#lavender cafe art

[the-lavender-cafe]

been watching insane amounts of smosh recently and knew what had to be done.

[ellie-makes-mbs]

name moodboard for “sophie” for anonymous

[hitechlatte]

So when I need a mental break from writing, I've been working on a thing...

It's totally not inspired by the short story the reader is writing in Prince Charming's Jacket, where Donnie- I mean "Derek" is on the run from the FBI and there's some romance with a coffee shop owner.

And you totally don't play as said coffee shop owner.

Totally not.

;P

I may eventually post a demo if I ever get it to a playable state. It's super back burner right now, since I'm working on PCJ, but I'll keep y'all posted <3.

[thatonesalmonlingnamedspike]

oops! all memes

[stanart4clearskin]

stalker! art x reader

art had NO intention in stalking you because that would just so creepy and so wrong

his intentions started completely innocent when he found out the local cafe you go to every morning and sat in a back booth so he could catch a glimpse of you

all he wanted to do was stare at you because you were just so pretty and it wasn’t with malicious intent so he didn’t see anything wrong in his actions

eventually he ended up getting a job at the cafe you frequent because he needed something to do during offseason (or atleast that’s what he told himself)

the first day you came up to the register to order your drink he almost died. god you were gorgeous and you were right there. he wasn’t even listening when you ordered your drink—too busy staring at your lips—but it’s okay. he already knew your order anyways

he almost stopped breathing until you asked him if he was okay because he had gone a little pale

at night he’ll follow you as you walk back to your dorm after your shift at the library because he just wants to make sure you’re safe!

he goes to watch all your matches because he just likes to watch tennis (it totally has nothing to do with your cute tennis outfit that you prance around the court in. and has nothing to do with your backhand that nearly gives him a boner for some odd reason)

sometimes he’ll stand outside your dorm watching you from your window as he study because he likes the face you make when you’re concentrating. it’s all so innocent really

besides you coming into the cafe, art never really had a chance to talk to you in a regular conversation so he finds out what halloween party you’re going to and even finds out what costume you’re wearing so he can wear a similar one

he stands there with his teammates as they play beer pong but his eyes scan the party for you. he finds you standing in the living room talking with a few of your friends when you excuse yourself to go grab another drink in the kitchen

art leaves his friends and head to the kitchen as-well, ditching his full bottle of beer along the way

the kitchen is empty so it’s just you two and art manages to strike up conversation

“hey aren’t you that girl that orders the lavender matcha every day at the cafe?” he’ll ask, walking over to you as you rummage the fridge

“oh yeah, you’re the hot barista!” you say, a little drunk and lips loose. “shit sorry i didn’t mean to say that” you apologize profusely, the apples of your cheeks flushing pink and your hands fidgeting awkwardly with the beer bottle in your hand

“hot barista?” he teases, feeling his confidence strengthen and he allows himself to be bolder

“um yeah my friends and i go there so we kinda just dubbed you hot barista because we didn’t know your name” you say lamely, hoping he won’t think you’re a massive weirdo

instead he grins his signature smirk and you feel your knees give out a little so you subtly grab the counter behind you to steady yourself

“you could’ve just asked me my name y’know” he points out, his tone teasing

after introducing yourselves and 10 minutes of small talk, you find yourself sloppily making out with art in a random bedroom in the frat house

eventually you two leave the party and head back to his dorm

as art goes down on you you can’t help but think how amazing it is that he knows everything that you like. little do you know, art has been watching you every time you’re making out with some dude at a party to see what makes you moan or if you would’ve looked out your window when you invited a guy over to your dorm, you would’ve seen art standing outside watching

[theambitiouswoman]

Ways to Add Luxury to Your Life

1. Stop saying “you can’t afford it”

2. Walk through or stop for a drink at a luxurious hotel

3. Create your own luxurious evening routine

4. Create your own luxurious morning routine

5. Schedule in something fancy

6. Wear your favorite handbag and shoes

7. Find your signature scent

8. Do your hair and make up

9. Shop your wardrobe

10. Choose your top 3 must do things everything

11. Cook from scratch

12. Drink champagne

13. Buy silk linens for your bed

14. Celebrate your wins

15. Personalized stationary

16. Visit museums and art galleries

17. Shop at farmers markets

18. Eat organic and fresh foods

19. Go on hikes

20. Play uplifting music

21. Plant a vegetable garden

22. Use lavender pouches in your drawers

23. Exercise daily

24. Only drink quality tea and coffee

25. Wear pretty/silk lingerie and cute lounge wear

26. Have a creative hobby

27. Visit the spa and get facials regularly

28. Buy fresh flowers

29. Use quality skincare and makeup

30. Take hot baths

31. Buy essential oils

32. Treat yourself

33. Add lemon to your water

34. Go to a high end gym or Lounge

35. Read a book before bed

36. Stop saving your nice things for later. Use them now

37. Use an exfoliator for your body

38. Stretching and yoga

39. Go to an artisan cafe for fresh croissants

40. Make your own dressings for your foods

41. Clean your house and your car

42. Take a detox shot in the morning

43. Treat yourself to a professional blow dry

44. Nails always done

45. Bake fresh cookies

46. Watch a classic and elegant film like Breakfast at Tiffany’s

47. Have a full feminine luxurious shower routine

48. Clean your makeup brushes and arrange them like a beauty counter for the next time you use them

49. Learn about art and wines

50. Decorate your home like a 5 star hotel

51. Use a pillow spray

52. Host a dinner party

53. If possible, hire a chef or cleaner to help you

[yourmomsushi]

Poly 141 x Baker Reader Warnings : MDNI, fluff? , suggested poly!

