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swcetnight · 3 years

Text

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength." Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

enjoying this story? please be sure to like and reblog!! It would really help me out, and i would love to hear your thoughts and feelings regarding this work 🥺🤍 thank you for taking the time to read!!

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#fic: it’s definitely you #faes fanfics #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung x oc #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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notnctu · 4 years

Text

nct by the hour❀

▸ in which each member represents an hour of your extremely long day. its a similar concept to all the different people you encounter on a daily basis. read in chronological order!

▸[a/n] it’s author doie❀! inspired by @okmica‘s nct as types of boys ; im sorry u got notified twice bc i accidentally posted my draft lolol,, but anyways ur post absolutely butters my toast hehe idk what i wrote honestly lol

RENJUN ▸ 4:02 a.m

your own personal alarm clock, light pats on your shoulder and tiny whispers, stumbles in the dark, takes off his warm hoodie to slip onto you, leaves your door open, places a granola bar for you on the kitchen counter, the first smile of your day

HENDERY▸ 5:06 a.m

a burst of energy ride to work, brings you freshly squeezed orange juice, plays upbeat music, is overly excited to start the day, points out the sunrise, takes the scenic route bc it makes you happy

KUN ▸ 6:03 a.m

the calm and collected shift lead, greets you with good morning without a fail, goes over the work breakdown with enthusiasm, notices you did something different with your hair, says you’re his best employee

XIAOJUN ▸ 7:09 a.m

a quiet company during work prep, silently takes care of the coffee machinery, counts the money so you don’t have to, soft chuckles when arranging the display pastries, tired gazes, mutual hatred for morning shifts

JOHNNY ▸ 8:00 a.m

the very attractive regular who always gets black coffee, remembers your name, engages in small talk, touches finger tips when you give him his drink, tips $10 every time, wishes you a good day

YANGYANG ▸ 9:10 a.m

always takes up the corner of the shop, scatters his textbooks on two tables, gets awfully shy when you offer him a pastry, pushes his glasses up every three seconds, orders hot chocolate, talks to you when there are no customers in line

TAEIL ▸ 10:13 a.m

asks you for recommendations, holds up the line, compliments the pins on your apron, goes by the alias ‘moon’, is a rewards member, quirky conversations about the weather, hopes to see you tomorrow

JISUNG ▸ 11:01 a.m

the new trainee that nods to everything you teach him, fumbles with the espresso machine, doesn’t talk much, pouts whenever he messes up, thinks you’re the best at explanations, gets nervous when you don’t have the same shifts, admires you deeply

MARK ▸ 12:15 p.m

your break buddy who works next door, smells like pizza dough, shares his slice with you, always thankful that you bring him a drink, funny stories about customers, heavy sighs when break is over, never wants to leave you

CHENLE ▸ 1:00 p.m

the cheerful employee who takes your spot at the end of your shift, screams your name out of pure joy of seeing you, begs you not to go, dramatic wails of disappointment, excitedly waves goodbye over the cash register

YUTA ▸ 2:05 p.m

works at your local grocery store, helps you get something from the top shelf, throws in a bag of free candy bc he likes you, asks about how you are, gives you store discount, always acknowledges that you smell like coffee, carries your groceries to your car

JUNGWOO ▸ 3:20 p.m

the spunky waiter at your favorite restaurant, always puts your order in before you arrive, beaming smiles the moment you walk through the door, hugs you quickly, thinks you look cute today, ushers you out urgently with a small pat on your head

JAEMIN ▸ 4:03 p.m

cuddles you while you two nap, runs his fingers through your hair gently, forehead kisses, rubs circles on your shoulder, makes sure you fall asleep first, draws you into his side, forgets to set an alarm

WINWIN ▸ 5:30 p.m

misses you during lecture, rolls his eyes when he hands you his notes, grumbles about you owing him snacks, sarcastic jokes about you oversleeping, important due dates, walks you to your next class, attentively listens to your troubles

HAECHAN ▸ 6:12 p.m

takes you out to new restaurants for dinner, orders way too much, gossips about your mutuals, feeds you small spoonful bites, remembers your favorite kinds of foods, jokes playfully about how you have poor taste buds, covers the bill and doesn’t let you pay him back

JENO ▸ 7:07 p.m

the cute club leader who makes announcements, makes an effort to introduce himself personally, firm handshakes, notices you from across the room, very surface level conversations, notable eye smile that makes him even cuter, wants to get to know you better

DOYOUNG ▸ 8:03 p.m

your study buddy who hasn’t left the library since the morning, offers his jacket so you don’t get cold, proudly shows you his full set of completed flashcards, ruffles your hair whenever you rest against the table, clearly claims that he adores you, silently loves your company

JAEHYUN ▸ 9:06 p.m

the familiar handsome stranger who always meets you in the elevator, presses all the floors to spend more time with you, flashes his dimples in hopes to charm you, awkwardly sparks up a conversation, politely asks if you’d want to hang out sometime

TEN ▸ 10:00 p.m

steals you away from your studies to get ice cream, doesn’t hesitate to order your favorite flavor for you, tries to bite from your cone, always tells you to get plenty of rest, playful giggles when he teases you about your love life, wishes you had more time for him

LUCAS ▸ 11:02 p.m

the party animal who never fails to invite you over, respects your decision to not drink tonight, still comically asks you to dance with him, hypes up your awful moves, thinks you’re the most fun to be around, can be himself with you

TAEYONG ▸ 12:00 a.m

the open arms you love coming home to, readily available to hear about your entire day, gets the water started for you, droopy eyes and long yawns, tucks you into bed, holds you until you fall asleep, softly closes your door on his way out, the last smile of your day

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itsagutthing · 4 years

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Places Carrie Mathison Has Lived: New York City Edition

this installment of my carrie’s apartments series is close to my heart because i also live in brooklyn, though not close to carrie. the show actually filmed a scene just a block from my apartment, but for obvious reasons i’m not going to specify which scene. i know, season six is overall meh with the exception of carrie’s blazers, but my lizard brain still goes, “that’s where i live!” so i give it more leeway than i probably should.

carrie lives in the bedford-stuyvesant neighborhood of brooklyn, which was once primarily home to black and latino families but unfortunately is in the process of gentrifying. some light googling tells me they filmed the interior apartment scenes on a soundstage in another brooklyn neighborhood called greenpoint, which begs the question: why didn’t they just make carrie live there? greenpoint has also been gentrified but is mostly home to eastern european immigrants, so the writers could have avoided the questionable racial implications of carrie living in bed-stuy, particularly when she’s working at a non-profit that promotes racial justice. and greenpoint is also more convenient to her office in williamsburg! i know the answer to this question is probably just “brownstones look pretty,” and there are lots of brownstones in bed-stuy but not in greenpoint, but i’ll still bitch about it.

anyway, we know from quinn’s escape to the bodega in 6.02 that carrie lives close to the intersection of throop avenue and halsey street, which means she lives off of the kingston-throop A and C trains and a sort-of far walk from the bedford-nostrand G. she probably takes the G to work in williamsburg. this is information that’s only important to me, but i love public transit.

the bike lane sign in the screenshot above reminds me how much i loved seeing carrie biking around berlin. even though nyc isn’t nearly as bike-friendly, i hope she does the same in brooklyn.

carrie appears to have free reign of the entire brownstone, which must have been two separate units at some point — both where she and franny live and the ~garden apartment~ on the basement level that has both a full bath and kitchen. she obviously can’t afford to rent out an entire brownstone in new york city, even in bed-stuy, so my headcanon is that otto bought it as an investment property and is letting carrie and franny stay in it at a heavily discounted rate.

brownstones are typically long and skinny, as we see here. there are really only two rooms on the first floor: the living room and the kitchen.

i love seeing all of franny’s drawings strung up on the living room wall and her chalkboard/easel in the corner. this fixes an issue i had with carrie’s berlin apartment, which was that there was a weird lack of kid stuff. i don’t think that means anything on its own — we see in 5.01 how devoted carrie was to her seemingly normal life as a mother — but it’s nice to see more little touches in her brooklyn apartment.

i assume the fireplace in the left-hand corner isn’t actually usable, but it does make the living room look homier. i’m surprised there isn’t more carpeting, since carrie loves a patterned rug. the living room looks a little cold without it. maybe she isn’t done decorating yet, though i think we’re supposed to believe they’ve been in nyc for a few months.

there’s a tv next to the fireplace in 6.05 that isn’t there in 6.01, which is very strange placement. the only furniture opposite the tv is a desk and chair, so there’s nowhere to sit comfortably while watching. i don’t think carrie spends a lot of time watching tv, but that’s still a confusing choice. i do like franny’s fuzzy chair with bunny ears, though. carrie probably ordered it on amazon but i like to imagine her schlepping it in and out of a cab.

now for the kitchen:

one nice thing the show did to convince us that this is an apartment carrie could maybe afford is that it’s not newly renovated: all the kitchen appliances are basic and/or old, and the countertops look like plastic laminate and are chipped along the edges. and there’s no room for the nice cutting boards or espresso machine she had in germany! i always find barstools charming even if they’re just a cheat to make an efficient use of counter space.

my favorite detail in the kitchen is the trio of framed drawings done by franny. again, i love all the “carrie’s a mom, remember?” touches.

the curtains are a gold color and match the curtains in the living room! carrie learned some design lessons in berlin.

even in the daytime the whole first floor feels really dark, which makes me miss the floor-to-ceiling windows in berlin. i brightened the screenshots a lot to see the details, but especially in the living room, the sunlight just doesn’t reach all the way across the house. the lack of natural light (and the fact that they filmed during the late fall) does a lot of quick work to set the dreary tone that persists for the entire season. i can’t help but compare it to the americans, which also filmed in brooklyn in the fall/winter, but at least the indoor scenes in that show were well-lit and generally warmer in both color and tone.

i associate the early seasons of homeland with warm yellows, probably because they filmed either in the desert or in charlotte in the summertime. the shift to gray winter skies and heavy coats is a little jarring, even with berlin in the middle as a transitional urban, cooler season.

that door behind carrie goes out to a set of stairs and their little backyard/patio:

it’s common, if a little depressing, to have bars on first-floor windows as shown in the second shot above, both to child-proof an apartment from the inside and to prevent break-ins. our first view of franny for the season is through those bars, but i’m not entirely sure what the symbolism is supposed to be. carrie already feels a separation from franny, maybe? this shot especially feels super foreboding.

carrie continues her trend of killer outdoor lounge furniture (remember the multiple chaises on her DC patio?) with the wooden chair with blue cushions right outside the back door. there are also more potted plants than i believe carrie would purchase/remember to water, especially in the winter, but maybe she figures if they’re outside they’ll get enough rain to survive.

i don’t have a lot to say about the patio itself other than i’m jealous that carrie has outdoor space.

inside by the stairs/front entryway is a framed berlin jazz poster which makes me inexplicably happy, and follows the same trend with the jazz posters she had in her DC apartment. it’s hard to tell what’s in the photos, so i’m choosing to believe they’re pictures of places she and franny loved in berlin, including some of the two of them taken by jonas. there is absolutely a photo of franny and carrie at the birthday party we saw in 5.01 where carrie’s wearing that balloon hat.

we don’t get to see a lot of the second floor, but i’m going to assume it’s just franny’s room, carrie’s room, carrie’s weird conspiracy closet, and a bathroom.

franny’s room is very colorful, with the rainbow sheets and rainbow polka dot curtains. it makes up for the dreariness of the first floor. behind carrie in that second shot is franny’s star lamp, which i love but have many questions about. it’s obviously an allusion to brody, of which there are many in season 6, probably because they’re in new york city and brody would have never served/been captured/turned/bonded with carrie if not for 9/11. assuming that carrie purchased this lamp for franny with brody’s memory in mind, does franny have anything else that’s star themed? if not, why this lamp? did carrie explain to franny that stars make her think of franny’s father, or is it just a secret nod for carrie alone? how often does carrie talk to franny about brody, if at all?

now we move to carrie’s conspiracy closet:

i’ve been in enough brownstones to know that sometimes there are strange inexplicable tiny rooms, which is what we have here. i’m sure this would be advertised as an office space on streeteasy but it really looks like a glorified closet with a confusing number of doors leading off of it. i count three total including the one saul came in — what are all these doors? i think the one on saul’s right goes to franny’s room but i don’t have a great spatial brain and i’m not confident about that assessment.

