so sweet to the boys.” Y/N shrugged, wiping her greasy hands on the apron, "They were cool kids. Plus, you looked like you needed a break."

JJ blinked, "I did." Their eyes lingered. A beat a little too long.

Lunch was quiet, full of little glances and laughter. When JJ left, Y/N handed her a to-go coffee, hazelnut, just like the blonde liked, and muttered, "Come by whenever. I mean that."

Three days later, JJ came by after work. The diner was closing. The windows were steamed, the floors mopped. Y/N let her in anyway. JJ was in slacks and a blouse, hair falling from its twist.

Y/N had a flannel tied around her waist and was barefoot. “You hungry?” JJ shook her head. “No. I’m...” She faltered. Y/N tilted her head. “Then why’re you here?”

JJ stepped forward, took Y/N’s face in her hands, and kissed her. Y/N’s hands hovered at first, unsure, respectful, reverent, until JJ deepened the kiss, tugging her closer by the hem of her shirt.

Y/N made a soft, breathy sound, then wrapped those strong arms around JJ’s waist and lifted her gently up onto the counter.

They made love right there on the counter, laughter and soft moans echoing off the stainless steel and the warmth of an old radio playing in the background.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect. It was electric and messy and sweet. Afterward, JJ lay on her side in a corner booth, Y/N pressed to her back, brushing kisses along her shoulder blade.

They’d kept things simple. JJ came by after work. Y/N texted pictures of goofy food creations. The boys had no idea. Garcia and Emily were suspicious. Reid noticed JJ smiling more.

One night, two weeks after their kiss, JJ arrived with a takeout order, dinner for Y/N for once. She found Y/N on the rooftop of the diner, sitting on an old blanket under the fairy lights strung along the railing.

“You brought me food?” Y/N teased, grabbing the bag. “You’re always cooking. Figured I owed you.” JJ smiled. They ate sitting hip-to-hip, sharing fries and stealing bites.

Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans and shifted, nervous. “JJ?” JJ turned toward her. “Yeah?”

“I like you. A lot. More than I planned to. More than I thought I should. And I was wondering if… you’d want to be my girlfriend.” Y/N finally got out, her hands shaking with nerves.

JJ smiled, cupping Y/N’s cheek with one hand. “God, yes.”

[pascalissmoked]

Soft in the Right Hands - Prologue

Summary: Bucky Barnes walks into Bean Voyage every day, ordering nothing but black coffee, his quiet routine a mask for the chaos of his past. But Quinn Hodge, the sharp-witted barista with no fear of the notorious Winter Soldier, seems to see right through him. In a place that feels too ordinary for someone like him, Bucky finds himself returning, not just for the coffee, but for the mystery of Quinn—and maybe something more than he’s willing to admit. The question is: what happens when the walls he’s built around himself start to crack, one sip at a time? Word count: 1.4K Warnings: none really, maybe a bit of language. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE GUYS A/N: My first ever fic and part one of an upcoming series. Please leave a message behind, criticism as welcomed :)

The bell above the door jingled as Bucky stepped into the Bean Voyage, the scent of burnt espresso and cinnamon clashing in the air. The place was small, tucked between a bodega and a laundromat, with mismatched chairs and a crooked menu board that had been written and rewritten so many times, half the prices were smudged beyond recognition.

Steve had been the one to drag him here months ago, claiming it was “good for you, Buck—y'know normal people things.”

Normal. Right. Because nothing screamed normal like a hundred-year-old ex-assassin ordering coffee like he didn’t wake up sweating from nightmares five times a week.

Sam had followed soon after, mostly to piss off Bucky and flirt shamelessly with the barista. Quinn.

Bucky's eyes flicked toward the counter, where she stood—hair tied back, a sharp look of concentration on her face as she attempted to fix the ancient espresso machine by smacking it with a metal spoon.

“Work, damn you,” she muttered, whacking it one more time.

Bucky stifled a smirk.

The girl was a force to be reckoned with sometimes. He often wondered how someone could be so goddamn bad at their job and still never get fired. She had a way with the costumers though. Always smiling, never showing it if she was in a sour mood. She treated everyone with respect. She never looked at him the way others did. Didn’t seem to care that Captain America and co were her regulars, that he came here nearly every other day.

No fear. No curiosity. No whispers of that’s him—the Winter Soldier.

To her, he was just the grumpy guy who always ordered black coffee and left a generous tip, even though he rarely said more than a few words.

And for some reason, that made him come back.

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Quinn said as she spotted him and waltzed over. “Grumpy, Blondie, and Birdman. What can I get you? The usual?”

“First of all, I have a name,” Sam said, pointing at her. “Second, how do you still have a job when you make the worst coffee in Brooklyn?”

“Charm and spite,” Quinn shot back.

Steve chuckled, nudging Bucky forward. “Go on, tell her what you want.”

Bucky hated how all eyes landed on him like he was some kind of shy teenager. He huffed. “Black coffee.”

“Shocking,” Quinn deadpanned, scribbling on a notepad. “You do realize other drinks exist, right? We’ve got caramel lattes. Hazelnut mochas. Hot chocolate, if you’re feeling bold.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Black. Coffee.”

Quinn grinned. “One cup of personality juice coming right up.”

Sam howled with laughter. Steve looked like he was fighting a smile. Bucky just shook his head, but when Quinn turned away, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

Something dangerously close to fondness.

Steve’s voice sliced through the laughter before Bucky had a chance to roll his eyes.

“Quinn, stop making fun of the guy who has absolutely no interest in your weird flavored concoctions,” the blond-haired man said, not looking up from the crumpled menu in his hand.

Quinn flipped her hair over her shoulder as she grinned. “I’m just trying to introduce him to the world of taste, Stevie. He’s missing out.” Her voice was a perfect blend of playful and exasperated, like she’d said this exact thing a hundred times before. Bucky could almost hear the smirk in her tone.