“It’s too…crispy?” I hear from the customer in the corner, making me groan mentally. I had always fumbled with making croissants , especially the ones were they’re supposed to be soft and chewy, not rock hard like the fucking earth. I fidget with a strand of hair, my two pretty pink lavender bows are trimmed to perfection and dangle in my hair aimlessly. I tug on my white apron, when I hear the doorbell chime, turning my head to the direction of the sound, I see buff shoulders like they were made to carry damsels in distress and the fucking world. The man wore military green and black, with a vest over as he turned to my direction, his hair shaved except the mohawk he sported so confidently. I fumbled with my name tag. Meanwhile, I see a man with a scurry beard and hairy arms that are visible due to rolled up sleeves of a plaid white shirt, another man had rich creamy skin, his face and body literally glowing as he lays a arm on another man, who seems so damn mysterious, covering his face with a balaclava that is in the form of a skull, dark war paint smudged against his eyes. I open my mouth and start the usual lines of the average customers, expect its much more softer  than usual, which I don't even notice,

“Hi! Welcome to Bun”s Bakery! What can I get you?” I say, fixing my name tag : Bun : short for the name Bunnie. 

“Hi. So we're gonna start on one tea, 3 cups of dark espresso, and one blueberry muffin.” The man with fuzzy black hair says, with his arm slang over the Skull face-covered man, whom I’m surprised didn’t shove him away. 

“Okay! Your total is 10.56$” I say with a smile.

After the payments are done, the group of men find a table in the corner of the cafe, taking in the scene before them. Art pieces hanging around, antiques and sculptures, it was like a hectic history and art, but you couldn’t help but awe at it softly. I turn in just then, carrying their drinks and warmed blueberry muffin on a small white tray. 

“Bunnie, right?” the man with the overgrown mohawk says, eyeing my name tag with curiosity. 

I nod with a smile “and you lot must be?” I say with a genuine smile for once these days. 

“I’m Johnny,” He says, reaching over and pointing at the man with the skull mask, “That’s Simon.” He then points to the prettiest man out of all of them. “That’s Kyle”. He finally then points to the oldest man of the lot, with a slightly overgrown beard. “And, that's our captain, John.” 

I smile. “Pleasure to meet you all, you guys are new here?”

John smiles and nods “It’s just temporary for a few months, nothing permanent.”

I smile again, giving them extra napkins and refills, “Well, if you need anything, let me know, you know how hectic Italy can get, am i right?” I give an awkward chuckle and smile. 

Throughout their stay, I hear the man give hushed whispers to each other until finally, the skull guy, simon comes up to me with a grunt and says : 

“Others wanted to give you their number, here.” He tugs a note with all their phone numbers in there, he grunts again and walks back, his voice was gruff and almost - kind?

I give a small smile and wave as they leave the building, my heart flutters softly, new friends, new starts.

So much for burnt croissants I guess.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 116 (Volunteering As a Family)

After Ash's run-in with his cousin Michael, Heather and Conrad looked for a way to teach him some much-needed empathy. Heather made a plan with her good friend, Dylan Richards, which would bring them to San Myshuno to help at a shelter where Dylan had volunteered for years. But first, Conrad made breakfast while Lavender watched him intently with a bowl of cereal.

Heather found her sister doing laundry. "You sure you don't mind spending the day with Lavender while we're in the city?"

"Of course not! We're gonna play in the snow for a bit and then we're going over to the Goths to spend the afternoon. I really need to catch up with Lydia, and Lava can hang with little Jag."

"Just make sure to watch her around Obsidian. She gets so excited around animals, and a crow won't appreciate her squeeze hugs." The dryer beeped beside them. "Thanks for doing laundry, but I really don't want you feeling like a maid or a babysitter. How's the job search coming?"

"Great, actually! Conrad told Alexander I could help with research and analysis for his charity campaigns, so we're going to work out a schedule this afternoon. I'll probably start next week."

"That's great, Hazel, but Brindleton Bay doesn't even have a mayor. I already adopted him! Come to think of it, I don't even know who keeps the power on in this town."

She assumed the answer her own question as soon as she voiced it. George Brindleton, most likely.

"Alex thinks he could be the first real mayor Brindleton Bay's had in decades."

Heather smiled. She didn't like thinking of their friend Alex tangling with George Brindleton. If the town had no real mayor, he probably wanted it that way, but she didn't want to sound unsupportive. "Mayor Alex Goth has a nice ring to it!"

Heather, Ash, and Conrad left Lavender and Hazel playing in the snow with Gord. When they made it to the Spice District, they met up with Dylan and her daughter, Pearl, outside the graffiti-covered Soup Kitchen. As Henford-on-Bagley's grocery deliverer in her teens, Dylan had witnessed food insecurity firsthand, and she wanted to instill a passion for helping others in her own children.

The Soup Kitchen was a welcome place for unhoused sims and volunteers of all ages. A small cafe on the site served the public, with all proceeds going to the shelter. The industrial space was also a place where creativity could run wild - they encouraged their residents to create art to beautify the walls so the place felt less like a converted canning factory and more like a place they could feel at home.