this conspiracy board reveal was kinda anticlimactic since very little happens with it, but i still felt like i needed to include it as a separate room since carrie clearly spends a lot of time here.

i wish we got to see carrie’s bedroom because i love to scrutinize the art she has, but sadly we’re limited to franny’s room. i’m going to assume there’s a full bath up here somewhere, and a half bath downstairs that we don’t see.

finally, we have the basement apartment that carrie allegedly rents out on airbnb. in real life it likely would be marketed as an entire unit separate from the two floors above, but since otto owns the entire brownstone / is in love with carrie he’s just letting her do whatever she wants with it.

the full kitchen is what convinces me it was supposed to be an independent unit — no one has a stove and sink and lots of cabinets in their basement. like we saw in carrie’s kitchen, none of the appliances are fancy and the countertops are nothing special, which makes the room look kinda drab but does help sell the idea that carrie could actually live here. there’s also some water damage in the corner by the fridge. i’m not sure why they decided to be realistic in season 6 — can we all recall carrie’s unnecessary two-bedroom townhouse in DC? — and it’s not particularly fun to watch, but i’m not mad about it.

the living room area of this basement actually looks cozier than carrie’s living room, with all the pillows and the exposed brick wall. i have a weakness for exposed brick walls, as we know from carrie’s DC apartment, and here it goes pretty far to make the space look homey. the couch looks like it matches the chair on her patio (with the wood frame + blue cushions), so does that mean the patio chair is meant for normal indoor use? why is it outside??

as we know from her berlin apartment, carrie really loves a two-curtain combo with a sheer under layer. these are dark green, similar to the navy ones she loved in berlin but not the same. i do like the thought of carrie taking her navy curtains with her from germany and relegating them to the basement to avoid the constant reminder of her past life, but i also have no desire to think about what it would mean that quinn ends up living in the basement with her jonas curtains. so those must be new!

in summary: musings about carrie’s role in gentrification, the color palette of the show, berlin jazz poster + photos, franny’s art on the walls, star lamp, a basement living room that’s cozier than carrie’s actual living room!

#homeland #carrie mathison #me acknowledging qu*nn's existence? only because i needed the screenshots #me bringing up jonas for no reason? of course #i cropped/brightened these photos while watching gilmore girls which sure was a tonal shift #cma*#i miss carrie even though i have every single episode at my fingertips

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skepticaloccultist · 4 years

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The Society with No Name

I had taken the train in from our temporary accommodation in the English countryside to deal with a few pressing matters back in London. Our house in Hackney has been packed, and while most of it will go to storage some is on its way to Portugal. We have taken offices there, and are preparing to sign the papers for our new home in Portugal in the coming days.

There are many things I will miss about London, though these days of plague mean that I miss them already. The bookshops and private libraries, the lectures and occasional events that bring me out into the night. But this country has become a shambles, and more sensible accommodation is in our future.

Among those things that I will think of even in the brightest of Portuguese sunshine is a place that I have come to consider a second home in London. One of the few reclusive lairs in central London that affords one such as myself a bit of respite, and a proper coffee, or whiskey as the case may be.

Located down a street too narrow for any but foot traffic, two right turns from Leicester Square station, is a rather peculiar building that seems to have grown like a weed among the more traditional structures around it.

Painted these days where there is wood on its two facades in a dark blue, the building is narrow at its base, a corner slot some 20 feet on either of its two street facing sides. Stretching some five or so stories tall it is impossibly angled outward over the sidewalk as it rises. Not in any modernist architectural style, just in a centuries long battle with gravity.

The door is nondescript, black painted wood under a stone mantel that bears the number "13", though the vagaries of London's postal code system mean that it hasn't had that number as a street address since shortly after Queen Victoria expired.

If one were to knock at the door, no one would answer. To enter, one needs to have a key.

+++

I became a member or "key holder" of the society sometime during the summer of 2009. It had long been on the fringes of my social group, small though it has always been. Though it was only through a chance meeting of a standing member that I was invited to join.

As many will know I have spent my life politely declining membership in a range of secret societies, handshake clubs, and masonic fraternities dressed up in various historic ethnographic fashions. I have never been much on membership in anything, initiatory or otherwise. I am not a very social fellow when it comes down to it.

It was the complete lack of any "club" like structure that the society presented that drew my attention. Members are not encouraged to interact, no events public or otherwise are planned. One simply pays annual dues and receives a key that grants them access to the building, including a small lobby bar staffed 24 hours a day, a number of rooms of various sizes furnished with arrangements of chairs and tables with doors that can be closed, and access to one of the largest private esoteric libraries in the world, taking up an entire floor of the building.

Not only is one not compelled by the society to interact with other members, but if you have not been introduced it is considered impolite to attempt conversation. Ideal for the recluse who seeks a perfect Turkish espresso at 1am, with the least amount of social interaction possible.

When one has entered through the front of the building the hall is modestly lit, a short entry that has a coat room to one side and opens into a sort of lobby, with a cafe style bar set into the rear of a small room, a few chairs and a table or two along one wall and three booths along another.

The bartender on duty never comes from behind the bar to serve, and it is expected that each member bus their own tables before they leave. A hallmark of the society is courteousness.

Opposite the entry way across the tiny lobby is the staircase, which goes upward around a tattery old iron lift. The stairs creak as you climb them, but the hand railing is fixed solid. Not something that can be said for the lift.

I have ridden the lift on several occasions, each time being reminded why no one ever rides in the lift. The noise alone is enough to think a banshee was the operator.

One climbs the slender stairs, pausing on the occasional landing to peer out of the crooked windows onto the street below. No one ever seems to be on the streets when you look out of the windows, regardless of how crowded the streets were just moments ago when you were approaching the building.

On each floor the stairs open to a landing that leads into various rooms. Some more private than others. The rooms are decorated minimally, with shelves of books and curiosities left over the years by members.

On the third floor is the library.

+++

The origins of the society seem to have come out of a select group within the British supper club the "Ye Sette of Odd Volumes." Members of that organization seem to have acquired the building in the early 1900s and from there the society evolved.

It is unknown to current members who actually owns the building, or if the society holds it in some obscure trust. Though a general trust fund was setup in the 1950s and covers staff pay and building upkeep, the annual dues each member pays seem to come to about the required budget each year.

The building was built sometime in the 18th century, though from its ill fitting the upper few stories must have been a later addition. Typical of the period the rooms are mostly wood trimmed plaster walls. Each of the member rooms is painted in a particular colour scheme, though these seem to change as years go by.

As was typical of societies of the early 20th century membership is coed, with women being key holders from the beginning. The only restriction to membership is that members must live within commuting distance of London. Those members that leave the region must relinquish their key. It is intended as a place of solitude for those who need it in their dealings with the city, a place to coordinate and consult with the volumes in the library.

It is said among older members that the building was a well known opium den in the late 19th century, frequented by literary types and dragon chasing aristocrats. The layout of the rooms certainly lends itself to the idea of opium beds and servitors, with the rooms' high ceilings perfectly suited to smoke filled chambers.

The rooms on the top two floors of the building are more open, like small ballrooms. Though furnished with a few chairs they are easily emptied out for purposes privy to only the society members behind closed doors. These rooms, unlike those on the lower floors, have windows that can be opened. It is considered polite to book a room ahead on the calendar if one plans to need it for more than a day, though exceptions are often made.

+++

Unlike the other floors, which are divided into smaller rooms, the landing of the third floor has only a single door, made of glass and requiring a key to open, the same as the buildings front door. This is the entrance to the society's library, a densely packed but well organized room full of books, maps, papers and other ephemera.

The society's library grew out of the private libraries and individual donations of previous members of the society, usually upon their death. It takes up the entire third floor, with fiction and other non essential volumes found across the shelves of many of the members rooms on other floors.

The first member whose private collection was to form the core of the original library, who willed a portion of their collection to the society upon their death, was William Sharp, former Golden Dawn member and founder of the Celtic Society. After his collection was sorted other members began to add works, then as members passed on it became a custom for their private libraries to be donated to the society.

By the end of the second World War a librarian had been employed as part of the staff trust. Initially just a job of sorting and keeping records it has evolved into a more curatorial role as the members who donate their collections often have a great overlap in their private libraries' holdings and there is only so much space on the third floor.

Works from the library can not be removed from the building. Anyone attempting to do so is banned without recourse. They may be taken to the members rooms but must be signed out at the time, though signing out is on an honors system of a paper list on a clipboard near the library door. In the history of the society a book has never gone missing.

The holdings of the library are much of what you would expect, rare volumes, original manuscripts. The society holds the personal papers and effects of several of its former members. Possibly my favorite object in the library, though in no way occult, is a stack of love letters written between botanist and writer Edith Wheelwright and Beatrix Potter in the late 1920s. An eloquent longing preserved in a private way that will never be seen by public eyes. The two women's handwriting alone makes one ache with decadence.

+++

The gentleman who primarily works behind the bar is an eloquent older Italian who speaks a dozen languages in passing and can read one's tarot on a rainy day. He makes a distinguished espresso as well.

I have long attempted to get him to stock some pastries at the bar but he refuses, serving only liquids hot and cold. On days where I am holed up in one of the rooms I often pop around the corner to an unremarkable ramen noodle shop. A tiny place decorated in a trendy colourful style but a passing bowl of noodles if one knows how to order.

I was able, sometime after a year or so of being a key holder, to insist that the bar stock my preferred bourbon. Though I had to personally supply the first few bottles kept behind the counter they eventually began to replenish themselves.

I do run into friends who are also members occasionally on the stairs, though more often I am in the building to meet them directly during daylight hours. The hours I generally keep tend to be late, and while there are others who frequent the society at similarly nocturnal intervals, like myself, they keep to themselves and their business.

It will be a shame to have to hand in my key in the coming month, I will be unable to spend as much time as I would have liked here in this comfortable late 19th century chair, whose time for a reupholstering was ages since, and to look out of the window on the landing outside of the library, where no one ever passes by below regardless of the time of day, and the park across the way from the building seems to go unnoticed to anyone but the squirrels.

Perhaps London will lure me back one day, after the plague and the war have passed? Previous members in good standing are always welcome to return if they find themselves living full time in London again. In the meantime I drink a final espresso or two from Silvio, taking the bourbon with me, and spend some time in the library saying my goodbyes.

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supervoldejaygent · 4 years

Text

Break (3/3)

Fandom: The Flash/Arrow

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warning(s): some cussing

Summary: Oliver learns more about the Reader’s past, finding her intriguing and wanting to learn more---especially if it’s on a date ;)

A/N: YOOOOO. What up my peeps?!?!?! I would real quick like to let you know that I am officially done with finals and I’m sort of freaking out cause the colleges that I sent apps to are like “yeah you can come, but only if you keep it up at your current college” and I didn’t do too great this semester :( butttt other than that, I’m happy! TBH all the likes and reblogs that you guys leave me, make my heart a little happier every day --- however, I would also appreciate comments if you ever have them!!!! Soooo without further ado, here is the last part of Break! Enjoy :)

~ ~ ~

“So, (Y/N) was in the military?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t really talk about it that much,” said Caitlin. “Anytime one of us mentions it, she tenses up and changes the subject.”

“What do you know?”

“Why do you wanna know, white man?” Cisco asked, looking at Oliver suspiciously.

“I’m just curious,” he defended. “I don’t mean to offend or intrude.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, we only know the basics.”

“Which are?”

Caitlin sighed. “That right after high school she joined---”

“---The Marines, as she likes to remind us.”

She nodded. “Right, and she became part of the mechanical program; almost immediately being shipped out to Iraq---”

“2005-2009. Another thing she likes to remind us.”

“Did she ever tell you what division she belonged to?” asked Oliver, the back of his brain wondering if she had met his friends before.

The two STAR Labs technicians shook their heads.

“Like I said,” Caitlin said. “She doesn’t talk about it.”

Oliver nodded and thanked the pair. He turned away from them and walked out of the Cortex, doing his best to follow the path that (Y/N) took to her lab. When he eventually found it, Oliver took in the lab and almost immediately noticed the division between the three scientists that shared it. There was (Y/N)’s side, what looked like Cisco’s side, and the other Well’s (Harry) side. They weren’t actual dividers that separated the room into sections, but from a standby's perspective, there was no need.