Bucky's eyes narrowed, though he was fighting the grin tugging at his lips. “I like what I like.” He’d heard that line from a million people over the years, but there was something about saying it to Quinn that made it sound different, less defensive, and more… amusing.

He slid into his usual seat by the window next to Sam, where the cracked glass made everything feel just a bit off-kilter, but in a way that kind of worked. Brooklyn was like that. A little messy, a little broken, but beautiful anyway.

As Quinn finished up the orders for the other patrons, she finally turned around, wiping her hands on a rag before leaning casually against the counter. She met his gaze, her eyes not exactly warm but… not cold either. Neutral. Like they always were. Maybe even a little curious.

“What’s the deal with you, huh?” she asked, her tone light, but her eyes sharp. “I mean, you walk in here like you’re on some mission to ruin everyone’s day. Yet you come back every damn time. You’re loyal, I’ll give you that.”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by the directness of her question. Most people tiptoed around him, acted like they were afraid he might snap—except her. Quinn wasn’t afraid of him. That much was obvious.

“I don’t ruin anyone’s day,” Bucky muttered, though a small smirk was pulling at his mouth now. “I’m not here to make friends.”

“Oh, please, you’re practically family at this point,” Quinn shot back, motioning around the café. “We’ve got this down to a science. You come in, you sit at that window seat, order black coffee, and avoid any real human interaction. And I, for some strange reason, don’t mind. It’s predictable.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath. Predictable. Yeah, that sounded about right. He wasn’t in the mood for surprises, not since—well, for a long time now.

“What’s your name again?” Quinn asked, wiping a stray speck of foam from the counter. “I’m sure Sam’s told me a thousand times, but I’ve got this thing with remembering names. They just… slip.”

“Bucky,” he said. “Bucky Barnes.”

She paused for a moment, as if testing the name on her tongue. “Bucky Barnes,” she repeated, nodding slowly. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re secretly a tortured soul or just a guy who really likes black coffee. Either way, I’m gonna keep giving you your drink, because you leave an amazing tip every time.”

He froze at the mention of the tip. It wasn’t much, just enough to show he appreciated their service, but for some reason, Quinn always noticed it. And it was… unsettling in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt too personal. Too real.

“You don’t have to keep giving me compliments,” Bucky mumbled, his gaze shifting back to his hands. He wasn’t good at this, at being seen, not in this way.

Quinn’s laugh rang out, light and genuine. “I don’t think I’m complimenting you, Barnes. I think I’m just noticing you. Big difference.”

Sam, who had been pretending to read the menu, like that was gonna fool anyone, snorted into his coffee. “Oh, Bucky, she’s got you figured out, man.”

Steve shot Sam a warning look, but it didn’t matter. Bucky's face burned, but there was something about Quinn’s bluntness that disarmed him. She wasn’t coy or awkward. She wasn’t trying to flirt with him. She just… was.

“So, what’s the deal, Buck?” she asked again, leaning on the counter, her elbows now resting on the worn surface. “What’s the real reason you come in here?”

It was too much. Too personal. Too… human.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “I just… want the damn coffee, Quinn.”

Her eyes softened, just a little, and she gave him a small nod. “Fair enough. But you know, the next time you show up, I might make you try something new. You never know—could change your life.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile creeping onto his lips. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Your loss,” she said, walking back to the espresso machine, but her tone was light, teasing.

It felt like a weird kind of truce. And Bucky had to admit, a part of him was almost looking forward to the next time he came in. To the strange, awkward little conversations. To Quinn’s sharp humor. To the way she never treated him like the Winter Soldier, like someone too dangerous to even look at. No, she treated him like… like he was just him. Like people treated him seventy years ago.

And maybe that was all he really needed.

The bell above the door jingled as he walked out, black coffee in hand, but Bucky didn’t hurry this time. He walked slowly, his mind already drifting to the next time he’d find himself in that tiny café, ordering the same damn thing.

Because for some reason, it wasn’t just the coffee he was coming back for anymore.

A/N: Thank you soo much if you read this and stay updated for new parts xxxx

[esilher]

Art: @esilher   Fic: @mynonah  Thank you so much @bossymarmalade for the quick beta reading! <3  You can read it on AO3

Winter Magic (Part 2) → (Please read Part 1 first here )

“Wait… You think I’m a spy?” Kurt’s eyes widened.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, and Kurt noticed the tension in Blaine’s body at the question.

“Aren’t you?” He asked harshly.

“Of course not! I just told you I work at Vogue.” Kurt replied. “And if you happen to find a coffee shop with that name, please let me know, because I’m pretty sure that name is trademarked.” Kurt snapped. “God, I just…”

“You just…?” Blaine interrupted impatiently, leaning forward in his chair.

Kurt sighed. “I made a bet with my roommate,” he spat out. “We made a bet on whether I could reproduce our favorite winter coffee at home,” Kurt explained. “Her birthday is the deadline. Which is tomorrow, by the way," he added sadly.

Blaine sat back in his chair and tried to process what he had just heard. He studied Kurt’s disappointed expression, wondering if he should believe him.

“You could have just taken a cup of Winter Magic home and put it in a mug, you know.”

“That’s cheating!” Kurt said indignantly. “And I know I can do it.” he added confidently, taking a sip of his coffee. His eyebrows immediately furrowed.

“Are you sure?” The barista asked and Kurt put down his coffee, pursing his lips.

Blaine shook his head, turned his attention back to his coffee, scraping the seam of the paper cup as he thought about it. He took another sip and sighed.

“What did you bet?” He asked, still staring at his coffee.

Kurt looked up at Blaine hopefully. “If I lose, I’ll have to do all the dishes in the evenings.”

“Forever?”

“As long as we’re roommates, yes.”

“Ugh,” Blaine groans sympathetically. “And what if you win?”

“Rachel can’t start warming up her vocal cords before 6am. And I need my beauty sleep, Blaine!” Kurt looked at him meaningfully.