Seven-year-old Ash walked around the main room in awe, where beautifully-painted murals decorated the walls and floors. This was a side of San Myshuno he'd never seen before, nothing like the stark glass and steel of his family's Uptown penthouse a thousand feet up across the bay.

Ash loved the art, but his eyes were drawn to the beds. The room was packed with them - some small enough for Lavender and Bridgette. He was surprised to think a toddler might be unhoused. It's way too cold for Lava and Bridgie to sleep outside, he thought.

Dylan showed them around the cafe, and Ash even helped the baristas deliver food to various patrons. Heather helped serve while Conrad prepared ingredients for the shelter's dinner that evening. "Are you sure you don't want help prepping the cottage pie?"

"I've got this. I thought you were keeping an eye on Ash?"

"He went upstairs with Pearl. I think he might be meeting some of the people who use the shelter. Dylan says there's a kids' room."

Upstairs, Pearl introduced Ash to Zacharius Beard and his mother, Anjali, who had been staying at the shelter since Anjali had left her husband. "Why did you leave?" Ash wondered innocently. "Was he not nice?"

Zacharius shook his head. "Daddy's mean," he insisted. Ash opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Pearl discreetly shook her head behind the Beards.

"Are you watching a movie, Zach?" she cut in.

"I was going to. Did you want to join me? Mom can stay for a bit, but then she has to finish a mural out back by the tents."

"People live in tents here?"

"Fewer sleep outside in the winter, but some don't want to stay inside with kids," explained Anjali. "But they can still come here to eat and shower whenever they need to."

"Do you watch a lot of movies?"

"The movies I like, I watch a lot," Zach said. "But I don't always have someone to watch them with me. There aren't a lot of other kids here right now. Last time Pearl was here she tried to teach me to plié, but I'm not very good at ballet."

"No one's better at ballet than Pearl," said Ash.

"I'm only good for my age. So far," Pearl insisted with a confident smile. "But one day I'll dance Swan Lake with the SanMy Ballet Company."

Anjali smiled. "I have no doubt you will, Miss Pearl. But I hope you'll all excuse me while I get painting."

"Did your mom do all the murals here?" Ash wondered.

"Most were already here, but she's an artist."

"I could do art on my craft table and bring it another time," Ash said thoughtfully. "Or can you do crafts here?"

"If we get enough donated art stuff, we can, but craft supplies get lost, toddlers eat the crayons, and most of the cafe money goes to food and stuff we need, not stuff we like," explained Zach. "We're not allowed to use the mural paint."

Downstairs, Conrad and Heather were chatting in the kitchen while a hearty cottage pie baked in the oven. "It smells incredible, Conrad. What ingredients did you use?"

"I could tell you that, but this recipe is a Gordon family secret. You've got to marry in to get it."

"There's still snow on the ground," she reminded him. "No coats, and no one freezing to death! That is the least I could hope for at our wedding."

He laughed. "Then the secret ingredients stay with me. For now."

"Would Ben know it? Maybe I'll try to ask him with Mrs. Goth's seance table," she teased, and with a sudden hiss, the power inside The Soup Kitchen went out. The lights in the large kitchen went dark, the electric stove stopped baking, and the movie upstairs shut off with a click.

"What happened?" asked Pearl, looking around fearfully and noting every light in the building was out.

"Power outages happen a lot," said Zach. "My mom says the building should have better wiring, but it's too expensive. But sometimes when the power goes out, we don't get warm dinner. Just snacks."

Listening to Zach, Ash stood with conviction. "We don't need the power on to make dinner. I have an idea!" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

ICYMI Cozy Winterfest Xtras: Winterfest With Bella Goth & Happy Holidays from the Nesbitt-Landgraab-Gordon Household

WCIF Soup Kitchen: This phenomenal lot by Fejuna in the Sims 4 Gallery. It's stunning and so detailed and the setting helped me write the story, so thank you a million times to Fejuna, and to every builder who makes my gameplay time so much more fun by sharing such incredible creations.

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

[akuma-lmklover]

RedSon and MK +SpicyNoodles HCs!

1. RedSon-20-22

RedSon has cute little bull ears hidden by glamours, the short (yet very soft) fur the same blazing red as his hair. Accompanying the ears are horns, being a few inches long, but thick and sturdy. They're a creamy, bone white.

He has an extensive self care routine. Expensive shampoos, conditioner, body scrubs.. All of which are either scentless, or lavender. Helps soothe after a long day.

Due to his routine, his hair and skin are soft to the touch. He's quite proud of how well he takes care of himself. He puts a lot of pride in his outward appearance, and spends a few hours every other day taking care of his hair.

He has a small waist, which is normally hidden by his signature red jacket. (MK swears he can touch his fingers around it.) His despite his thin waist, he's quite muscular. He works out and trains often. He has to be able to assist his father in world domination, after all!

Loves cooking, but rarely decides to. Often is too busy burying himself in work, or is being dragged around by that Noodle Boy and Dragon Horse Girl. When he does cook, he also plates the food amazingly. It was a hobby when he was younger.

Speaking of work, he enjoys making complex gadgets. Phone from scratch? Right on it, and it's better than any on the market. TV? Already done. He also managed to make a VR headset once, but it broke after Mei found it. He was seething for hours..