Harry’s side had scattered papers on the designated desk along with three whiteboards side by side on the east side: each containing its own code of crazy chicken scratch. Three or four mugs that once held coffee were huddled in one of the corners, a few granola bar wrappers surrounding them. Oliver noted that one of the mugs had been knocked over, creating an espresso puddle on the floor. Standing in between the desk and whiteboards stood the “better” Wells. In his hand, a new mug of coffee and a black marker, a ballpoint pen behind his left ear. Every now and then, the man dressed in all black despite it being in the high eighties outside, would turn around, gaze at the room, scribble something down on the notebook in front of him and transfer it to the whiteboard.

Cisco’s side was much neater than Harry’s, but in Oliver’s opinion, he still held displacement. All the tech that Cisco continuously worked on lined the edges, while the middle---from what Oliver could see---held piles and piles of thoughtless scribbling, or maybe it was thoughtful just mindless.

Normally, when Oliver was here, he always brought Felicity, who was fluent in all science-speak. However, since she was bonding with her mother, for the time being, Oliver would have to endure it. Although, it wasn’t too big of a deal considering he had been working with Felicity for five years and picked up on things quickly. He was also good at figuring things out based on context. It didn’t entirely matter, but Oliver had a small feeling in the back of his brain that if he looked through Cisco’ pile of science speak, he could figure out around 30% of what it all meant...okay 28%, but that was still good. Even for Oliver Queen.

Lastly, Oliver took his gaze upon (Y/N)’s desk and the order that surrounded it. He could tell that her Marine training stuck just from looking at her workspace. In fact, he was almost positive that even if no one said a word about her being in the military, Oliver would’ve still figured it out. No papers were scattered, but in three even piles, all next to each other with clear space between them. Her pens and other writing utensils were aligned perfectly next to each other, with the one exception of the pen behind her ear. Oliver took one last glance around the lab and found himself comparing the three scientists to Goldilocks and the Three Bears. It was oddly satisfying.

“Neat desk,” he said. He walked towards her desk and watched as (Y/N) barely acknowledged him or his crafty pun as she quickly scrawled chemical formulas across her own whiteboard. Oliver stopped beside the board and looked between (Y/N) and her crazy compound equations. Even her messy handwriting was neat.

“I guess your military training really stuck with you,” Oliver commented.

(Y/N) ears perked up at Oliver’s comment as she slowly stopped writing; however, she did not turn towards Oliver as she said, “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Queen?”

“Actually, yes there is.” Oliver pushed himself lightly off the board and slowly walked around her portion of the lab. “Do you know a Jonathan Diggle?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Curiosity, mostly.”

“Curiosity is a waste of time; a shit-starter, Mr. Queen.”

“That’s okay. Sometimes we have to rumble with a story to find the truth.” (Y/N) chuckled lightly to herself. “I didn’t know you knew Brene Brown.”

Finally, (Y/N) turned towards Oliver. Her appearance took him by surprise. It dawned on Oliver that he probably did not get a good enough view of (Y/N) the first time. She really was perfect looking, from head to toe. She wore little to no makeup: light eyeshadow, mascara, and the smallest tint of red lipstick. Her hair was perfectly pulled back, her black slacks were perfectly primped and ironed, as well as her white collared shirt that adorned little dinosaurs. Her lab coat was a bright white and looked brand new. She was intoxicating and made Oliver’s insides twist in knots. He wanted to pick her apart and dive inside her deepest, darkest secrets.

“I may be a scientist, Mr. Queen, but I know a great writer when I see one.” She paused, taking a small glance at the man. “If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m quite surprised that you know Brene Brown.”

“I guess you could say I’m full of surprises.”

“I guess so.”

“So, do you know him?”

(Y/N) pursued her lips, bringing her attention back to the problem in front of her. She sighed, “Yes. He was my commanding officer for two years on his second tour.”

“Did he ever tell you about his life before joining?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “Figured he wouldn’t tell me. War changes you, Mr. Queen. I didn’t feel the need to learn about the person John was before he entered it.”

“So, you never knew the real John?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember signing up for interrogation, Mr. Queen,” (Y/N) said, capping her marker and fully facing the Green Arrow.

Oliver stopped too as he defended himself, “I didn’t mean for it---”

“Well, it sure does feel like one. And no, I never knew him like that. The only humanity I ever saw in him was when he was around Lyla. Then again, that was the only time I looked for it. Us girls gotta stick together, you know?”

“You knew Lyla?”

She nodded. “She was my unofficial best friend while on tour. She saved my ass more times than I can count. Although, I did do the same for her.” (Y/N) turned back to her compounds, scribbling a few notes before setting down the capped marker and packing her stuff. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Queen, but I am done for the day.”

Oliver stood straighter as he followed her to the door. “Great, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“No offense, but Central City is a lot safer than Star City. I think I can handle walking to my car.”

Oliver scoffed. “You guys have metahumans.”

“Your criminals actually kill,” she shot back. Oliver broke out a smile when he noticed (Y/N) break one out too. She laughed lightly, turning around and almost bumping into his chest before throwing her hands up. “What are you getting at?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Oh, bullshit. What do you want? A date? Or, let me guess, you’re looking for someone to patrol buildings with you? I’m going to let you know right now, I’m not a fan of heights and I’m not great at jumping from building to building.”

He chuckled and lowered his head to hide the ever-growing smile on his face. “I was actually thinking more in the lines of getting a drink or dinner.”

“So, you do want a date?”

“Would that be so bad?”

(Y/N) looked Oliver up and down, noting he had found one of STAR Lab's sweaters and was looking quite handsome in it.

“No,” she replied, turning back to the elevator and pushing the down arrow.

“Is that a yes?”

As the door opened, (Y/N) walked inside, pressing the ground level button, and looked up to the waiting man.

“It’s a maybe,” she said, a small smile gracing her face. “Oliver.”

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the elevator doors close. It seemed that after all the shit he had gone through, he was finally going to get the break he deserved.

#oliver queen #oliver queen x reader #oliver queen imagines #break part 3 #arrow #the flash #i can't think of hashtags #y'know #one of those days #barry allen #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #felicity smoak #arrowverse crossover

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uberstip · 4 years

Text

Short escape kita belakangan adalah ke indomaret. Shopping snack lalu nonton Netflix, buka-tutup kulkas lalu selonjoran, home vacation – tua di ranjang.

Namun, hanya soal waktu kita bakal packing dan boarding lagi. Sebelum masa itu tiba, berfantasilah dan renungkan tips liburan berkualitas dari oppa:

1. Mendokumentasikan momen secukupnya

Jangan terlalu banyak selfie. Ga perlu take berulang-ulang hingga 50 kali dalam semenit. Tampak depan, tampak samping, mata genit, melet-melet, semua angle dicoba. Ya, oppa tahu, kamu selfie 50 kali, yang jelek 100. Tapi ga perlu segitunya. Pasrah dan filterlah kemudian.

Ga perlu take video lama-lama seakan kamu sedang syuting drakor. Percayalah, videomu tak akan menang piala Oscar. Keep it short but artistic, don’t spend your entire trip behind a screen.

Take the time to put camera away and gaze in wonder what’s there in front of you

– Erick Widman

2. Hamburkan uang dengan elegan

Karena sudah berhemat dirumah, traveling merupakan saat yang tepat untuk mereward diri sendiri. Jangan melewatkan makan sushi di Tokyo, Wiener Schnitzel di Vienna, ataupun Carbonara di Rome. Kadang kamu gak tahu kapan bisa kesana lagi.

Irit boleh, kikir jangan. Kualitas kehidupanmu lebih penting dari neraca keuanganmu.

Sesekali hiduplah dengan glamour layaknya personil BlackPink.

‘Bada bing, bada boom, boom, boom!’

Posisikanlah dirimu sebagai Billionaire eksentrik yang bosan duit

Berfoya-foyalah untuk sesuatu yang mungkin cuma bisa kamu lakukan sekali seumur hidup. Once in a lifetime moment. Jangan malah ngabisin duit buat gantungan kunci yang tak berguna. Kalo g-string yang lagi sale, OK lah.

3. Tidur awal, bangun pagi

Kamu pun bisa menikmati tiap sudut kota dengan eksklusif. Disaat manusia lain masih ngorok, kamu bisa foto-foto, lompat-lompat dan bikin tik-tok. Sebelum berangkat, sisakan waktu buat ngumpulin nyawa dan melakukan ritual toilet.

Selagi menikmati sepinya pagi, gunakan seluruh indramu untuk meresapinya. Melihat indahnya matahari terbit, mereguk kopi hangat, mencium harum roti yang baru selesai dipanggang, menyentuh daun yang berguguran, mendengar suara burung yang berkicau dan lonceng gereja yang berdentang. Mellow-lah sambil mesem-mesem.

4. Play like a kid, Act like a King

Saat menjelajah dunia, jadilah seperti anak kecil yang kegirangan. Gak mikir kerjaan, hanya bermain tanpa aturan. Berlarian telanjang sesuka hati dan makan tidur dengan riang. Bumi adalah taman bermainmu.

We are in such a hurry to grow up, and then we long for our lost childhood

– Paulo Coelho

Namun bukan berarti jadi bego. Tetap waspada pada spesies jahat. Playful yet strong layaknya raja Korea Pheaaaa ‘The King of Eternal Jomblo’ – ‘You can have fun with me, but don’t you dare to mess with me.’

5. Nyobain sesuatu yang belum pernah

Mulai dari makanan baru, budaya baru, hingga gebetan baru. Nyicipin sashimi gurita yang masih goyang-goyang, masuk ke onsen telanjang bulat, hingga ajep-ajep dengan bad girl.

Dari sini pasti ada pandanganmu yang berubah. Misal, bad girl tidak selalu identik dengan hal negatif.

Selain pintar menjaga penampilan, mereka cenderung lebih pede, suka tantangan dan gak takut patah hati

Pokoknya semua pengalaman baru yang bikin kamu deg-degan dan berteriak ‘Mayday, mayday! Will you marry me?’

Menyelam kebawah laut, naik roller coaster ekstrem, melayang dengan paralayang, breakdance battle dengan barongsai hingga merusak hubungan orang.

Mungkin ada kalanya sesuatu yang baru itu mengecewakan. At least you gave it a shot. Tetaplah penasaran, kamu akan menemukan sesuatu yang bikin kamu excited!

Hasrat ingin mengalami ini akan memperkaya hidupmu dan menjadikannya kenangan terunik. Do things that you will laugh about ten years from now.

We live in a strange world.

Explore it, feel it, enjoy it!

Catedral de Santa María la Real de la Almudena. Baroque Catholic cathedral known for its colorful chapels

Sebelum membaca tulisan ini, ada baiknya kamu membaca tulisan tentang Madrid sebelumnya Things to do in Madrid, Kota Metropolis nan eksotis. Semoga tulisan oppa kali ini, bisa menjelma menjadi gambar bergerak di imajinasimu.

Berikut tempat-tempat asyik yang oppa kunjungi di ibu kota Spanyol ini:

1. La Mallorquina

La Mallorquina was founded in 1894 and ever since has been one of Madrileños’ favourite places to enjoy delicious pastries

Kedai roti melegenda yang telah berdiri sejak tahun 1894. Tempat pelarian Madrileños’ untuk meredakan stres. Chocolatey pastry dan cake yang creamy, menjadi penyembuh jiwa yang alami.

My morning caffeine hit. Sip, chew and on

Mirip dengan coffee bar di Roma, saya berdiri di samping bar, menikmati lumernya chocolate croissant bersama cappuccino di mulut. Di tengah keramaian, sel kebahagiaan saya memekar bagai bunga musim semi.

‘Kafein dan Serotonin yang menyatu memang Mipan zuzuzu’

La Mallorquina

Madrid’s most famous bakery. Incredible variety of pastries, cakes and chocolates!

Puerta del Sol, 8, 28013 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Minggu 8:30AM–2PM, 5:30–9PM

Best Seller Menu: Chocolate Croissant 2.30 Euro. Cafe Cappuccino and Cafe Bombon (Espresso with Condensed Milk) 2.50 Euro | Rp. 44,000. Napolitana 1.70 Euro | Rp. 30,000

Direction: Google Maps Location

Wide selections of pastries, tarts and cakes are available within this cafe

2. Plaza de España

A popular square at the heart of Madrid

Taman publik yang dihiasi bunga, pepohonan dan kolam air mancur yang indah. Tempat asyik buat bersantai dan people-watching. Monumen sastrawan terbesar Spanyol – Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, menjadi sentral dari taman ini.