For a moment, a warm feeling filled Blaine’s chest. It happened every time he thought Kurt remembered his name before he realized he was wearing a name tag. Finally, he looked at Kurt again, and seeing the miserable look on Kurt’s face, he couldn’t help but laugh. Okay, he’s probably not a spy, Blaine decided. Thank God… 

“You use too much cinnamon.”

“I like cinnamon.”

Blaine smiled. “Noted. I’ll definitely think about it next time.” He took another sip. “Otherwise, it’s quite good,” he added.

“I know," Kurt replied, as if nothing could be more obvious. “But it’s not the same as yours.”

“No, it’s not. But… I think you’re missing just one ingredient.”

Kurt looked at Blaine excitedly. He leaned forward over his table, his eyebrows raised in question. Blaine leaned forward too, close enough that their faces almost touched. 

“I guess if I told you, that would be cheating too,” he whispered.

“Shit!” Kurt growled. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You’re right,” he grumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” the barista smiled. “But don’t be hard on yourself, this recipe has many elements.”

“I don’t understand,” Kurt shook his head. “I’ve used soy milk, I added star anise, ginger, nutmeg, hazelnut syrup, cloves, cinnamon, cocoa nibs, turmeric and saffron, a touch of chili, pumpkin syrup…”

“I’m impressed, by the way.”

“What am I missing?” Kurt asked, sounding desperate. “Some exotic spice that I couldn’t find even if I looked for it?”

Blaine laughed, but stopped when he realized it was making Kurt look even more miserable. He took another sip of his coffee and leaned a little closer. “How did you get the proportions so right?”

“Well, I could lie and say it was easy, but since you know I’ve been suffering with this for weeks now…” he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Kurt, I’ll be honest. I know seasoning isn’t atomic physics, but I’ve been working on these specialties for months to get the perfect balance of ingredients and make them all special, something the customer can’t get anywhere else. You copied our best-selling coffee specialty in two weeks.”

“Well, I did not, did I? I missed something.” Kurt grumbled.

Blaine smiled and twirled the cup absentmindedly in his hand. “I want to know how you did it.”

Kurt shrugged. “I’m pretty good with spices.”

“I can see that.”

“I like to cook and bake, that’s all. I’ve experimented a lot since I was a kid, it’s just fun. There’s not much difference between trying to find a new character for a cookie and this,” Kurt pointed to his coffee and the spices. “It drives me crazy.”

Blaine watched as Kurt tensely organized the small jars in front of him. He was really impressed that Kurt had gotten this far in figuring out his recipe. Blaine was already convinced that the guy in front of him wasn't a spy. He believed him, and he knew that Kurt would soon figure out the last ingredient.

Blaine sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me what spices you use in your favorite cookies.”

Kurt opened his mouth to reflexively say no, since he never shared his recipes with anyone, except Carole. But he froze when he realized that it probably wouldn’t be fair to say no at this point.

Blaine noticed Kurt's hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “Is that a secret, Kurt?” He asked, amused. He leaned closer to Kurt across the table, a playful smile appearing on his face. “I think you owe me that much, Kurt.”

Kurt shook his head, but smiled back at the barista. He opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine cut him off by raising his hand.

“Wait,” he said, and grabbed Santana’s arm as she was about to walk past them. He whispered something in her ear, she nodded and walked on. “I’m listening now,” Blaine turned back to Kurt.

“My favorite recipe is actually quite simple,” Kurt began, playing with the paper cup in front of him, his eyes on the coffee. Cinnamon dominates, of course. No surprise,” he glanced up at Blaine for a second, who smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. “I use cardamom, ginger, vanilla, a little cumin, it gives it character, and…” Kurt’s eyes widened as he finally put the last piece of the puzzle in place. “I can’t believe it,” he looked up at Blaine, who was grinning at him. 

“You’re welcome,” Blaine said, then drank the rest of his coffee, picked up the empty cups and stood up.

“How could I have missed it?!” Kurt shook his head in disbelief.

“It was too easy, I guess. And it doesn’t dominate at all. I’m not a fan of it, but if you use just a very small amount it can balance out the other spices.” Blaine explained. “I have to go back now.”

“Of course.” Kurt nodded and thanked him.

The moment Blaine left the table, another tray landed in front of Kurt with a freshly brewed, steaming cup of espresso, hot water and a vanilla bar next to them.

"Boss ordered this for you. It’s on the house," the waitress said before disappearing among the tables.

-

A few minutes later, Blaine spotted Kurt at the counter, and he couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Did it work?” he asked as he walked up to Kurt.

“I don’t know yet.”

Blaine looked at Kurt then down at the coffee cup questioningly.

“You tell me,” Kurt said, placing the cup in front of Blaine. “I made this one for you.”

“Thank you.” Blaine smiled in surprise. Slowly, he raised the cup to his lips, and keeping eye contact with Kurt, took a sip of the coffee. He’s nervous, Blaine observed. Cute.

“So?”

Another sip, just to be sure. 

“Wow. It’s perfect, Kurt. It really is.”

“Really?” Kurt jumped with excitement, making Blaine laugh. “Thanks for helping me.”

“I didn’t do anything, you figured it out on your own,” Blaine shrugged. “And you know, if you were looking for a job…” Blaine started, and he realized he was only half joking. But Kurt laughed. 

“No, I’m not. But with this offer you’ve convinced me, I guess the coffee turned out really good,” he said. 

They said goodbye before Kurt headed for the door.

As Kurt walked out of the coffee shop, Blaine leaned against the counter and drank the rest of his coffee. He stared at the empty cup in his hand, lost in thought and smiled. He wondered when he would see Kurt again. He hoped he would come back. Even if Blaine just helped him make his favorite coffee at home, so he had no reason to... 

Oh, shit. 