Back to his bull features, he has a tail. Sort of like a cats in a way, it moves and reacts to his emotions. Swishing lazily when he's relaxed, still and ridged when scared or shocked. Lashing from side to side when he's angry. Limp and tucked between his legs when he cries.

RedSon's bad habits include forgetting meals as he works, scrubbing at his skin too hard in the shower when he's mad.. Sometimes tearing a few thin layers of skin. Rarely, but still happens. He often runs his hand through his fluffy hair when stressed, which on it's own is okay.. It's bad when he grips and pulls, but he never pulls hair out. Not much anyways.

2. MK/Qi Xiaotian-20-21

Unlike RedSon, MK has a frankly.. Shit self care routine. No skincare, yet somehow has clear skin.. Cheap, drugstore shampoo, no conditioner. But yet, it works for him. Yeah, his hair isn't very soft, and has dead ends.. But it cleans him, no? His bathroom has a few odd bottles of some product Mei gave him that he rarely, if ever, uses.

His monkey form is still unstable, and he avoids it like the plague. Yet, he often wakes up with monkey ears and a fluffy tail, covered in soft fur. He hates it, but keeps it to himself. It's a bad habit of his by now.

Is much smarter than he seems, and is quite skilled when it comes to art. Acts dumb to lighten the mood. He often sits at a cafe during his free time, or any local restaurants and draws people he sees walking by, or food from the menu, sometimes the inside of the building, or the sight of the street outside the window.

He used to draw RedSon before they even became allies. He shamefully hides a thick sketchbook of RedSon doodles under his bed. He uses a mix of cartoony styles and more realistic ones. He enjoys adding little cartoony details to more realistic sketches.

MK, while he does enjoy his job, finds his breaks to be too short, but doesn't want to bother nor burden Pigsy to extend them. Once again tying into his bad habit of keeping his feelings to himself.

He hasn't told anyone but his dads, Pigsy and Tang, Sun Wukong and Macaque, about his real name, Qi Xiaotian. He knows he should be able to trust Mei, and feels bad for not telling her, but chooses to keep it to himself regardless.

He's a bleeding heart, always sympathizing with others. He listens to his friend's problem, yet bottles up and ignores all of his. That will totally never come back to bite him. Never. It can't, he's MK, the monkie kid!

Can cook, but gets distracted. Often burns his meals. Though, when it's not burnt to a black chunk of coal, his food is amazing. ..For instant noodles, chicken nuggets and other easy foods, that is.

Monkeys are touchy. MK is a monkey. So, he's quite touchy. One of his love languages is definitely physical touch. Whether it be sitting close to a friend or holding his partner close and snuggling in bed, he enjoys it all.

Relationship!!

[Pre-Dating]

MK likes to draw, that much is obvious. It's just a hobby he enjoys. Hm? Noo, he doesn't still have that sketchbook with only RedSon.. There's another. Whether he knew it or not, he adored drawing RedSon. Secretly snapping a quick photo to use as a reference, drawing and stashing his second sketchbook of RedSon under his bed with the first.

RedSon, whenever he would visit MK, would almost always use the bathroom, as one does. Seeing MK's... Atrocious lack of any good shampoos or soaps made him cringe and grimace. So, whenever he visited, he replaced MK's products, one by one. Switching out cheap for fancy and expensive.

Neither realized they had begun to court one another, MK through buying RedSon food and little gifts often, and RedSon through switching out MK's things for newer, better stuff. His shampoo, his ragged old pillow.. He even went through the trouble of getting MK a whole new fridge. He used to just have a mini fridge, but now his kitchen has a full fridge. Don't ask how RedSon got it in. Or about the scuffs on MK's windowsill.

[Beginnings]

MK had been the one to shoot the awkward text, asking RedSon out on a date. 'heyyy, red!'

'just wanted to know if you wanted to go out for lunch' 'totally not a date haha' 'unless a date is okay'

He was worried for the reply, curled up in the blankets as he drew, waiting. '...' 'Sure, noodlebrain. I'm paying though. You're dirt poor.' was the reply that he got.

The date was awkward and silent at first, until MK sneakily stole one of RedSon's fries, and RedSon stole a sip of MK's drink in return. More food snatching, then a walk around Megapolis.

A few dates later, and as it gets less and less awkward, both of their courtings gets more and more bold. Fancy jewlery from RedSon, a short, stolen kiss on the cheek before a retreat into his apartment from MK.. It was truly adorable.

-A/N-

Thanks for reading this hc list! I'll be writing a story on ao3 sometime so i'll link that when the first chapter is out :3 i am in highschool, so updates mayy be a tad slow but i will not abandon a story i begin! i will try not to make you guys wait for chapters for too long, trust me i know how annoying it is

i take a lott of inspo, and will prob continue to, from PittedPeaches on ao3! i recommend you read their stuff! their spicynoodles stuff is soo cute. i will take requests! any lmk chars is okay! oneshots or hcs!

[the-lavender-cafe]

my entry for the @skywerse DTIYS!! i had sooo much fun with this one and am super proud of how it turned out :)

decided to add vtuber grizzly instead of dm grizzly because i needed an excuse to draw that absolutely gorgeous design again

the original post is absolutely gorgeous, i hope i did it justice!