Penulis yang terkenal berkat karya novelnya yang berjudul ‘Don Quixote’. Pencetus novel modern pertama di dunia. Sebagai sesama filsuf, walaupun beda kasta, oppa ikut merasa menjadi bagian dari sejarah. #siapaelo

There are plenty of shops close by and there is a kiosk selling drinks and snacks etc in the corner of the park

Plaza de España

Leafy square surrounded by imposing buildings, with stone & bronze statue of Cervantes on horseback

Plaza de España, 28008 Madrid, Spain

Open 24 hours

Direction: Google Maps Location

3. Temple of Debod

This ancient temple was a gift from the Egyptian as a sign of gratitude for helping preserve their historical treasure during a crisis. It was brought to Madrid stone by stone

Kuil yang membawamu kembali ke masa Sphinx ribuan tahun yang lalu. Bangunannya merupakan hadiah dari pemerintah Mesir karena Spanyol telah menjaga dan melestarikan peninggalan bersejarah mereka. Bayangin, bebatuannya didatangkan langsung satu persatu langsung dari Mesir.

Temple of Debod

Ancient Egyptian temple & museum moved from Aswan & rebuilt in lush parkland, with sunset views

Calle de Ferraz, 1, 28008 Madrid, Spain

Free Entrance but capacity is limited to 30 persons

Hours: Selasa – Minggu 10AM–7PM

Direction: Google Maps Location

4. Casa Dani

Tempat terbaik untuk nyobain Tortilla de patatas aka Spanish Omelette ada di resto keluarga Casa Dani. Fresh from the kitchen! Telur dadar isi irisan kentang yang dimasak dengan sempurna.

Kentang di dalam telurnya menyatu dengan sekilas rasa bawang dan karamel. Cheewy, creamy, and just the right amount of runny. Exquisito! Tampilannya memang sederhana, tapi rasanya luar biasa. Ditambah ramahnya sang waiter yang mirip bintang telenovela, membuat segalanya menjadi lebih indah.

Casa Dani

The best tortilla in in the whole country, more than a little omelette bar. You can’t miss this place!

Cl. de Ayala, 28, 28001 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Minggu 9AM–5PM

Best seller menu: Pincho de tortilla – Spanish Omelette 2.80 Euro | Rp. 49,000

This place is really popular so be prepared to wait in line, but once you are seated and place your order, the food comes out quickly and the service is efficient

Direction: Google Maps Location

Coffee is always a good partner

They use all the ingredients from this market. So fresh!

This Spanish bar is located inside the beautiful food market

Saya sempet bingung bingung nyari lokasinya, sempat bertanya pada warga setempat dan ternyata spanish bar ini ada di dalam pasar. Pasar modern yang tidak terlihat seperti pasar.

5. Santiago Barnebeu – Real Madrid Stadium

Being pitch side during the tour is in incredible as you really see how high the stands are!

Santiago Berdebu. Stadion dari klub terbaik di dunia. Tim yang memecahkan rekor juara Liga Champions terbanyak, sampai 13 kali! Saya mengawali tur dengan pameran foto, video, dan trofi-trofi pencapaian Real Madrid.

Mulai dari trofi liga Champions, liga Spanyol, Copa Del Rey, sampai Golden Boots dan Ballon d’Or milik Cristiano Ronaldo. Ahh, sang mantan terindah.

I felt so delighted and privileged to see this legendary stadium inside out. Everything is amazing, the changing rooms, the feel…, and the perfectly green straight grass on their pitch

Pemain baru Real Madrid yang siap merumput di rumput tetangga. A new transfer from Nankatsu. Posisi: Gelandangan Menyerang.

His motto: ‘Real man is not a woman, Real Madrid is a football club’ Kemampuan Utama ➕: Menyerang dalam gelap Melewati lawan dan menikung teman Mencetak Goal dari sudut sulit, termasuk dari luar lapangan

Kekurangan ➖: Suka lupa kalo sudah makan Lemah dalam bertahan apalagi kepada mantan Sering terkena jebakan offside, karena duduk dibangku penonton sambil ngemil popcorn

This is Ronaldo’s third Golden Boot, the second with Real Madrid

The changing rooms. The Tour is spectacular even for me as a neutral

Setelah itu saya memasuki memasuki tempat duduk stadion di bagian atas, melihat hijaunya rumput yang menyegarkan mata. Kemudian melewati lorong menuju lapangan layaknya pemain beneran, duduk di kursi pemain cadangan, masuk ke ruang konferensi pers, sampai memasuki ruang ganti pemain.

Estadio Santiago Bernabéu

81,000-capacity ground for Real Madrid, with regular matches plus tours of stadium and trophy room

Av. de Concha Espina, 1, 28036 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Sabtu 9:30 AM – 7 PM. Minggu 10 AM – 6:30 PM

Entrance Fee: Buy Online 14 Euro | Rp. 243,000. Buy at the ticket office 17 Euro | Rp. 295,000. Reserve your visit here realmadrid.com

Direction: Exit from Santiago Bernabeu Metro Station Google Maps Location

Terakhir ada Mega Store yang menjual berbagai macam pernak-pernik official Real Madrid. Mulai dari jersey, jaket, syal, topi, gantungan kunci, botol minum, komplit plit plit plit. Stadion ini memang gereja bagi pecinta Madrid.

A Disneyland for Real Madrid fans. Football cathedral. An imposing sight from the outside but it is much more amazing once you step inside. I can see how it’s one of the Europe’s most famous venues

6. El Retiro Park

The perfect place to relax on a beautiful day. There’s a large lake for those interested in hiring a boat and a lot of walking paths and lawns to lie out on.

Taman raksasa yang dihiasi patung, monumen dan danau yang anggun. Saya berjalan melewati jalur setapak diantara pepohonan yang rindang. Memperhatikan sepasang kekasih bermesraan di bawah The Monument of Alfonso XII.

Mereka duduk berpelukan sambil sesekali berciuman. Pacaran tidak pernah sehistorik ini. Ingin rasanya saya berteriak ‘Mister, butuh peran pengganti?’

Diantara semilir angin, saya berjalan kaki mengagumi keindahan suasana taman. Banyak orang bersantai dengan berbaring di rerumputan, duduk di kursi taman dan mendayung di kolam. Tempat terbaik untuk melarikan diri dari dunia nyata.

Such a beautiful and romantic park, filled with beautiful sculptures, monuments and a peaceful lake

Parque de El Retiro

The largest parks of the city, 19th-century park with boating lake & rose garden, plus numerous fountains & statues

Plaza de la Independencia, 7, 28001 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Minggu 6–9PM

Direction: Google Maps Location

I enjoy having a walk, taking pictures and unplug from the world

The green heart of the city. Sprawling over 350 acres park that full of lovely gardens, fountains, statues and beautiful architecture!

7. Vait Cafe

Inayati Nurul, nama dari gadis berkacamata yang bekerja di cafe ini. Kami berkenalan setelah dia bertanya

‘Kayaknya logatnya ga asing?’

‘Eh, orang Indonesia’. Ternyata logat English Jowo saya begitu kental baginya.

Bertemu dengan warga Indonesia dinegara lain memang menyenangkan. Saat saya memesan Latte Macchiato double shot, dia menjawab dengan sinar mata yang ramah,

‘Udah bayar single shot aja.’

‘Serius? You’re too kind.’ Balas saya dengan mata berbinar.

Ternyata toleransi antar warga sebangsa dan setanah air itu masih ada.

Selagi menunggu Napolitana dan pesanan kopi dibuat, kami sempat bercakap-cakap. Yang paling saya ingat adalah saat dia bercerita kalo sudah lama di Madrid, dan kemungkinan besar, gak bakal balik lagi ke Indonesia.

‘Gak kangen?’ ujar saya.

‘Kangen si, tapi udah nyaman disini.’

Dalam hati saya bergumam ‘Apakah memang lebih baik hujan emas di negeri orang, daripada hujan batu di negeri sendiri?’

Vait Cafe

Calle de Alcalá, 54, 28014 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Minggu 9AM–10PM

Direction: Google Maps Location

8. Gran Via

Champs-Élysées versi Madrid. Surga belanja di jalan raya lurus nan panjang. Trotoarnya berjejer rapi dengan pertokoan berarsitektur kekaisaran Hapsburg. Sepanjang mata memandang terlihat outlet-outlet bermerek, ada H&M, Zara, Adidas, Bershka dan Prada.

Konon memakai barang branded membuat gengsi dan pede kita akan meningkat.

Just like what Aladdin said, ‘If you don’t have anything, you have to act like you own everything’

Gran Via

One of the best shopping streets in central Madrid

C/ Gran Vía, 46, 28013 Madrid, Spain

Open 24 Hours

Direction: Google Maps Location

9. Mercado de San Miguel

Pasar dengan stand-stand makanan spanyol yang menggiurkan. Disini saya nyobain Tapas, nasi goreng seafood – Paella, irisan paha babi – Jamon Iberico dan Wine cocktail – Sangria. Selain itu ada kaviar, cheese, lobster dan berbagai jenis cake. Bener-bener surga makanan yang gak boleh dilewatkan.

Mercado de San Miguel

Circa-1916 covered market offering local food in an elegant ambiance. Gourmet market, with over 30 vendors selling a wide variety of freshly prepared tapas, hams, olives, seafood, cakes and cheeses. Beer, wine and champagne are also available.

Plaza de San Miguel, S/N, 28005 Madrid, Spain

Hours: Senin – Minggu 12PM–12AM

Direction: Exit from Sol Metro Station Google Maps Location

10. Plaza Mayor

Hiruk pikuk suasana malam memberikan sensasi keceriaan. Alunan lagu musisi jalanan berderu dengan suara manusia. Alun-alun yang dulunya tempat adu banteng ini, sekarang menjadi lapangan yang dikelilingi pertokoan, kafe dan restoran.

Plaza Mayor

Cafes & restaurants line the arches of this stately square with Philip III’s statue in the center

Plaza Mayor, 28012 Madrid, Spain

Direction: Google Maps Location

Hari itu merupakan malam terakhir saya di Eropa. Setelah 20 hari mengitari benua biru, saya masih merasa kurang. Mengapa saat kita bersenang-senang, waktu terasa begitu cepat?

Liburan memang seperti bintang jatuh, dia meluncur cepat dengan keindahan yang mengagumkan. Seperti kata Dee Lestari: ‘penuh kesan, tapi dengan cepat melesat hilang.’

Ternyata liburan, gak beda jauh dengan pujaan hatimu.

COVID makes us learn that travel is a privilege. So don’t take it for granted.

Because tomorrow is not even promised. We can suddenly go and leave everything behind

Hala Madrid! Top 10 Things to do Short escape kita belakangan adalah ke indomaret. Shopping snack lalu nonton Netflix, buka-tutup kulkas lalu selonjoran, …

#Madrid #Real Madrid #Santiago Barnebeu Tour #Spain #Spanyol #Things to do in Madrid

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kaffeinic · 5 years

Text

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader // Mildly Adult Language

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

The night had finally passed, completely uneventful. The next morning, you found yourself slipping into a black button-up, black ripped jeans, and Doc Martins. Before exiting your apartment, you slipped on a black trenchcoat, grabbing your bag and running a hand through your hair. The cold December air bit your nose, causing you to sneeze. You rubbed it cautiously, praying that it wouldn’t start leaking.

The day at university passed agonizingly slowly, and you found yourself restless in your seat by the last class. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey~!” Junseok said. “How’s it going?” He asked. You smiled. You’ve both grown much closer since the failed date with Chan. He helped you get through it by remaining peachy lol throughout the process. You couldn’t help but wonder why he would still help, even after you chose Chan over him.

“I’m alright. I have a lot floating through my mind at the moment. What about you?” You asked. He frowned.

“When are you going to tell me what was bothering you?” He questioned. “If you want my help, I need to know.” He said. You hung your head and nodded.

“I’ll tell you after class.” You promised. He smiled and hummed in understanding. The professor lectured the class for another half hour before giving you all the details of your assignment. You scribbled down the information and closed your notebook, slipping out of the classroom quietly. Junseok quickly caught up with you.

“So?” He said. You sighed, feeling bad for complaining to him about what happened with Chan after what had happened between the two of you.

“Chan and I were going on a date. Seoyeon showed up.” You began. His face twisted into a grimace when you mentioned Seoyeon. He nodded, waiting for you to continue. He must not be on good terms with her, either. “She told me that Chan had been kissing other people at the party. He had told me he wasn’t going to date or do anything along those lines long before that party.” You said. Junseok began to laugh. You wore a horrified expression. “Are you laughing at me?” You asked. He composed himself, then shook his head.