The thought knocked him out of his good mood. I should have asked for his number. He was wondering how many men named Kurt could work at Vogue, and if trying to find out what would be considered stalking, when Santana appeared next to him.

“I’m an idiot,” he groaned.

“Yes, you are, Boss,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “But at least he’s not,” she added as she reached over and swirled the cup in Blaine’s hand, revealing the handwriting on the other side.

* * * Free refills, anytime! :) Kurt (555) 555-5555

[archangeldyke-all]

i’m so excited for halloween. i love all things fall/october.

could you write an autumn fic? 🍂

more specifically— i feel like the reader would have to force sev to wear some kinda costume for halloween >:) how do you think sev x reader would dress up? how would they spend their night together? ly mootie! ♡

my city's in the middle of a heat wave and it's HUMID too, it's horrible-- so yes, let's think about fall for a while hehehehe

men and minors dni

there is no doubt in my mind that fall's her favorite season.

and i think halloween is probably her favorite holiday too.

she's not a festive person, so even though she loves fall, she doesn't really indulge herself in things like decorating or baking.

but you do.

sevika doesn't realize how much she loves fall until she meets you. because you treat fall like it's your birthday or something. sevika's shocked to see how much you incorporate her favorite season into your day to day life. and even more surprising, she's shocked to find that she kind of loves it.

as the leaves start to change, you start making her coffee pumpkin flavored, sometimes adding a bit of hazelnut and cinnamon too. she fucking loves it, it's the best coffee she's ever had.

your apartment always smells like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves or flannel-- various candles burning and filling your space with the cozy smells and a lovely warm glow when the days start to grow dark earlier.

you start cooking hearty, warm meals-- stews and chilis and soups and curries-- sevika fucking adores it. there's nothing like a freshly baked slice of bread scooping up some kind of meaty sauce.

and your baking. sevika's almost cries the first time you hand her a plate of freshly homemade triple chocolate chip cookies, with a tall glass of milk.

she adores watching you start to get cozier as the days grow colder. your home becomes slowly filled with fuzzy blankets, you string up some fairy lights to flick on in the dark afternoons, pumpkin decor starts to decorate your tables and shelves.

she loves watching you cuddle into a hoodie, or pull a scarf up over your nose when you're outside and it's chilly. she especially loves cuddling with you under a blanket on the couch.

sevika just can't say no to you. she hates it. (she loves it.)

this means she ends up carving jack-o-lanterns for the first time in her life with you at the big age of forty three. she's surprised to find that she loves it-- scooping the guts of the pumpkin out is so satisfying, and she's always loved stabbing things. (what she loves most of all is the way you arrange your jackolanterns right next to each other on your front stoop, a scarf strung around the two of them, just like when you share your scarf with her.)

this also means that she wears a halloween costume for the first time in nearly thirty five years just for you.

obviously, it has to be a matching costume. sevika will not humiliate herself unless it's to show the world that she's yours.

i'm thinking about the classic lesbian couple costumes: werewolf and vampire.

sevika tries to get away with being a vampire by just drawing two little dots of red lipstick on her neck. you go all out-- buying a werewolf mask and gloves. and on the night of, when you reveal your costumes to each other, you pout at sevika until she rolls her eyes and gives in-- putting on the vampire costume you bought at the same halloween store you got your mask in.

you go to a party at silco's house, the adults drinking while the kids binge on candy, spooky music blasting, vander trying to jumpscare every guest by the end of the night.

you only show up for an hour before you decide to head home, both of you overwhelmed by the party.

sevika tugs on your sleeve as you wander through the leaf-covered sidewalks toward home. "babe, look." she whispers.

she swipes her vampire-cape to the side and reveals one of her fanny packs on her hip-- stuffed to the brim with candy she's stolen from the kids.

you burst into laughter and smack her shoulder, before pulling a kitkat out of her bag and crunching into it.

when you get back home, you spend the rest of the night smoking a joint on the front porch together, snuffing it out when kids approach and ask for candy.

sevika's shocked when you reveal the box of full size bars you'd bought to pass out, and you just shrug. "it keeps me on the good side of all the neighbor kids for the rest of the year."

she knows this isn't the real reason you do it though, you're too much of a softie. the real reason is the giant smiles and excited laughs the kids give the pair of you when you pass them the giant chocolates.

at one point, a little boy dressed in a dinosaur costume approaches with his parents trailing behind him. he seem's shy-- scared to run up onto your porch-- but with a bit of encouragement from you and his parents, he finally climbs the steps.

when sevika hands the boy the candy bar--nearly the size of his head-- his entire expression changes, a huge, toothless grin taking over his face. "thanks scary ladies!" he shouts, before running back down the stairs to show his parents his bounty. sevika chuckles to herself about this for the rest of the night.

by eleven, most of the kids have gone home. you and sev turn in, blowing out the jackolanterns, leaving the box of chocolate out for any teenagers looking to make trouble, hoping that they'll take the bribe and keep from egging or tp-ing your house.

you get in your (matching flannel) pjs and crawl into bed, snuggling and lazily making out as coraline plays on the tv.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty

[guardian-of-time-if]

500 Followers Celebration: Q & A

Happy Saturday everyone! As I promised earlier this week, here is a Q&A. Some of the questions were a bit more serious than I remember, but it starts ridiculous and ends ridiculous.

What are the character's thoughts on socks?:

Lukyan: “I mean they make my boots much more comfortable, but they are way too fickle. They never shrink or discolor exactly the same way after you wash or wear them, and they always seem to go missing. All in all, more effort than they’re worth, and I often walk around the palace without them.”

Tzesar: “Have you ever been to the northern part of the Empire? It's way too cold to even think about not having fuzzy socks on you at all times. No matter how much my brother likes to make fun of me. I can assure you everyone is hiding at least two pairs of socks under their boots..”

Sentinel: “Am I really supposed to have an opinion about something so nonsensical?”