[lvndrfucks]

Your co-stars, Jacob and Xolo, asked you to be a guest star on their podcast, Lone Lobos. You had made yourself comfortable in the corner of the couch with a blanket over your legs. You had shared stories so far of how you started acting and what it’s been like on Cobra Kai.

“Okay, we’re halfway into the episode,” Xolo started. “Now we gotta get into the juicy stuff. Tell us about your relationship.”

A laugh sprang out at the sudden topic change. “What do you wanna know?”

“Well, you’re dating someone who’s in quite a famous band. How did you two meet?”

Your hum echoed into the microphone. “We met at a social event. His band was playing and I had already been a fan beforehand, so I was already freaking out a bit. I was able to go backstage and meet them. But at the time, he actually had a girlfriend.”

Both boys oohed.

“So, you were a homewrecker?” Jacob jested.

“No! Oh, my God, it wasn’t like that. I was just good friends with all of them,” you continued. “They’ve invited me to their shows before and we’ve hung out in groups. But, when they did break up, I was his shoulder to cry on.”

“So, you were manifesting?”

The three of you started laughing again.

“No, because I did ask her about it when I realized that I had feelings for him. We weren’t close, but she was still a good friend and I didn’t want it to seem like I was waiting for them to breakup,” you explained. “She was totally understanding of it.”

“And if she wasn’t,” Xolo questioned.

“Then, I’d be single and sad.” You chuckled a bit.

“How did you guys know you liked each other? Or was it like you had feelings for him, but you didn’t know if he had feelings for you?”

“Um, I didn’t think he liked me like that until he flew down to visit on set for the first time.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Jacob exclaimed.

You nodded. “Yeah, he came down and I was thinking it was a little odd he came by himself. I even asked him about it and he was like ‘oh, everyone else was busy and I wanted to surprise you.’ That’s when I thought does he like me? Because no one has ever done that for me before. Even on set, Mary and Peyton were saying that. My friend back home was too.

“And he was there while we were wrapping up, so we even flew back to L.A. together. Even afterwards, we still spent a majority of our time together.”

“How did he ask you out,” Xolo asked. “I’m getting so invested. I don’t think you’ve ever told me this story.”

“I don’t think I’ve told anyone except my best friend,” you said.

“Did he sing you a song?” Jacob guessed. “He brought you to the beach and whipped out a guitar like in Barbie.”

You covered your mouth while laughing. “If he did do that, he gets a pass.” The boys’ laughter followed afterwards. “No, he took me to an art museum, then we went to eat at a cafe afterwards.”

“That is the most cliché date I’ve ever heard of.”

“Hey! I like cliché things. It was very sweet and we both had a good time.”

“Did he bring you flowers?” Xolo glanced off camera. “For the audience’s knowledge, we actually have him here watching this live.”

Cole had been listening the whole time with a grin on his face.

“Do you wanna come say hi?” You offered. He stood up to stick his head in the camera and wave before sitting back in his original spot. “That was my boyfriend. He’s in a very underground indie band. You guys probably don’t know them.”

Jacob scoffed to add onto the joke. “Yeah. You’ve probably never seen them play in arenas, or festivals like Coachella or Lollapalooza. Just small venues.”

“But to answer your question,” you referred back to Xolo, “he did bring me flowers. They were lavender colored roses. And when he asked me to be his girlfriend, he got me red carnations.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Xolo gushed. “I’m getting butterflies.”

“Don’t the different colors mean something?” Jacob added.

You looked at Cole curiously who pursed his lips, trying to hide his grin. There was a faint hue of pink on his cheeks.

“Lavender roses can represent love at first sight. People that are in love or adore their partners will find a lavender rose to be the perfect symbol to show their true feelings,” Xolo read from his phone. “And red carnations symbolize deep love. It is said that the deep red petals of the red carnation represent a beating heart that is filled with love too.”

The boys awed.

“Wait, stop because I’ll cry.” You giggled and looked at Cole. “I didn’t know that. I thought you got them because they were just pretty.” The boy simply shrugged.

“That’s so cute and wholesome, though,” Xolo said. “No one’s ever gotten me meaningful flowers.”

Jacob looked at him in offense. “I picked a daisy from the ground for you one time. I think that’s romantic.”

“Yeah, but we were at a gas station.”

[hitechlatte]

Adding espressos to my coffee shop game! Any other cafe drinks you'd like to see?

[arvandus]

The Art of Looking (Sakura x f!OC)

This is a drabble for the lovely @shhroomer featuring her OC, Kyouka Fujiwara! Thank you so much for your Gaza donation,and I hope you enjoy this little ficlet! It ended up going over the WC, but it was entirely worth it. :)

CW: None; just pure fluff

WC: 1,277

Sakura tried to pretend he didn’t notice, even though his eyes saw everything, his ears heard everything.  Her smile, her laughter, the soft scratch of her pencil against the paper.

“Hey, how about this??” Nirei said.  He held his arms up in a muscle pose, his face comically serious.

Fujiwara giggled, her hand covering her mouth. The pencil was still between her fingers, the graphite painted along the edge of her hand.

Hiragi put his hand on Nirei’s head and ruffled his hair roughly.  “Idiot, if you’re gonna pose like that in front of a cute girl, then you better have the muscles to back it up!”

“Hiragiiii!!” Nirei whined.