“No. Meet me at the café in an hour and a half.” He said. You cocked an eyebrow.

“What does this have to do with anything?” You asked. He smiled.

“Just trust me. Have I done anything wrong to you before?” He questioned. You shook your head. He had been nothing but kind to you from the moment you both first spoke.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” You said. After departing, you went to the library, which was a five minute walk from the café. Typically, you would have just waited inside the coffee house, but you didn’t want to have to face Chan any earlier than necessary. After spending nearly all of your time reading a fantasy book with a title you couldn’t pronounce, you left the library and walked a block and a half to the café. The tinted doors revealed very little about what was going on inside. You crossed your fingers, hoping to avoid a crisis.

“Junseok better have a good reason for this...” You muttered, entering the building. The bell chimed, and your nostrils were flooded with the amazing scent of espresso. You hummed, closing your eyes for a moment before closing the door. You made an audible ‘ah’ sound as you spotted the source of the aroma. A steaming cup of espresso sat idly on the bar counter next to Mrs. Park, who waved enthusiastically.

“Y/n! How are you, honey?” She asked. You smiled, walking over and sitting in your usual bar stool.

“I’m alright. You?” You asked. She hummed.

“I’m doing very well. We’ve been busy. Chan has been a big help.” She said. You watched as her glance found yours when she said Chan’s name. She clearly wasn’t over what had happened. You looked at your hands, which were resting in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. It was then that you heard the bell ring again, Junseok appearing in the doorway. There were two people behind him, but you couldn’t quite see who it was. He telling them to come inside. A girl walked in, waving to you. You hesitantly waved back, peering around the edge of the doorframe. A man was standing outside, apparently refusing to come in.

“Come on, this will help - I promise.” Junseok said the the mystery man. You saw a silhouette shake its head. Junseok grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him into view. It was Chan. His hair was in crazy, disheveled curls per usual, and his gaze found yours instantly. You looked at Junseok with a scowl that closely resembled Chan’s.

The three of them made their way to you, Chan trailing behind. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding his face. He wasn’t mad, as far as you could tell. He was just very uncomfortable. You fully understood why. He donned a plain white tee, blue jeans, and a pair of boots. A sweater was hanging over his right forearm, the soft blue colour catching your eye.

“Y/n, meet Eunji. Eunji, meet Y/n.” Eunji held out her hand hesitantly, and you shook it with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said. She seemed immediately more relaxed when you spoke with a soft tone.

“You, too.” She said.

“Eunji has something she wants to tell you.” Junseok said. You raised a brow and looked at the girl. She nearly hid her entire face in her hair, looking away.

“Junseok told me about what happened with you and Chan.” She said. “Did he never tell you what happened?”

You looked down. “I didn’t listen when I first was told about it. He explained the last time we spoke, but he has no proof.” You said. Eunji nodded.

“At the party, - it was my first one - I was playing a game with some friends from university. It was a tweaked version of Truth or Dare.” She said. “All of us were drunk, - not Chan, he was just watching - and I was dared to kiss the hottest guy in the room.” She looked at the floor. “It was me, not Chan. I walked up and kissed him, and he pulled away really quickly.” She explained. “You can ask Junseok, too. He was watching us with Chan. They’re really good friends.” She said. “I’m so sorry for this.”

You stood up and walked closer to her. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t know.” You said. She looked up, a small smile gracing her face. “Thank you for telling me, really. This changes everything.” Chan’s head raised and turned in your direction, eyes hopeful. Junseok smiled, walking to you. He enveloped you in a big hug, laughing.

“Treat him well. He’s head over heels for you.” He whispered in your ear. You wrapped your arms around him, too. He gave you a squeeze before pulling away, motioning for Eunji to exit with him. You bowed to her and smiled, thanking her again. Now it was just you and Chan in the café, completely ignoring the busy atmosphere around you. You moved closer to him, smiling slightly.

“You were telling the truth.” You said. “I’m sorry for doubting you.” Chan’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I think anyone would have.” He said. “Are... we good now?” He stuttered over his last sentence, looking directly into your eyes. You giggled and nodded.

“We’re more than good.” You said. He laughed and closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your body. He hugged you tightly - so tightly, in fact, that you couldn’t even wrap your arms around him. He chuckled as you grunted with effort. He loosened his grip and pulled away slightly, looking at you with loving eyes.

“I missed you, Babygirl.” He said. You smiled gleefully.

“I missed you, too.” You replied. He grabbed your hands and led you around the corner, just out of the line of sight of the customers in the café. He put his hand on your cheek.

“Now, since you were so bent out of shape about a illegitimate kiss, can I have a real one?” He asked. You looked down, giggling at his cheeky attitude. Nodding, you felt his other hand tilt your chin upwards. He leaned down and softly brushed his lips against yours, smiling into the kiss. You rolled your eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted a real kiss.” You said. Chan smirked at your comment, moving closer so that your body was sandwiched between his and the wall. You could feel his chest move as he exhaled and inhaled, clasping the sides of his shirt in your hands. You felt his solid body beneath the fabric as his nose brushed against yours. He closed the gap, this time kissing you deeper. He wasn’t rough, but the kiss wasn’t as ghostly soft as it had been the first time. Your heart jumped when his fingers grazed your neck. You sighed into the kiss, which was significantly longer than the previous one. When he pulled away, you let out a small whine, inducing a deep laugh to erupt from him.

“I’d kiss you more, but it’s poor work etiquette.” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“Aren’t you off the clock?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you would never forget it if someone caught us kissing in the hall.” He informed, touching his nose against yours. You giggled again, placing a hand on his right cheek, to which he smiled, a small dimple gracing the other. He moved sideways to give you a peck as he pulled away. His hands stayed wrapped around yours, rubbing circles.

“I really am sorry for not believing you, Channie.” You said. He released his grip on one of your hands, touching your face so as to make you look at him.

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You had every reason to think what you did.” He said. You smiled, and he rubbed his thumb over the lifted edge of your lips. “We have a lot to catch up on.” He said.

“What do you mean?” You asked. He frowned.

“I know where your phone is.” He said. You raised a brow.

“Where?”

“Seoyeon has it.” Your eyes widened.

“When did you find out?” You asked.

“This morning. When it had first gone missing, I let a friend of mine know. He works at the service company. I asked if he could be on the lookout for pings or anything that could tell us where it was.” Chan explained.

“How do you know Seoyeon has it?” You raised a brow.

“She clears out an entire section of the gym twice a week. It pinged there twice, and only on the days that she would be there.” He said. Your head hung as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“I should have known she was part of this.” You said.

“How about we go get your phone back?” He asked, grinning.

“You’re way too excited about this.” You said. He laughed.

“An opportunity to put Seoyeon in her place, and finally being able to get your number?” He said. “Hell yeah!”

Fanart time!

This chapter’s fanart is by @woo-for-woojin! I love this! Feel free to send in your own fanart as well!

There’s the ever-awaited fluff! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please drop a like and reblog with your feedback for all of your friends, mutuals, and any other kpop lovers to see~ Thanks for reading, and have a nice day!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @deceased-pumpkin-babe • @ethereal-chanracha • @midnatwlp • @joohowdy • @ckyunwon • @yeollliee • @aquietkerfuffle • @royalhvangs

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hjslovebot · 5 years

Text

barista au with jisung

genre: fluff, bulleted scenario

word count: 2292

so imagine you work at a cute lil cafe with jisung

the way you got to know each other is actually a pretty cute story

he's worked there a bit longer than you, and you were always a frequent customer before applying and ultimately being hired

you, like anyone else who has ever come into contact with him, absolutely adored jisung

your smile would get a little wider when you pushed open the glass door and saw him standing behind the register, and his was always twice as bright

so on your first day, jisung was quite surprised when you casually stepped behind the counter instead of placing an order

he already knew your name from the numerous times he'd write it on your paper cup (๑>ᴗ<๑)

still, him speaking it in a questioning tone made your heart skip a beat or five

"you're the new girl?"

"and you're her trainer!" your new manager chimed in, giving jisung a supportive pat on the shoulder before derobing from her apron. "my shift's about over. (yn), good luck, i believe in you... jisung, don't scare the girl away, please"

and then there were two

"well, i've never had the responsibility of training someone before, so i guess just watch and learn?"

being in this new environment was kind of scary for you, admittedly

but now knowing that this was a learning process for the both of you made you feel a little better

jisung started by placing a tiny ceramic mug under what you recognized to be an espresso machine. "this is as easy as it gets" he joked

it was the single push of a button and the smell of warm espresso filled the whole cafe

learning to steam milk, however, didn't go as smoothly

first attempt, you may or may not have sprayed foam all over your sparkling new apron

before you had a chance to feel even the slightest twinge of embarrassment, jisung was quick to clean up the mess and tell you the story of his first time making an absolute mess of the workspace

he was being so reassuring and paying such close attention to making sure you were comfortable learning the ropes and AH he was just the sweetest boy “o(*^▽^*)o”

after one or two more tries, you poured the contents into a cup and added in a spritz of flavor

satisfied with your work and finally snapping on the lid, jisung outstretched his arms to you with the cup in his hands as if he were presenting you a gift

"now you know how to make a caramel macchiato, your favorite"

AAAAAAAAAAA

hoping the blush you felt in your cheeks wasn't too painfully obvious, you took the cup from his grip and sipped it

"it's delicious" you praise "but it's better when you make it"

he scoffed jokingly in denial of your words, "nonsense! you're a pro already."

the remainder of your first shift and your next few days carried on exactly like this

you were torn between thinking jisung was flirting with you or maybe he was just trying to be a supportive coworker

no matter which it was, you couldn't complain

fast forward about a week or so

you're a pro at your job by now, tackling every task with ease

you have none other than your beloved coworker and blatant obvious crush jisung to thank for your expertise (ღˇ◡ˇ)

you're working by yourself one night when jisung comes in to visit

"oh, how the tables have turned" he'd joke

this was the first time your roles were swapped, jisung was the customer and you were the barista behind the counter

jisung ordered a caramel macchiato

you didn't know it at the time but as much as he was a fan of sweet things, he had never tried that drink, he just wanted to try a taste of the thing he knew brought you so much unnecessary happiness

jisung stepped over to the pickup counter, which was so conveniently placed right next to where the espresso machine was, and watched as you prepared the drink for him

"can you quit hovering?" you asked, "you're making me nervous"

"oh, so i make you nervous?" he cracked

"i don't need a cute boy staring me down when i'm trying to focus on my craft"

you almost floored yourself with the boldness of your statement

having absolutely never been one to flirt, you had no idea what corner of your mind that came from ?????

but before you could react, jisung hit you back with the "now you know how i felt for the past year when a pretty girl like you would come into this place and order from me"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a million alarms started going off in your head when he said that

jisung??? calling you pretty??? and being made nervous by you??? (/ω＼)

in WHAT WORLD

"h-here you go," you stumble, passing him the cup

"its delicious," he says, before even tasting it, a cocky grin on his face

you roll your eyes at him, feigning nonchalance and returning to the register to help the next customer

jisung, being as beautifully torturous as he was, didn't go very far

you continually snuck glances at him cozied up in the corner of the cafe, sat at a table with his laptop open and earbuds in

you were incredibly curious as to what he may have been watching or doing over there, so when the time came for you to take your dinner break, you settled into the barstool next to his. "what's all this?"

"oh!" hitting the spacebar and pulling an earbud out, jisung turned to you. "jesus, (yn), you scared the hell out of me!"

you mentally scolded yourself for wanting to kiss that stupid cute pout off of his face

"sorry," you said, eyes glued to the complex bars and waves on his laptop screen. "what is this?" you repeated

"oh, this is a song i'm working on," jisung said as if there was no weight behind it

jisung makes music???

up until that moment you never really considered what kind of person he was outside of that cafe, and suddenly you felt so overwhelmed with the desire to know him as well as you knew the four walls that brought you together

"can i- do you mind if i have a listen?"