Naxok: *wrinkles his nose* “I actually don’t wear them. I spend too much time in the water, so they usually just end up soaked and wet plus freezing cold is terrible for you no matter how many layers of wet there are. Besides, I enjoy leaving my bare feet in water far too much to appreciate them.”

Albien: “Socks are an important part of keeping warm. I just wish they wouldn’t go missing so easily.”

Gaderous: “What a funny question. I suppose like most people I appreciate them keeping me warm, and get annoyed when they slip off my feet or get holes in them. Although, I will say that sock puppets freak me out a little.”

What would they say are the worst food crimes imaginable, both modern and setting accurate?:

Lukya: His are actually the same for both- eating raw meat or fish. Just if it had to be hunted it needs to be cooked. 

Tzesar: Setting accurate- cooking vegetables in stew. Vegetables are best appreciated as God intended, fresh and void of spice or sauce.

Modern- Salad dressing, and serving ranch on a veggie tray

Sentinel: Setting accurate- using any ingredient in food that has alternate uses in magic spells/rituals/potions (most of these can’t be eaten, but the few that can have lingering magic in them that Sentinel swears he can taste.)

Modern- Lattes (or any coffee fancier/further from basic black than that)

Naxok: Setting accurate- Sea monster is delicacy in some parts of the world… A fact that Nax likes to pretend does not exist because it makes him think of his precious pet Nellie.)

Modern-The concept of deep frying

Albien: Setting accurate- Its popular among House Phoenix (his mother’s family) to light food on fire before eating it, but the flame changes color based on the types of protein in the food, and makes everything smell and (to Albien) taste like smoke

Modern- There are too many to count, but the simplest way to cover everything is processed junk food that kids like (He’s basically like a health food parent when it comes to modern food) 

Gaderous: Setting accurate- It’s really popular where he grew up is to take roasted hazelnuts and  wrap them in a plant called Garensweed, which takes the shape of a leaf with the texture of cooked spinach, covered in a berry flavored jam. Then they smoke it over a fire. His dad commits the atrocity of putting pickles inside his, and dipping it in a cinnamon caramel sauce. Gaderous has been so traumatized by his dad’s version, that he always checks for pickles when he buys one from a bakery. 

Modern- I think he’d be open to trying pretty much anything in a modern setting, and would really only label something a food crime if it's so wrong it would make someone sick, or just can’t conceivably go together. 

How would they act in a hypothetical game of Catan?

Naxok and Lukyan would be treating it like its risk and over analyzing the best military strategy, despite the fact that you don’t actually have a military in Catan. They also both stubbornly refuse to trade with each other until they realize that one has no wheat and the other has no bricks, so they really should, but won’t until all other options have been exhausted. Sentinel is playing up both sides, and while trying to hide his competitive streak. The only thing he hates more than sharing, is losing, and it shows. Not only will he win, he will crush everyone. (And if he thought they’d give him an edge, would have no qualms about using his powers to win.) On the other hand, Tzesar is naturally the best at it, but he spends most of his time trying to get the two achievements, longest road, and largest army. Most of the guys assume that he’s not paying too much attention to the building aspect, and leave him be. He wins pretty quickly and everyone else is dumb founded, and Sentinel is pissed. Meanwhile, Albien is just really chill, and smiling even though he’s in last place and like Tzesar, is not really trying. He’s kind of like a dad who got sweet-talked into playing with the kids, and is letting them win because watching them get so invested in the game is more fun than winning. His intentionally bad trades are also the reason that Tzesar won so easily. Meanwhile Gaderous is making up rules to confuse people and spends most of his time making development cards, and convincing players to make weird trades with him. He’s not actually trying to win, he just wants to make Sentinel lose because he thinks it's funny to annoy the elf.

How would the guys react, after being in a relationship with the MC to being asked the question: Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Lukyan: Lukyan would be very confused by the question, and would stand there silently for long enough that the MC probably thinks he’s not going to answer her until he finally says, “I would still love *you*, but since worms don’t have consciousness, you wouldn’t be *you* if you were a worm.”

Tzesar: Depending on what he was doing when asked, he might stop listening after “would you still love me…” and just answer yes while finishing whatever he was doing. If the MC had his full attention he’d be academically intrigued by how it would work, but would try to avoid showing that and answer the question seriously with “If you had gotten turned into a worm then yes, I would, and I would stop at nothing to get you back. If you were born a worm then sadly probably not because we never would have met.”

Sentinel: If he had a more teasing/bickering relationship with the MC then he’d be like “Who says I love you now?” with a single eyebrow raised. If pressed he’d give her the same answer he’d give a more gentle/sensitive MC which is, “The only thing that could turn you into a worm is witchcraft, so I could undo it with a snap of the fingers, making the whole conversation moot.”

Naxok: The man lives on a boat (excuse me, ship) which is not the safest place for a worm, so he would just shrug, and tell her it wouldn’t really matter. “Nellie would probably eat you regardless, so I might be sad that you were gone, but there’d be nothing for it.”

Albien: He would take it as a frivolous way of demonstrating a real fear, and instead of answering the question would pull her into a hug (if standing) or into his lap (if he was sitting), and ask her if there was a reason she was afraid of being unloved. If it really was just a joke he would be unimpressed.

Gaderous: He laughs and turns the tables. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

How would they react to a surprise party?"

Luk: Does not like surprises in nearly any context, and has no friends, so a surprise party is basically his worst nightmare because he has no control over the situation and is surrounded by a bunch of people he probably doesn't like. He would probably be uncomfortable the whole time, and depending on who threw the surprise party might assume someone is trying to kill him. He probably only stays if there’s food, and leave as soon as he can.

Tzesar: Would handle it a lot better than Luk. He’d say hi to everyone invited, thank whoever threw the party, eat, and mingle with all the guests. If there’s courtiers invited then he’s a little thrown off because he likes to prepare before interacting with them. If the party is only with his friends, he just relaxes and enjoys the festivities.