“Besides, you already got your picture drawn! Let someone else have a turn!!”

Shugishita grunted his agreement with a frown and a nod as he leaned back against the booth with his arms crossed.

“How about Sakura?” Offered Suo with a small smile.  “She hasn’t drawn him, yet…”

Sakura froze, the hot flush of embarrassment washing over him as his eyes met Fujiwara’s. Lavender, framed in dark lashes, and was that the hint of a blush across her cheeks??

Ahh, so cute…

“Do you want me to draw you?” She asked.

Yes. Yes, he did.  But his embarrassment forced different words from his mouth.

“N-no!!” The word came out louder than he intended, and now his face was on fire.  All he wanted was the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

Fujiwara’s eyes widened slightly.  “O-oh, okay…”

Just then, Sakura felt a whack along the back of his head. He cursed and looked up to see Tachibana glaring down at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t be a jerk,” she muttered.

“I’m not!” Sakura protested. 

He looked back at Fujiwara, an apology on his lips, but his jaw clamped shut when he realized she was now drawing Shugishita.  Jealousy thickened beneath his skin, but Sakura said nothing.  Instead, he settled into a silent pout as he sipped at his drink.

The time passed, as jokes and conversation flowed, as Fujiwara drew each of the Bofurin boys.  She even managed to sneak in a sketch of Tachibana, who blushed and thanked her.

One by one, each person got a sketch of themselves.  Everyone except for Sakura.

He guessed he deserved it… he said no, after all, and the look in Fujiwara’s eyes… did he hurt her feelings?

Damn it, he was such an idiot!

As the hour got late, the others began to leave.  Nirei left first to return home and have dinner with his family.  Then Hiragi left with Shugishita to go check in with Ume.  Now it was only Suo, Sakura, Fujiwara, and Tachibana.  Fujiwara and Tachibana were deep in their own discussion at the counter, and Sakura watched from the corner of his eye as he pretended to be interested in his phone. Time slowed, the minutes ticking by.

The weight of Suo’s hand on Sakura’s shoulder returned his attention.  The young man stared down at him with an enigmatic gaze and soft smile.

“I’m heading out,” he said, his voice quiet, as if it were meant only for Sakura’s ears.  “You’ll stay and walk her home, yes?”

“Eh?”

“Fujiwara,” he nodded toward her in explanation. “Ume will be here soon to take Tachibana home, and Fujiwara shouldn’t walk home by herself. Besides,” Suo’s hand squeezed Sakura’s shoulder slightly and his smile widened. “It’d be a nice way to apologize for earlier.”

Sakura flushed and his lip jutted out into a pout.  “Yeah, yeah. I was already gonna do it, y’know.”

Suo’s grip relaxed and he gave his friend a pat. “You’re a good man, Sakura.”

Suo gave his goodbyes and left.  It made the cafe feel that much emptier, and Sakura that much more aware that he was the only one left lingering.  Both Fujiwara and Tachibana looked at him, and he blushed red again as he averted his eyes to his phone, his thumb scrolling but his eyes not really seeing.

Tachibana leaned over the counter and whispered something into Fujiwara’s ear, and the girl blushed.

“O-oh,” she muttered softly, just barely loud enough for Sakura’s ears to catch.  “Really??”

Tachibana nodded, and Sakura felt the tips of his ears burn.  Still, he stayed rooted to his seat, pretending not to notice.

A moment later, Fujiwara was standing next to him, her sketchbook clutched tightly to her chest.

“Um, Sakura...” she started.

Sakura looked up at her through his bangs, his heterochromatic eyes pinning her.  He was quiet, waiting for her to speak, because he didn’t trust himself to not say something stupid again.

“Would... would you walk me home?” she asked quickly, the words rushing from her mouth. Her hands tightened around her sketchbook as if she were bracing herself for a no.

Sakura stood up and put his phone away into his pocket. “Of course I will.  Why do you think I’m still here?”

Fujiwara’s lavender eyes widened, and her cheeks dusted pink. She stared at him, stunned for a moment, and he stared back down at her.  For the briefest moment, it was as if the world around them fell away, leaving only the two of them. And despite the way it made Sakura’s heart race, a secret part of him also didn’t mind...

But then the door jingled as it opened, and they both looked towards it to see Ume entering.

“Good eveniiinnnngg!!” he said cheerily.  “Is my wonderful Tachibana ready to go??”

Tachibana rolled her eyes as she grabbed her coat.  “Took you long enough...”

They left the café together, and Tachibana and Ume went one way, waving their goodbyes.  Sakura began to walk the other direction to lead Fujiwara home, but halted when he realized she wasn’t following him.

He turned back and looked at her with a furrowed brow.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I just... there’s something I want to give you before I forget...” she said.

Then she opened her sketchbook and handed him a paper.  He took it from her and stared down at it to see his own face, illuminated in the yellow glow of the streetlight.  His face wasn’t drawn from the front like all of the others, but from the side, as if she’d drawn him without him looking, without him even knowing.  His expression was calm, the likeness done with such care that it made a warmth spread from within his chest.

“I know you said you didn’t want one,” she explained, her eyes downcast, “but... well... it didn’t feel right not to make you one too.”

Sakura was silent as he stared at it. He glanced at her, then looked back to the artwork of him.

Fujiwara shuffled her feet in embarrassment.  “I mean, you don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it—”

“I love it,” he interjected. 