"of course! but not yet, it isn't finished yet" jisung took a sip from his macchiato, raising a finger with an idea. "tell you what," he proposed, placing the cup back on the table. "if i have it finished by the time you close up tonight, we can stay a while and i'll show you a couple tracks i've been working on"

something about the sound of that got your heart THUMPIN

so naturally, you agreed to it

by the time the pair of you left the cafe, it was nearing midnight

impressive, considering the place closed at 8

you learned so much about jisung as he showed you song after song

there was the obvious

he was an amazing rapper and an even better singer

and then there were the more subtle things like the messages he'd leave within his lyrics

you could tell this was something he was so passionate about and something about that was so admirable to you ❤︎(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

you cursed your heart for doing what it was doing to you as you got into your car that night

but what you didn't know was that jisung was hiding an entire folder of demos that he had produced or written that were inspired by the time he'd spent with you

days became weeks

weeks became months

you were falling head over heels in love with your job

and head over heels in love with jisung

you were two peas in a pod and every shift you had together felt more like fun than a job

you even began hanging out independently which you were so excited about but tried your best to contain aaaAAAAAAA

you were so happy to be spending so much time with him despite the multitude of tugs against your heart strings that came as a package deal

by now it had been a good three months and you were past the point of denying your feelings

you'd just accepted the fact that you just so happened to be working with, and becoming friends with, your absolute dream boy

you were certain of your own feelings

but that didn't mean you weren't oblivious to jisung's

so much so that when a customer by the name of felix left you a tip with his phone number written messily on a napkin, you didn't notice the immediate change in jisung's demeanor

you didn't think he even noticed the exchange, as he was busy filling the pastry case on the opposite end of the aisle

that felix kid was cute, but you were so whipped for a boy who had no idea about your feelings that you simply accepted the tip with a smile and threw away the napkin

it wasn't until much later that night that you realized something was bothering jisung

usually after the store closes one of you would play music from your phone and you'd be using spatulas or whipped cream cans to serenade the other terribly from the opposite end of the store

but no

not tonight

tonight jisung was quiet

you watched him with confusion behind your eyes as he wiped down the counters in silence, earbuds blocking out any efforts you'd make to confront him

you started to wonder if maybe you had done something to upset him

but you had no idea what you could have possibly done

your mind was being sent in an absolute whirl and you didn't like it

you decided it'd be best if you took a moment for yourself, so you stepped into the back room and heaved out an anxious sigh

much to your dismay, jisung was in close quarters

he breezed past you to throw away the rag he had just dirtied up, not even looking in your direction

"jisung," you deadpanned, of course to no avail. he still had his damn earbuds in.

two could play at this game

you shut the swinging doors and stood guard in front of them, arms crossed stubbornly so he couldn't get through to the outside before passing through you

"jisung," you repeated.

he looked straight at you with his wide eyes, pulling out the earbuds that were distracting him from you in the first place

"can i help you with something?"

you scoffed at his arrogance "'sung, what is your problem?!"

"i don't have a problem," he pouted, pushing past you with ease

you rolled your eyes, hating how he barely stood an inch taller than you but your strength was nowhere near matching his

"okaaay," you tried, following him out into the dining hall. "then can you tell me what my problem is, so i can fix it?"

eventually

jisung couldn't take it anymore

he'd spent three months bottling up everything he's felt and as soon as he thought something more was beginning between you

felix had to show up

“he's pretty cute, isn't he," jisung said quietly

he couldn't quite meet your eyes

"who?" you were absolutely racking your brain by now. "'sung, what on earth are you talking about?"

"felix, was it?"

all in the matter of seconds, everything made sense

jisung had read the entire thing completely incorrectly because

just as you thought

he didn't catch all of it because he was standing a bit far away from you

"fuck," you said without a thought behind it

what you took as a bad attempt at hitting on you that you completely brushed off

jisung saw as:

cute boy walks into cafe

cute boy gives barista his number

barista smiles and takes it from him

"i threw it out," you blurted

"i didn't even read it. i made him his drink and i was polite because that's what i'm getting paid to do. i have no interest in anybody els-"

you paused

why did jisung care in the first place?

"jisu-"

your question was answered in an instant

you were so distracted by your own rambling that you hadn't noticed jisung moving closer to you

and those rambles were cut short by the soft touch of his hand on your face as jisung hushed you with his lips on your own

!?!?!?

the kiss was over as soon as it had started

you barely had time to even register that it had happened before jisung was leaning back to get a better look at your face

"i was going to say," you breathed, "i have no interest in anybody else but you"

"i'm sorry i acted like a baby," he said sincerely, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "i was just scared. i didn't want the past three months to have been for nothing over one stupid customer who doesn't know how to keep to himsel-"

this time it was your turn to shut him up by kissing

you made a mental note that it was super effective!

"'sung, you don't have to worry," you laughed airily. "i've only had eyes for you for quite a bit longer than three months"

you could feel him physically relax in your embrace at the sound of your words

he rested his forehead against yours and locked your hands together

"here i thought you actually liked me for my caramel macchiatos, not just my amazing good looks," he joked.

you smiled, leaning up and gently placing a single kiss to his nose

"don't worry, you've got both."

note: ahhhHHH my first time with a bulleted scenario on here instead of a full blurb!! do you guys like this format? i need some feedback on this one but i’m super excited about this one! i’m a barista myself so it was super fun for me to write this, i hope u love it <3

#han jisung fluff #han jisung scenario #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagine #jisung fluff #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids #stray kids fluff #hjs #fluff #bulleted #complete

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sippingchai · 6 years

Text

From The Ground Up | Part 1

Summary: The first encounter and hopefully not the last.

A/N: Coffee Shop!AU. I hope y’all like this. Feedback appreciated. Please let me know what you think.

It’s a Tuesday morning the first time he comes in and she catches herself staring a bit longer than she intends to. There’s something about him that she can’t quite put her finger on, his face etched with exhaustion as he stands back to examine the menu. He’s cute, that’s for sure, but she doesn’t let that distract her. Tries not to, at least. Yet she can’t help but cast a few glances his way while she pulls a shot on the espresso machine.

It’s all second nature to her, the way she navigates behind the counter preparing the milk for steaming. She finishes pouring the steamed milk into the espresso, wiping off the side of the ceramic mug before yelling out a name and placing it on the bar.

“Your cappuccino’s up, Mike!”

Mike rises from his seat in the corner, setting the day’s newspaper down on the table before he walks up and retrieves his drink. He’s one of those regulars that fly under the radar, tipping his head in thanks before he’s back scouring the financial section.

By the time she turns back to the counter, the mystery customer has made his way up. Christ, she thinks, he’s gorgeous. He’s been searching the menu the entire time, eyes fixated on the wall above her head while he haplessly rubs the side of his neck. Now that he’s closer she can see the circles under his eyes and she can’t help but feel for him. She runs her hands along the front of her apron, smoothing the fabric while she calms her nerves.

“Hey, what’ll you have today?” She manages to ask, tone more soothing than she anticipated. He gives it a second and she can see the wheels in his head turning before he tells her his order.

“I’ll get a 16 ounce Americano. Room for cream, please.” His voice is rich with a hint of sweetness, but there’s an overall coarseness that doesn’t sound like it belongs there.

“Simple, yet effective.” She mutters, and she can see the tick in his jaw when he gives her a half smile. “Is that for here or to go?”

“I’ll uh...I’ll take it to go.” He stumbles over his words, fighting off a yawn that succeeds and he rubs the tired away from his eyes. Normally, she’d let it go, mind her own business because she doesn’t need to pry into people’s lives but this tired stranger has piqued her interest and she can’t help but ask.

“I don’t mean to be nosy but are you okay?” The question throws him for a loop, it’s evident in the way his jaw tenses and how his eyes widen for a split second. He wasn’t expecting someone to notice his dire state. Especially not the pretty girl making his coffee. He racks his brain to formulate an answer, something that’s sufficient without spilling his guts to his barista.

“It’s been a rough morning.” He sighs, avoiding her gaze while he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. “How much do I owe you?” For a moment she sizes him up, takes in the in curls in disarray on top of his head and the kind, yet tired look on his face.

“It’s on the house today.” She tells him nonchalantly, ignoring the debit card he’s left on the counter while she grabs a to-go cup for him. There’s a soft smile that plays on his lips while he stares, taken aback by her kindness.

“Thank you,” He mumbles. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She reassures him, reaching for the sharpie in her apron. “What name should I put on this?”

“Shawn,” He utters, and for the first since he stepped foot into the shop he actually smile, those pretty pearly whites gleaming back at her. “My name’s Shawn.”

“Alright, Shawn.” His name rolls off her tongue effortlessly. “I’ll have this right up.” There’s a sense of giddiness that courses through her, butterflies in her stomach that she tries to shake but it’s no use.

“What’s your name?” He blurts out, startling her for a moment while she pours hot water into the cup. There’s a slight edge in his voice, but she narrows it down to it being her imagination. “I just like to know who’s making my coffee.” Shawn explains, a hint of pink creeping on his cheeks. It’s endearing, she thinks, that he wants to know when most people don’t bother to ask.

The bell to the front door chimes before she can answer, captures both of their attention as Yuri rushes in for his shift, apron draped over his shoulder.

“Mornin’, y’all.” He nods to her and Shawn, and it’s safe to say a part of her is peeved that he interrupted the moment.

She returns to the task at hand, focusing on finishing the concoction in front of her. The smell of coffee permeates the air and in an odd sense it’s comforting. She turns her head, only to catch Shawn staring for a split second before he turns his gaze away to the canister of creamer in the lobby counter. The urge to bite back is smile is strong and she tries her damndest to conceal it, but it breaks through while she pours his shots, making sure there’s ample room for cream on top.

When she turns around to face him she finds him scrolling through his phone, but he perks up the minute she places his drink down.

“Room for cream,” she laments, setting a lid beside his coffee. He takes her offering, topping off the remaining room with cream that he stirs in.

“Everyone calls me Des.” She interjects, fiddling with the sharpie in her apron pocket. “Short for Desiree.”

“Des.” He repeats, as if he were committing it to memory. “Thanks, Des. I really appreciate it.” His tone is soft, grateful.

“No problem,” she smiles. “Take care of yourself, Shawn.”

“I plan on it,” He promises as he reluctantly starts to move for the door. “You, too.”

Des watches as he starts to leave, long legs carrying him to the front of the store. He’s reaches for the door when he finally takes a careful sip of his Americano.

“This is a damn fine cup of coffee.” He turns and lifts his cup at her. She shakes her head, smiling at the reference while wiping down the espresso machine.

“You know where to find more.” She shoots back, gravitating towards the front counter to lean on her elbows. And just like that, he’s makes his way across the street, rounding the corner before he disappears.

“Look at you getting friendly.” Yuri quips, yanking her from her thoughts. He brings over a cooling rack of the morning’s batch of croissants ready for the baked goods case.

“What? He looked like he needed a pick-me up.” Her arms cross defensively in front of her.

“Yeah, a pick-me-up.” He snorts. “Curly top was trying to pick-you-up.”

“Whatever.” She deflects. Des tries to hide her smile, but Yuri is neither stupid or blind. “Keep filling that case.”

A loud crash comes from the kitchen, both of them peeking through the door to see Benny backing away from the full sink.

“I’m good!” He yells out.

By the time Des gets home it’s almost 5 and all she wants to do is crawl into bed from how exhausted she is. She hangs her bag and apron on the hook next to the door, slipping off her shoes while Oscar dashes down the hallway announcing his presence in the room.

“I hear ya, Os.” She reassures her feline friend. “I know you’re starving.” He wails in response, circling between her feet as she pours food into the bowl. They soon turn into purrs of satisfaction once she sets the bowl down.

It doesn’t surprise her that Lacy isn’t home and that she’s probably tucked away on campus somewhere drowning in her Sociology notes. Lord knows she’s complained enough about it. She loves her friend to death, she really does, but she also appreciates the solitude when she’s away.

A carton of leftover Chinese from the night before accompanies her while she settles into the couch. Her camera sits on the table, left there from the weekend’s excursion to the mountains. An envelope of prints sit beside it waiting to be picked through. One of these days.

She eats in silence, Oscar perched across from her on the coffee table in hopes that she spills a noodle or two for him to clean up. But her mind keeps wandering back to the morning. To him, the tired patron to stumbled into work.

“Oh my God.” She tells herself.

Des hasn’t felt this way in what seems like ages. Never thought she would, if she’s being honest with herself. Nerves and excitement coil together in her chest that it almost leaves her breathless. All for a stranger who was having a rough day. She shakes her head, though, tells herself to be realistic. That he’s just a cute guy getting his coffee fix and that she shouldn’t get her hopes up.

The thought of finding someone weighs heavy on her mind sometimes. Not very often, but when she’s alone and deep in her feelings it starts to crawl its way into the back of her mind. She knows better, though. That one day it’ll happen. And maybe, just maybe, that day is sooner than she thinks.