Sentinel: Has somehow found out about the party and just doesn’t ever show up. Is then not seen for a week. 

Naxok: Is overjoyed, completely invested in the party and gives a bear hug to everyone involved.

Albien: Takes a moment to register what’s going on, but ultimately enjoys it, though much less enthusiastically than Nax. 

Gaderous: He’s extremely touched. He’s always wanted someone to throw him a surprise party, but has never told anyone because he thought it wouldn’t mean as much if he told someone he want a surprise party and they did versus coming to that conclusion themselves. 

How would they react to an unexpected kiss from MC?:

Lukyan: Still does not like surprises and goes stiff as a statue. If MC is sad/disappointed/worried/nervous/trying to apologize/ect. because he didn’t kiss back, then he’ll try to explain and do a really bad job of it, before realizing he’s only making it worse, grunting, turning around taking exactly three steps before it occurs to him that walking away would be even worse, turning back around to kiss her himself. If MC is amused/smug/flirty because she caught him off-guard then he’d just raise an eyebrow and be like I hope you're pleased with yourself, and walk away. 

Tzesar: Blinks a couple times before trying to return to whatever he was doing before only he seems to have forgotten, then asks MC what he was just doing. Does the same thing to her a couple days later.

Sentinel: Intentionally keeps his face as void of emotion as possible until MC moves away, then he just picks her up. Then he whispers in a low voice “You forgot two very important things, never start anything you can’t finish, and remember I always win.” while he carries her somewhere where A there’s privacy and B he’s got enough space to lay her flat on her back, where… tickles ensue (I bet that’s not where you thought this was going did you.)

Nax: Can’t stop himself from grinning. Somewhere between “what was that for?” and “I know this means you want something, but I’m too happy to care.” If there is in fact an ulterior motive, he gives MC a kiss on the head before doing what she wants, if there is nothing, then he pulls her into a hug, after kissing her head instead. 

Albien: Laughs a little bit. “I’m not sure I deserved that, but I’m pleased you thought so.”

Gaderous: Probably makes a stupid joke about how MC has fallen into his trap or if she’s not careful, then he’ll never leave. Then he’d give her another kiss after. 

How would they react to MC having a pat duck?:

(This one I saw on another Tumblr blog, and sent a screenshot to my friends because I thought it was funny. Since it was around the time we were doing this Q&A I decided to answer it myself because it was cute and funny.)

Lukyan: Would be confused about why she wanted a duck, and concerned about keeping it alive during the Nythrian winter, but ultimately put up with it because his family has spent way more money on way weirder things. He wouldn’t pet it though, and would draw the line at allowing it in bed with them. (He also has a pet polar bear, so no right to judge weird pets.)

Tzesar: Thinks it's cute, but will not touch it, and makes sure it stays outside. 

Sentinel: *face palms* “I can’t believe this is what my life has come to.” to MC, “You care about this thing? I guess we have a pet duck now.”

Nax: Feels he has no right to judge given his pet, but is nervous about allowing the duck near Nellie, fearing she’ll eat it. Jokes on him because Duck and Nellie are great friends.

Albien: Is wary of having it in the house, but he’s got a nice lake in the garden it can share with the swans and MC can visit whenever she wants.

Gaderous: He thinks it's cute, and thinks MC holding it is cute. Is more than willing to have it as a full member of the family.

How would each character react to The Last Stand by Sabaton blaring at full volume in the middle of the night?

Ignoring for a moment that the instruments required to play those songs don't exist in world and pretending it would be a recognizable song for them, 

Lukyan: This is me asking, but please don’t. Any time the man is woken up by a loud noise, he immediately assumes its because he’s under attack, so he would jump out of bed, grab his sword, forgoing armor, and run straight to where the MC is, if she’s living in the palace at this point or they’re on the road somewhere. If MC is nowhere near then he’s going straight to his younger sisters. Once he found out it was just a song he would be incredibly relieved, but unable to go back to sleep after. 

Tzesar: Would sleep through it unless he was already awake at which point everyone else grumpily waking up to it would make him realize how late it was, and he’d go to sleep as soon as the commotion was over.

Sentinel: Sentinel does not sleep often, so he’d likely still be awake. If it was a rare moment when he was sleeping, he’d be pissed, and just leave identifying the culprit. He might also assume the music was coming from his dragon companion trying to annoy him instead of being real music. 

Naxok: In all honesty, Nax is likely the one who is blasting Sabaton in the middle of the night. He also typically stays up late, and would likely be awake at whatever time someone plays said song. If it was a rare occasion he happened to be asleep, he would be extremely irritated, but otherwise he’d be jamming also and singing all the words. 

Albien: In true vein of being the only normal member of the cast, Albien would just groan, and pull a pillow over his head to go back to sleep.

Gaderous: Is used to being woken up in the middle of night for emergencies, but would be annoyed that there is not emergency. Also is not a metal fan, and wouldn’t enjoy anyone blaring the song during the day.

In a modern AU who would be offended that Pluto isn’t a planet anymore?

I don’t know why, but I feel like Sentinel would. He’s not someone who would bring it up, but if directly asked, he would defend Pluto’s right to be a planet.

Tzesar would stick with a scientific definition and not think beyond that. Nax would only care about astronomy as it pertains to sailing, and none of the others would care one way or another. Although if it was super important to someone he cared about Albien would champion the cause with them. 

Would they lie to get someone else out of trouble?

Yes: Lukyan, Sentinel, Gaderous, Naxok

No: Tzesar, Albien

How easily could they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

Luk: Short answer is hard. The longer answer is very hard, especially as he gets older. Young Luk doesn't really have a distinction between personal morality and his father's rules, but the more disillusioned he becomes with Emperor Konstantin the stronger moral stances he takes and the harder he walks the line. This is something MC can actually notice about the difference between 23-year-old Lukyan and 13-year-old Luk. 