He froze, his heart racing at his confession. Ugh, that was probably too much, too obvious...

But then Fujiwara’s shoulders relaxed, her grip on her sketchbook loosening, and a warm smile spread on her lips. “Really? You do?”

Sakura stared at her happy face, and for the first time in the entire evening, he felt as if he’d finally done something right.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah, I do.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she smiled.

Sakura gave a half laugh and put his hand on the crown of her black hair.  “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

The rest of the walk home was quiet.  But the air was no longer thick between them, and their bodies stood a little bit closer than before, shoulders barely brushing against each other as they enjoyed the solitude of each other’s company.

Author's Note: If you enjoy my writing and would like me to write a drabble for you, pleas consider joining the fics for gaza event!

[ccinos-cat-cafe]

Introduction ;;

Ccino's Cat Cafe ; A blog that focuses on character design, fashion, and a whole lot of Undertale ships ..

Cavern ; An aesthetic fanatic who loves story telling, character arcs and dynamics

Art Requests are always open!! Feel free to suggest anything UT/UTMV related!

Have any questions? Ask them in the ask box!! I have many characters and many Alternate Multiverses to share <3

Things to Know ;

As someone who is 18-, I'd advise any strictly 18+ accounts not to follow me.

I might post gore, romanticized toxic ships (in a way), and slightly suggestive media ... any of that will be under cuts with their appropriate warnings

I don't have explicit DNIs, I'm fine with likes/reposts, but I do have a list of people who shouldn't FOLLOW me, otherwise you will be blocked ;

Pro-Israel Government

Zoophiles

Pedophiles

Bigots (Racists, homophobes, ablests, etc,)

Lolicons/Shotacons

I'm strong with my opinions, and I don't change them for anyone unless it's an ACTUAL issue.

QnA ;

Favorite animal? ; Bats <3

Favorite color? ; Pink!! Or green :D

Favorite Undertale character? ; I may draw him a lot, but it's not Sans ... either Napstablook or Grillby?

Favorite AU? ; For story? Dreamtale or Dusttale. For aesthetic? Outertale or Fluffytale

Favorite Sans? ; It's a hard choice, but Swap, Horror, or Ink...and for the less popular ones, Outer, Lavender or Dance

[honeii-puff]

Espresso

In which the coffee machine breaks Read (in full!) on AO3!

ESPRESSO

/eˈspresō/ (n.)

A strong black coffee made by forcing steam through ground coffee beans.

——————————————————————

“...Opeli? What happened to the Keurig?” Corvus asked his roommate, looking up from the coffee maker.

The blonde blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Beats me. You know I don’t drink coffee.”

“Right. Because you’re way too dignified for it. What about that study partner of yours, do they drink coffee?” He lightly hit the side of the coffee maker in an attempt to get it to turn on.

It didn’t work.

“She might have, but I don’t think she broke it.” Opeli shrugged. “I think it’s just old.”

“It’s not old. I got it in freshman year.” Corvus was a sophomore now, so it wasn’t that long ago from when he got it.

“Yeah, used from one of the seniors, who probably got it from a garage sale.” She looked back at her Economics textbook. “I think it’s just busted.”

“How am I supposed to get coffee? The stuff in the cafeteria is shit.” Corvus frowned at the coffee maker.

“There are like, three cafes on campus.”

“You kidding? Cafes are for–”

“–Hippies and Liberal Arts majors. Look who’s too dignified now.” Opeli pointed out.

“...Fine.” He got up from where he was crouched in front of the coffee maker. “Fine, I’ll go to a coffee shop.”

“If you go to Kotalis Coffee, get me a lavender tea please.”

“You better Venmo me.” He grabbed his messenger bag and trench coat from the back of his chair. The coming of autumn made Oxford even colder than usual, and even though he was used to it, it still sometimes crept up on him like a prowling beast.

“If it’s cold when you get back I’m only paying you half.”

“Duly noted.” He opened the door to their dorm on the third floor, exiting without another word.

——————————————————————

Corvus took the emergency exit stairs that went along the outside of the building, rather than using the main stairway; The main stairs were too crowded for his taste and slowed him down. Plus, it was a straightforward route to the paths that wound around campus. The only time he’s taken the normal route was when he had to bring his Cello to practice since the emergency exit stairs were too narrow.

The shortcut shaved five minutes off his route to the corner of campus that had three separate coffee shops, all within a few yards of each other.

A Starbucks, which was an automatic no.

Xadia Brews, which had been on campus longer than most people had been alive.

And Katolis Coffee, which Corvus only knew of because Opeli got her lavender tea from there and was constantly seeing the cup sitting on her desk.

His phone buzzed, and he dug it out of the pocket of his trench coat and checked it. It was a message from Opeli.

Opeli: Can you also get a jelly tart?

Corvus: I’m not paying for it.

A moment later, another notification buzzed on his phone.

VENMO: Opeli215 paid you $07.26 - For the tea and tart.

He sent her a message back.

Corvus: Fine.

Opeli: Thank you.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he pushed the door open and walked into the coffee shop. It was small, and… 

Not nearly as bad as he thought it’d be.

The atmosphere was comfortable. Not cozy, but comfortable. And not too stuffy. The lights had a warm glow to them, casting a nice light on the dark wooden tables, chairs, and floor.