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes Fluff #Shawn Mendes Fan Fic #Shawn Mendes Oneshot #Shawn Mendes Blurb #Shawn Mendes Fan Fiction

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vegandoughnut · 5 years

Text

PART 6, NEXT DAY: Rewind, Play, Paws

"The weather is gross guys. Why does Stephen want us to put the chalk sign out?" Says Kumlyun, snuggled up in her signature oversized turtleneck and matching beanie, sitting on the floor and filling the stoneware cat bowls for pre-opening. Next to her, tall tomboy Harper was petting the mewling and purring cats, all excited about their salmon, tuna and chicken breakfasts. This was the vibe happening at the one and only Furistas Cat Cafe.

"Oh my gosh, Kitt, that nail color looks amazing on you" says Kumlyun to Kitt, who bent down on the floorboards to scrub out some cat footprint stains.

"Thanks so much Kumi. It's called Runs With Wolves by SpaRitual. Supposed to be organic or something" says Kitt, dropping the dirty sponge she used onto a yellow dust pan. "I just like this magicky shade of copper. It sings to my melanin"

"Is that shade name inspired by the new-agey feminist book that was all the rage like a decade ago?" Kumlyun asks.

"Women Who Run With The Wolves" cuts in Harper, in a voice that said: put some respect on its name.

"Okay, this is a cat cafe ladies. Can we talk about cats?" Pradeep says as he joins them on the floor with a tray of espresso shots. "Wolves are so 2008. Drink up. It's gonna be a long day. We have a group event"

"Ugh" says Kumlyun, closing up a bag of fresh, expensive organic cat food. About Pradeep or the news? Who knew. "I saw that in the email this morning. I usually like events but why would a group show up on the rainiest day? They're going to track mud. With our luck it'll be a crew of total weirdos who'll do it almost on purpose"

"Um, we are the total weirdos" says Harper, brushing cat fur either onto or off of her paint splattered cream overalls. "This whole place is a weirdo. And besides, the welcome mat will take care of the wet feet"

Kumlyun, Pradeep, Kitt and Harper all take espresso shots together.

"Okay, we need to put up the umbrella bags stand" says Harper. It was clearly an attempt at bossing. Kitt stirred uncomfortably. Pradeep perked up.

"Let me get the bags. The cats are fed" he says, heading to the back of the cafe and downstairs to the storage room.

After the morning meeting with Stephen their superviser-slash-boss and Boris their elusive manager, and everyone obtaining their schedules and arriving at the last minute, the day unfolds.

While the rain pours outside and the cool Fall air rattles the windows, the cafe is warm, with a soft glow, the aromas of coffee and waffles masks the smell of clean cats and cozy chairs and carpets. Fall leaves decorations hang on the walls and litter the corners. Cat shaped muffins and cookies sit on display behind steamy glass on the bar counter.

"So, Stephen finally made Harper, you know, his fellow Portland weirdo, assistant supervisor" says Kitt as she prepares a bowl of oatmeal for a customer.

"Saw that one coming" says Pradeep with a scowl as he closes the lid on the waffle maker. It makes a hissing sounds that almost compliments their hushed conversation.

"Of all people. He knows how much Harper got on our nerves in the first place, looking for any reason to LARP as boss" Kitt continues, loosening her cotton knit scarf with its cat paws at the ends. "We're short staffed today"

"Carl is sick. Apparently that's why he was feeling dizzy yesterday. I overheard Boris on the phone with him when I was in the storage room"

"Oh, poor baby" says Kitt. "I was missing his face"

"You missed my face more"

"Maybe"

"Hey, tweety 1 and tweety 2" says Kumlyun.

"Wait...."

"Yeah lovebirds. So, we ran out of pecans"

"Kumi, the rain won't hurt you, homegirl. You got that bone straight Korean hair. And besides, Pradeep has a cold" says Kitt.

The customers swipe their cards at the registers while the baristas chat and process the transactions at the same time.

"I do?" Says Pradeep.

"Always believe Kitt. She never lies. Never ever. No. Not even to avoid getting her brand new Doc Martens wet" says Kumlyun, unfastening her waist apron to go change into her raincoat. "See you two later. Don't make me miss the wedding and the baby" she says, blowing a kiss and walking away.

"HR, Kumlyun. That's HR" says Kitt with a pursed smile. Pradeep discreetly smacks Kitt's hip behind the counter.

"You hear that Kitt? You're already pregnant. Amazing what my face can do" he says. The 3 laugh as Kumlyun heads out the door with her umbrella.

"Hey, we drove the darn truck yesterday. We are always sent off on outside missions. It's about time we send other coworkers" says Kitt.

"Yeah" says Pradeep with a sigh. "Literally Harper is supposed to handle all that stuff and leave the kitchen and cats to us but whatever. You know how this place is run"

"Axe backwards" says Kitt.

"Yup" says Pradeep, undoing and then redoing his shiny topknot. Kitt mimics him, pulling up her long burgundy dreads into a very high ponytail.

"I like this little color scheme you got going. You look like Target's seasonal decor line" Pradeep teases. Kitt pinches his arm. "Ow!"

"Meow" Kitt mocks.

"Ow"

"Meow"

"What's going on here?" Comes Harper's voice. "Everything okay? I know we're short staffed and all but you know, the image is really important"

Kitt and Pradeep continue working, albeit quietly, pretending not to hear her.

A few guests sit with their paired cats. Feeding them treats, teasing them with toys and giving them much needed tender love and care. Jazzy music plays on the speakers, setting the mood.

Humbert, whom no one seemed to notice all morning, and quite intentionally, was doing floor duty, handing guests their personal info card lanyards on which they'd scribble their names, occupations and personality types for matching them with one of the cafe's cats.

The door opens-- and just as Humbert was about to shove a lanyard with an index card attached in front of the incoming guest, Kumlyun, dripping and flushed, carrying a grocery canvas tote appears in the doorway, kicking her wet sneakers on the doormat.

"Okay I need to go downstairs" she says, rushing past. As she goes down the stairs to storage, having already dropped off some supplies at the bar, she overhears Stephen on the phone through the wall:

"We don't really have a dress code. Just don't look like a Skid Row..... or like you just woke up in a park with a rat..... you should be fine. No, please no. This is a cat cafe for ....... sake"

Kumlyun covers her mouth to stifle the raucous laughter that shook her entire frame.

TBC

#furistas cat cafe fan fiction #furistas cat cafe #furistas #cat cafe #cat cafe fan fic #fan fic #runaway mobile games #mobile game fan fiction #mobile game fan fic #kumlyun #kitt #pradeep

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settle-down-frohike · 6 years

Text

Late to the game as always!! My submission for @xfpornbattle . I was given an unsexy prompt by @contrivedcoincidences6, my episode being Excelsis Dei, and I’ll be honest, it was *extremely* hard to feel anything resembling smutty after watching it, but I think that was the point. ;) But! I was able to pull prompts 195(dominant Scully) and 38 (Mulder watched Scully have one-night stands for years before making his move) and try to make something work. I do strongly advise re-watching it before you read if, like me, you haven’t in a while.

My eternal gratitude to @lepus-arcticus for going easy on me and making my first beta experience lovely and pain free! <3 If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes at this point it’s from my latest hurried edit and no reflection on her skills at all. And thank you to Idris Elba, for being, well, Idris Elba. ;) Tagging @today-in-fic

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

Shrinking Violet

R: NC-17

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it has something to do with those pills.”

An unsubstantiated solution to the substantiated crime. That was her report in a nutshell.

Thanks, Mulder.

She’s spent the last 5 hours turning that crude statement into an official report, and to say she is tired is an understatement. To make matters worse, Mulder seems to be finding any excuse to stay in the office with her. She understands the fact that he was technically her superior, but she doesn’t literally need supervision, for Christ’s sake. He just keeps hovering around her, just outside of her periphery, like a dog circling a dinner table. Rummaging through cabinets, flipping through files, making much ado about absolutely nothing. It’s incredibly annoying, but at this point she doesn’t have the energy to analyze or address it.

She’s been in the same clothes for close to 18 hours now, and just wants her shower and her bed, in that order. She packs her briefcase and watches from the corner of her eye to see if he does the same. He doesn’t even look up. It isn’t until she is halfway out of the door that he even bothers to speak.

“Hey Scully?”

She turns, her escape thwarted, and regards him with a blank expression, save one raised brow.

“S’good work. This case I mean....I’m glad you pushed it.”

An unexpected wave of rage paralyzes her senses, and for a moment, a rehearsed tirade about his premature dismissal of their victim’s case and its similarities to her own experience plays out in her mind. How it could have so easily been her pleading for someone to validate what her body knows, but what no one can prove-all of the physical evidence that would hold up in a court of law having been erased, her chance at justice stolen, along with a good bit of faith in the system she works for. It lodges in her throat that she’s disappointed in him, maybe for the first time.

She can still hear herself pleading with him to continue to pursue this case, and the memory makes her cringe. Her abduction has her unwillingly humbled, punished for the company she’s chosen to keep, and she hates it. If she’s being punished, she’d might as well commit a crime befitting. Ahab once grounded her for a month after she came in smelling of cigarettes she hadn’t smoked. It’d felt righteous then, on the roof at 3am, choking on an entire pack of her mother’s Virginia Slims. Bad decisions might as damned well be her own.

She doesn’t know herself anymore. The body in the mirror at home is softer than it used to be, it slouches with memories of invasion and abuse. This body betrays her. It keeps secrets now. It’s frustrating to feel patronized by one’s own mind. She appreciates the work keeping her busy, and she hoped coming back as quickly as possible would be the first step in feeling whole again. But she’s not anywhere close to restored. Her edges feel tattered and stitched poorly together, and though her reflection may not show it, she’s a Raggedy-Ann version of her former self. She wants her body back, her memories back, and her autonomy back.

To let him know these things would show weakness. So instead, she smiles tightly at the floor and mumbles some platitude about teamwork or partnership and slips out. If she makes it to the garage fast enough, he won’t have time to wrap up this charade, gather his own things, and follow her home. Again. She’d rather him pull the big brother act when he thinks she’s not looking.

----------------------------------------------------

At the third stop light before the freeway, a Holiday Inn sign reads, “$1 MRGRTAS” and the rebel in her smiles. He won’t follow her in here, and if he does, she’ll hopefully be drunk enough to say what’s on her mind. She’s not ready to be at home alone with those thoughts just yet.

Two hours later, she’s four deep and enjoying her umpteenth cigarette with relish, her nose is pleasantly numb, and her thoughts about her partner are turning maudlin. He’s trying, she reckons. She knows he cares deeply for her. He likes to keep her close, like a lucky rabbit’s foot or some other talisman, rattling around in his pocket with the loose change, carelessly cherished. She remembers a time, not so long ago when she’d been starry-eyed and school-girl smitten with her new partner, with his unexpected good looks and unreachable genius. And for a time, they’d sparked against each other like flint meeting a match. For a time, it’d felt like maybe he’d felt something too. Her disappearance has exposed weakness in them both, she supposes. Her need to push against support instead of leaning into it, and his inability to offer any outright, for fear of not deserving the trust. This thought feels like something resembling forgiveness, and, her anger having dissipated, she’s thinking seriously about paying her tab and calling a taxi. At that moment, an impossibly rich baritone asks if the seat next to her is taken.

The accent is British, and his suit is expensive. He fits in here about as well as she does. He orders Glenlivet, neat. The tequila has her feeling loose limbed and mischievous, so after a few moments of quiet companionship, she slips off her jacket to reveal the pale blue silk shell underneath, just to see what might happen. Her newer, larger breasts stretch against the fine fabric, and if the sensation is unfamiliar and discomfiting, his side glance is not. She swallows any lingering traces of self doubt down with a swish of salt and cheap mix. The game is afoot, and the rush of adrenaline to her brain at her prowess is euphoric. She wants more of this kind of puissance, achieved cheaply, but effective nonetheless.

“You’re not singing tonight?” He nods towards the empty stage, floating lights and karaoke machine at the corner of the bar, unused, thankfully.

“Not tonight,” she smiles into her plastic tumbler, “too much competition.” His resulting chuckle is deep and dizzying.

Afoot, indeed.