Tzesar:Most of the time he does what he thinks is right, and is very strong willed, however, if you can present an intelligent argument about why his moral stance is wrong, it'll be fairly easier to change his mind about what is moral, so while it'll be hard to persuade him to act against his morals per say, you could easily convince him to change them.

Sentinel: Not a chance. The man has lived a long time and is very set in his ways.

Nax: Rarely has an issue sticking to his morals. He spends a lot of time with people his culture would consider to be living immoral lifestyles, yet he finds them to be good people, so he questions sometimes. He's more likely to allow others to do things that go against his morals without addressing it than to actually do something that goes against his morals. If actually was convinced to go against his morals it would likely be related to someone on his crew. 

Albien: Being a king has taught him a lot about the importance of having a backbone, especially where morality is concerned. While many kings routinely live amoral lives, Albien has spent a lot of time studying how this behavior impacts people living in the country, and has decided not to be like that. He’s also had some problems impulsively acting on his anger before, and the consequences of that made me a lot sterner about sticking to his morals, even when he’s angry. 

Gaderous: He can very easily be persuaded to act against his morals, and very often does. 

Would any of them perform a “Surprise adoption”?

I thought about taking this one out because the entire question is a reference to my unfinished, unpublic fantasy novel Treason Reassigned where the main character a younger woman who is the apprentice spymaster complains to her male best friend that her mother is pressuring her to quit, so she can get married. He says his mother is pressuring the same and jokingly suggests they get married to get their mothers to leave them alone since neither of them are interested in marriage (at the time of this particular scene.) Then they talk about their plan for what to do when their mothers pressure them to have children, and one of them suggests kidnapping an orphan. (the “surprise adoption” in the question). I’ll leave it in because it’s kind of a funny question. 

Lukyan: Well, kidnapping an orphan is basically what Emperor Konstantin did to MC (depending on how you look at it) so he'd probably be confused why MC wants to kidnap an orphan. He would be very cool about adoption in general, but would be adamantly opposed to the kidnapping aspect because he often felt like he never had a choice in a lot of his life, and would never do that to a child. 

Tzesar: He doesn't really understand the point. Why would you grab a random kid off the street instead of following the legal procedure. It's not that complicated and he has the money and political power to adopt legally and quickly.

Sentinel: His situation would more likely be, he attracted the attention of this kid, who followed him into a potentially dangerous situation that he now feels responsible for until the child is basically his. Or the kid just always wants to talk to him whenever he's in town until he develops an attachment.

Naxok and Albien: I put these two together because their culture has a unique situation as it applies to orphans, and I don’t think it would actually be possible for either of them to “kidnap” an orphan unless they took one from outside their own country, and I don’t see either of them doing that.

Gaderous: He’s be down, but not in an active kidnapping situation, more like I’m going to ignore proper legal procedure because this child needs a home and I can provide it kinda thing. 

How would they view time travel?

See this is such an interesting question because Tempurion actually can time travel, and give the person he’s bonded to that power. It won't come up in game, but it is actually possible. 

Lukyan: Luk would be very wary of it, and it kind of freaks him out a little. 

Tzesar: would think it's the coolest thing in the world, and keep very detailed notes about how it would work. 

Sentinel: Sentinel has seen a lot of harm caused by people trying to make-up for their bad decisions, so he would be alarmed by what people might do with time travel. 

Naxok: Nax lives so much in the moment, I'm not sure he'd care too much unless it was directly impacting him, and then he'd mostly be confused. 

Albien: He'd be interested in the history he could experience, but not really interested in seeing the future. 

Gaderous: Gat... would actually enjoy it if it was more the adventuring type of time travel, but he wouldn't want to see his own future... or past.

If your characters were flavors of Jello, which flavors would they be? Pudding counts too.

Luk: Candy Cane pudding 

Tzesar: Piña Colada jello 

Sentinel: Black Cherry 

Nax: Mixchief Grape Color-Changing 

Albien: Classic Turtle 

Gat:Margarita (is apparently a real Jell-O flavor, who knew)

I looked up the official list of flavors of gelatin and pudding made by Jell-O. And no I will not elaborate.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

About the "if late: give [player] Starbucks: true" ask

What if the complexity of the drink increases if the player is late again and again and again? So the first time the Hermits are late to a meeting, they might get a black coffee, the second time it's a latte, then the latte had a fluffy foam and some cinnamon sprinkled on top, then there is latte art on it... you get the idea

The current leader in the lateness category is Doc. He often forgets about the meetings when he's working on one of his projects. The last coffee that appeared in his hands was a... quad long shot grande in a venti cup half calf double cupped no sleeve salted caramel mocha latte with 2 pumps of vanilla substitute 2 pumps of white chocolate mocha for mocha and substitute 2 pumps of hazelnut for toffee nut half whole milk and half breve with no whipped cream extra hot extra foam extra caramel drizzle extra salt add a scoop of vanilla bean powder with light ice well stirred... he can't even pronounce half of those ingredients, nor he can drink the sugary monstrosity!

(Yes, I had to google "longest starbucks drink order" for this xdd. It doesn't help that I never ordered anything from them either)

At this point, he might as well just stop showing up to meetings at all if he's going to be a couple minutes late. However, the curiosity always wins...can the server get even more complex with it next time? He has to know!

~ Mod Shade

[leiawritesstories]

Familiar Feeling

written for @throneofglassmicrofics using the prompts "Fight or Flight" and "Daylight"

a continuation of Familiar Stranger

Word count: 698

Warnings: some angst, soft ending :)

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tucked into a cozy brick storefront at the corner of Main Street and Fifth Street was Mistward, Aelin's favorite bakery in her hometown. She'd been a regular customer there since she was a child, and the warm, cinnamon-tinged air wrapped around her like one of Emrys the baker's hugs every time she pushed open the bright blue front door. She stood in line behind an adorable older couple, waiting to step up to the counter and order the chocolate hazelnut croissant and iced latte that had been her staple for years, when the bells on the front door chimed and all six foot four of Rowan Whitethorn ducked into the suddenly-too-small space.