The cafe wasn’t that full, even though it was 7 in the morning, probably because they were competing with a cafe that had a legacy and Starbucks.

Corvus stood at the end of the short line, not paying attention to what the person in front of him was ordering. It was none of his business, and he already knew what he was getting.

“Hey there- you’re new.” A chipper American accent said, and he looked at the barista.

He had dirty blonde hair that was partly flopped in his face, bright blue eyes, and a shadow of stubble on his face. His left eyebrow had a slit near the end, and if it was an attempt to try and look edgy, the expression of curiosity on his face immediately canceled it out.

“What makes you think that?” He inquired.

“Well, believe it or not, we aren’t exactly brimming with customers. You’re not one of our regulars.”

“I’m not a cafe person.” 

“Right. What brings you here now?” The barista asked him.

“Keurig’s broken.”

“Ah. What can I get you?” He leaned forward on the counter slightly.

“A lavender tea, a jelly tart, and an espresso.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t seem like a tea person.”

“The tea and the tart are for my roommate.” Corvus clarified.

“What tart flavor?”

“She didn’t say.”

“You’re roommates with Opeli?” The barista asked him, and he raised his eyebrows.

“How’d you crack that one?”

“Like I said, not that many people come in here. She gets the lavender tea and isn’t specific with the tart.” He cracked a grin. “I’m Soren.”

“Corvus.” He gave him a small smile.

“Alright, Corvus, your total is $11.45.”

Corvus pulled out his wallet and handed him $12. “Keep the change.”

“Don’t like carrying around coins?” Soren guessed.

“Nope.” “Me either. A little too noisy.”

“Don’t want them to be louder than you?” He grinned slightly.

“Hey man, don’t insult the guy in charge of your drinks!” 

“I’m kidding.” Corvus laughed slightly.

“I’ll get you your drinks.” Soren grinned at him.

Corvus stepped out of line, though no one else was behind him in line. Rain pelted against the window, droplets running down the glass. Rain always made the outside look more saturated, and the leaves gaining their fall colors seemed to–

Corvus’ thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open and a white-haired girl storming in. He quickly sidestepped out of her path, having a feeling that she would probably mow him over if he didn’t move.

“Callum!” She had a thick Scottish accent, and was very angry.

“Oh! Rayla. Hi.” Soren stiffened slightly.

“Where’s Callum?” She– Rayla– narrowed her eyes at him.

“He’s in the back-”

“I’m here.” A guy with dark brown hair rushed out of the back. His hair was sticking up slightly, and he was wearing a blue sweater with a red scarf around his neck. “What do you want Ralya?”

“You shits put your flier on top of ours. Again.” She pointed out the window across the street.

Corvus glanced out the window, then at Soren, who had a very obvious ‘help me’ expression on his face.

“Again, Rayla, that wasn’t us.” Callum pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right, because a random person on campus just decided to tape your flier on top of ours.”

As Rayla and Callum continued their argument, Soren snuck out from behind the counter with two to-go cups and a small pastry bag. One of the cups had his name on it, and the other had “Opelioli” scribbled on the side.

“Sorry about them.” He apologized. “I swear this happens every other day.”

“That must be annoying.” Corvus put the pastry bag in his messenger bag and took the cups from him.

“It’s usually pretty entertaining. All of the staff have a betting pool on when they’ll start dating.” Soren grinned.

Corvus raised his eyebrows in question. “Really?”

“Yep. I hope you enjoy your espresso, Birdman.” He winked.

“Clever.”

“I try.”

“Bye, Soren.”  He waved slightly

“See you around, Birdman.”

“Don’t count on it.” He pulled the door open, exiting Katolis Coffee. The brisk cold air hit his face, a strong contrast to the warmth of the coffee shop.

Not that he’d admit that he had enjoyed his time inside the establishment.

Corvus sipped his espresso as he walked. Whatever coffee grounds they used had been infused with hazelnut, which had cut out a bit of the bitterness he was used to in the espresso that came from his Keurig.

Interesting…

——————————————————————

Corvus nudged the door of his and Opeli’s dorm room open with his foot, his hands full from the cups. “Your tea’s still warm.”

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” She took one of the cups from him. Opeli was still sitting at her desk, highlighting sections of her textbook. “Where’s the tart?”

“I ate it.” He deadpanned.

“Not funny.”

“I’m hilarious.” He pulled the small pastry bag from his messenger bag and put it on her desk before taking off his trench coat.

“You gave me your espresso, stop holding my tea hostage.” She crinkled her nose briefly. “And you have the number of a lovely barista on your cup. I feel sorry for her.”

“Him.” Corvus corrected, giving Opeli her tea back and taking his espresso.

She read the name on the side of her cup. “Soren? Really?”

“Unless he gave me a false name, yes.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he’s hiding from the CIA.”

“Just because he’s American doesn’t mean he’s hiding from the CIA.” She sipped her tea, turning around in her chair. “Are you going to text him?”

Corvus snorted. “Hell no.”

“Right, because you don’t fraternize with baristas.”

“I don’t fraternize with anybody.” He corrected. “You are the only person I talk to regularly.”

“That is extremely depressing.”

“It really isn’t.” He sipped from his espresso. “I just don’t care to be surrounded by a lot of people.”

“And yet you went to university.”

“Shut up.”