Her chattering brain went silent, along with the hum of the bakery ambience, as her eyes crashed into his with all the force of the Pacific during a winter storm. Her spine flashed hot and then cold, a surge of adrenaline kicking her fight or flight instinct into high gear, and she was all but poised to take off like an Olympic sprinter when a warm, soft voice broke through the haze.

"Aelin, dear!" Emrys caught her shaking hands, his dark eyes crinkling with his sunny smile. "I've missed you."

She beamed and hugged him, his comforting scent of sugar and spices grounding her. "I've missed you too, Emrys."

He flicked a single, sharp glance at the man who remained frozen just inside the doorway. "Something tells me he's missed you as well."

"He doesn't get to miss me." Only a whisper, but sharper than a razor blade.

Emrys simply nodded. "I'll get your usual, dear. On the house today."

She thanked him and, carefully avoiding Rowan's presence, crossed the bakery and sat down at a weathered wooden table next to the expansive bay windows. Warm golden sunlight spilled across the old, smooth-worn oak surface, early summer daylight breaking through the morning fog, and she brushed her fingers across the tabletop, drawing in the hint of warmth.

Her coffee and croissant were set gently on the table, and she glanced up to find Rowan beside her table, nudging her plate towards her, a steaming mug in his free hand. "Emrys had me bring this for you. My name is Rowan."

"I..." Her brows wrinkled in confusion. "I'm Aelin."

"Lovely to meet you, Aelin." He dipped his head at the empty seat across from her. "May I?"

Reining in her flight instinct, she nodded. "Why did you just introduce yourself to me as if we don't know each other?"

Shadows flickered across his face. "You said we were strangers." He set down his mug--Americano, one sugar, the same coffee he'd been drinking since they were sixteen. "So I did what any stranger would do when he sees a beautiful woman."

A long-buried, achingly familiar feeling tugged on Aelin's heart at the sincerity in Rowan's words. "Okay." She sipped from her coffee, willing the beverage to give her strength. "Why are you here, Rowan? I thought you promised to never come back."

"We both know I could never stay away." Deep green met sunlit turquoise again, both stares open, searching. "Aelin, I...I was every kind of idiot, and you're right. I should have tried to--I should have tried."

Slowly, she nodded. "I was...in a difficult place, mentally and emotionally, and I've made a lot of progress since then, but I know now that nothing would have changed." She twisted the hammered gold band around her right forefinger. "I come home every summer."

"I know." He laughed sheepishly at her incredulous expression, a coral flush dusting his cheeks. "Uh...I might have asked my mom to tell me if you came back."

"You little snoop," she teased, and the mischievous humor that glinted in her eyes warmed his heart like a shot of pure sunlight.

His fleeting grin washed over her like the tide. "I could never let you go, Ae."

She reached across the table and laid her hands atop his, stilling his tapping fingers. "Then don't."

Her figure was framed in a golden wash of daylight as she leaned across the table and touched her lips to his, softer than the brush of morning mist against his skin.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

[kurogira]

🌹 saiwa !! dynamic include yapper gf x listener bf, overthinker gf x stop overthinking bf, lowkey we r both nerds who study a lot so. it’s a semi-strangers to friends to lovers and uni au!!! so we met back in high school whenever karasuno had matches w seijoh but never interacted that much but we knew of each other, then during first year of uni we’re both in the same classes and coincidentally the same labs as well…first time we fr interact is in a cafe near uni!!! which we both go to during the same hours of the day to study bc we basically have the same schedule and its usually a quiet coffee shop that no one knows of and we sit kind of far apart and then one day hes a bit late and idk it got really busy that day so he came in and there was absolutely no seats and he turned around to leave but i felt bad and called out for him and told him he can sit w me and then yeah our relationship blossomed from there…..the aesthetics include: late autumn, doodling on his notes :3, hands intertwined, lots of study seshs, matching bracelets, soft forehead flicks

OKAY THIS IS TOO LONG SORRY i love him so bad !!!!!

i love you saiwa always n forever!!! you two are the cutest bunch to ever exist ^^)

TOP NOTES

toasted hazelnut: cozy, warm, familiar & resembles the comfort iwa brings into your overthinking heart 🥺💗

mandarin peel: you as a scent!!! bright, talkative, full of sparkle ✨ this scent is sweet, juicy & zesty. your presence is an unforgettable one, and iwaizumi knows it too >:)

clary sage: earthy, peppery, herbal — i call this the ✨ nerd scent ✨ which is fitting for your relationship. it gives the vibe of textbooks, study sessions, it’s also a really grounding scent !!!

HEART NOTES

cashmere woods: smooth, musky, cozy & smells like warm fabrics … does that make sense? it better otherwise i’m gonna sound crazy BYEE. think of this scent when you wear his hoodies 🙇‍♀️

iris butter: floral, earthy, powdery — i like to think that introverts that feel really deeply would absolutely love this scent. it’s romantic, elegant, it feels like composure in a sense? when you’re scribbling hearts onto a page in your notebook … SIGHS!!!

tonka bean: warm, creamy vanilla with hints of almond & cinnamon!!!! a cafe in a bottle, but more romantic + sensual ^^)

BASE NOTES

sandalwood: a soothing, eternal scent, very creamy & milky — it holds the scents together like glue :3 it’s a backbone, reflecting iwa’s role in your relationship #heissmitten!!!

white musk: light, clean, this is a synthetic note that was made to mimic the clean scent of skin — which is why this scent feels very intimate. it’s a secret softness that you don’t share with anyone else, and you two treasure these moments dearly! 🫂

vanilla bean: i associate vanilla with comfort and affection, it’s not too flashy or loud .. just pure sweetness 😖💘💘