She turns her head and is met with a very handsome smile with a face to match, basset-hound eyes and skin the color of strong espresso. His beard is well kept, and only serves to highlight his strong jawline, and sumptuous mouth. The closely tailored suit is doing nothing to hide the brutish build underneath. But he carries it with such elegance. He is fist-bitingly sexy. His handshake is gentle and warm, his name is Miles. There’s a bewitching hint of grey at his temples, and she is suddenly swooning, and damning everything all to hell.

She can’t honestly believe she hears herself ask if he is here alone, but the words come from someone that sounds a lot like her. He nods, and says he’s there ‘on conference’, the way that well-to-do Brits must put it, and the rest of his associates are at the Four Seasons.

“I’m set to give a lecture come morning, and tonight... I just needed a bit of breathing room.”

“Pressures at work?” She asks. He nods and releases a puff of smoke from one of her borrowed cigarettes.

“Comes with the terri’try, I suppose. I’m the head of my department at university. I’m expected to have allll the answers,” he cracks, with a wide sweep of his arm.

She chuffs. “That’s interesting. Lately I feel like I have no answers, only questions. But I think I understand.”

Their eyes meet again, and the air around them is suddenly charged. Not sexual, really, but a kind of understanding, a kinship being formed, and she’s now more drawn to him than ever. She feels brazenly without filter.

“Do men like you, with answers, I mean, does that power ever become a burden?”

“It absolutely does. Yes.”

She surveys the room, nodding. “Well I can assure you, Miles. Being without them can weigh on you just as well.”

He’s watching her still, even as she refuses to return his gaze.

“Can I help?”

That catches her attention. His eyes are crinkled with scrutiny, but something else, something familiar radiates behind the humor. Ah, yes. She recognizes it now. Need. Naked and thinly veiled behind his offer.

“Yes,” she answers, with a Mona Lisa smile, “yes, I think maybe you can.” He gracefully signals the barkeep, and she stands to gather her jacket and purse.

-------------------------------------------------

She shivers visibly as he closes the door to his room, and she chalks it up to the ancient overactive air conditioner by the window and not her nerves. Like the gentlemen she expects him to be, though, he adjusts the setting before relieving himself of his own jacket, and walks to stand before her. But God he is striking, and mysterious and reserved in a way that intimidates and in turn, arouses her. And something about the scent of the cheap furnishings and the last traces of his expensive cologne is intoxicating in an illicit, tawdry sort of way. This feels like an affair. This stranger’s body she’s been inhabiting for the last few months now is behaving like the old Dana would, unmercifully enraptured by an older, powerful man.

“Tell me what I can do,” he says gently, and she’s swept up on a wave of supremecy.

“Take off your clothes,” she orders, softly but firmly, as she begins to relieve herself of her own, “and get on your knees.” His eyes flash brightly and he obeys, an eager supplicant. The slightest sway of her pelvis toward his mouth is all the command he needs, and his tongue snakes between her thighs, smoothly traces her outer folds, seeking entrance. She presses her hand to the back of his head and he growls into her in response. She can see him growing long and thick and hard between his legs, purely on the taste of her. Her voice is husky with want, and the air is saturated with pheromones.

“Make me come.”

And he does. Using long, deft fingers and a dexterous tongue he suckles and strokes with perfect pressure, an even rhythm, until the one leg she has thrown over his broad back becomes two, and she’s lying back on the bed, watching herself thrash and moan from far, far above her body, this dark god of a man at her mercy.

He laps at her gently, bringing her down from orgasm with incredible tenderness. His beard is soaked and glistening when he looks up, and she decides she’s not done with him yet.

“Lie on the bed, now.”

He rises wordlessly, licks his lips, and nods. When he settles, fully prostrate, she rises and stands next to the bed, admiring his form. Every inch of him is perfection. She wants to bite at his pebbled nipples, suckle at his mouth, capture the straining tendons at his neck between her teeth. He’s visibly, if willfully, tortured, and true power is not without mercy.

If she were to straddle and face him, it would feel too intimate. Neither want connection, they want distraction. She wants to use him and he wants to be used. So she turns back and watches herself sink down, slowly, onto his dusky length in the dresser mirror. The woman before her is dominant, formidable, and she’s aching to come again. Her fingers slide down between her breasts, over her mons and past her clitoris, fully engorged, stiff and eager. She finds their bodies’ joining, finds where he enters and his slick girth spreads her open, impaling her as she rises and falls. Her slick, shining fingers reach her mouth and taste their sex, rich and biting. He’s watching her reflection with wide, worshipful eyes. Dipping lower, her fingernails graze the tender underside of his sack, and the muscles in his legs rippling in anticipation, like a thoroughbred at the gate. He thrusts unconsciously and groans helplessly, “God!” and the succubus in her takes over. She growls, “Don’t you dare fucking move,” and starts to work herself ruthlessly, grinding him down and deep against her cervix, the sensation acute and exquisitely painful, over and over again. Her eyes never leave her reflection, even as she is open-mouthed and howling, her second orgasm consuming her like a brushfire. His own climax registers somewhere in the distance.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Her legs are trembling with exertion, an unnamed emotion bubbling it’s way to the surface. She collapses forward, sobbing, as a pair of warm, strong arms envelope her from behind.

“You are incredible,” he whispers, breathless, “a goddess. Now come here.” His commanding tone is softened by English r’s. The fight in her has gone, but he takes no advantage. He tucks her next to him under the thin comforter and tells her sternly, “Give yourself time to heal, girl. You have all the power you seek. Wield it as you wish. You have nothing to prove to anyone but yourself.” The last thing she thinks is how, in this moment, she does feel very much like a girl, newborn and guiltless and so very, very afraid again of what she does not know. What her mind won’t let her remember. For now though, she lets his warmth and his brawn shield her against the demons that beckon.

Come morning, on the pillow next to her, a vibrant, freshly picked violet is all that remains of him.

---------------------------------------------------------------

A disheveled man sits in a parked car across the street from the Holiday Inn, two days worth of stubble coating his cheeks, eyes red-rimmed and shifty. His body shakes, the indignant fury he felt previously now exhausted into fumes of guilt as he watches her come through the sliding doors, out to her car, and follows it as it drives away. She’s safe at least. She’s alive. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

#myfic #msr fic #xf prompt battle #xfiles s2 #fic prompts #excelsis dei #drabbles #idris elba

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sakichi56 · 6 years

Text

LawLicht Week Day 5:

“Hyde, I will be busy giving the angel in training some piano lessons, so make sure you don't bother us.”

“Sure thing angel-chan. I'll behave.”

The dark haired teen narrowed his eyes even more than normal, if possible, as if he didn't believe his partner for a second. But in the end, all he said was “You better.” and then walked away.

Of course, Hyde would try to behave, but there was no guarantee. He wasn't one to follow the rules. It was in his name after, Lawless, to be without law. So if he wanted to go interrupt Mahiru and Licht while they were playing the piano, then he would.

However, he didn't want to upset Licht. Perhaps he would go out there to check on them under the guise of being out there to get a drink. Yes, that could work.

Deciding to give them 10 minutes, before he barged out there, Hyde laid back on the bed, contemplating his plan of action. I can't continuously go out there for a drink, Licht will know what I'm doing. Maybe for a snack later, and while I'm out getting a snack, I can lay something down and go back out even later saying that I'm looking for it. Yeah, yeah that's good.

After the 10 minutes were up, the vampire stood and bounded out of the room, and headed toward the kitchen. The first thing he noticed when he walked through the main room to get to the kitchen, was how close the two males were sitting.

They were pressed shoulder to shoulder, as Licht pointed at things and explained what they were. And Hyde did not like it. He couldn't fault the teen on it though, so he just took a deep breathe, sighed it out, and went on to get his beverage.

As soon as he heard the footsteps getting further, Licht threw a glare over his shoulder. He wasn't sure what the hedgehog was up to, but knowing Hyde, it couldn't be anything good. The young pianist shook his head and turned his attention back to the brunet beside him.

“Okay, now, do I need to teach you what the bars mean?”

The immortal being spent a good long while in the kitchen, making his double espresso as slowly as possible, just to give himself an excuse to be shamelessly watching his lover through the doorway.

It was ridiculous that Hyde could get so upset over this. It's not like Mahiru was going to take Licht from him. Mahiru didn't even like Licht that much. And besides, Mahiru was dating his older Kuro. And the two seemed more than happy together. So this whole thing was just insane.

But he couldn't help it. He didn't like how close they were, or how Licht was giving the other boy his undivided attention. All because he was this ‘angel in training’. What if Hyde said he wanted Licht to teach him the piano? Would Licht act like this with him? Would he even agree to it?

Briefly, he considered storming out there and insisting that he wanted piano lessons too, and that Licht should teach them both at the same time. But that would only result in him getting yelled at and kicked around for interrupting.

Another loud sigh, escaped his lips as he grabbed his favorite drink, and headed back to his room. Completely unaware of the fact that his Eve had heard him sighing twice, and was starting to get irritated.

------------------------------------------------------------

After having finished his drink and waiting half an hour in his room on his phone, the blond decided that it was time to check in on them once more.

He quickly padded his way back out to the kitchen and made himself a ham and cheese sandwich, all the while keeping a keen eye on his lover's back. Dismissively, he placed his phone on the countertop, so he would have an excuse to come back out here later, as Licht never told him how long the two would be at it.

Once his sandwich was done, he walked over to the door frame to lean on it and eat his sandwich, what he saw, almost made him drop the food all together, plate and everything. instead he settled for nearly ripping his hair out with his free hand.

Licht was sitting behind the younger Eve, hands on top of his as he guided him through the motions of a beginner's song called “when the saints go marching in”. His chest was pressed to the other boy’s back! That was entirely too close! Was he TRYING to make him mad?!

No, no. Licht wouldn't do that. He takes his music very seriously. And he has never had many friends, so he probably just doesn't see a problem with this. Yeah, yeah that's all it is. He probably just told Mahiru there was an easier way to show him how to play and the darn simple loving kid probably agreed. Nothing bad is happening. I'm just overreacting.

The oldest male in the room, took another deep inhale of oxygen and released it in a long, grounding exhale. He then ate his sandwich in silence, watching the two teenagers like a hawk. He suddenly felt less like a boyfriend, and more like an overprotective father who would make excuses to check on his daughter whenever she had a boy over to study.

Shortly after this revelation, the sandwich was gone, and Hyde had wandered back to his room once more.

“Umm, Licht-san, is me being here bad? Lawless seems a bit on edge.”

“No, just ignore him. He's just being a brat. If we ignore him for long enough, he may just give up and stay in there.”

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I'm just being paranoid. There is no reason to be upset. But, I mean, how much worse could this get?! They're already pressed as closely together as two people can be! There is no way for this to go any further south. It's fine. I'm fine. Licht and I are fine.

The red eyed immortal took a few more calming breaths and gave the two other males a few minutes reprieve, before he stalked back out to grab his phone.

That, was it. He was going to explode! Rationality be damned! Licht was now, not only sitting with the boy pressed against his chest, but he was being way too nice to the kid now too!

“That's right. Good job angel in training, you only messed up 3 notes that time.” Spoke the tutor as he patted the boy on the head.

“Ah, thanks Licht-san. I couldn't do it without you though!” Said the student as he turned and gave the older boy a bright smile. To which, the teacher gave a very slight upturn of the lip back.

Arrgghh!!! That's it!!! I can't take it anymore! I have to say something!

Just as he was about to March over and give the two a piece of his mind, there was a soft, lazy knock on the door that the two in the main room didn't seem to hear. Giving an intentionally loud and aggravated sigh, the Servamp walked over and yanked the door open, only to be met with a black cat pushing his way inside. Once inside, he shut the door and changed back.

“I'm here to pick up Mahiru. I woke up to find I was home alone and saw a note that said he would be here with the violent angel.”

“Ah, nii-san. Thank goodness! You won't believe how out Eve’s are acting! It's shameful!”

Kuro tilted his head and lazily meandered his way into the main room, Lawless trailing after him.

The two Eve’s were still seated in the position that Hyde had found them in earlier. And while it infuriated him, his brother didn't seem to care at all. He just blinked. As if this didn't matter!

“See?! Look at them! They're dating us and yet they look like they're dating each other right now!”

“So? Just cuz they're sitting like that, doesn't mean anything is going on. Mahiru is too innocent for that. They're just friends Hyde. Besides,” He said as a loving smile took its place on his lips. “I trust him. And I know he would never betray me.”

“You really have that much faith in him? You trust him that much? You don't think, for even a second, that he won't turn around marry someone else all of a sudden for some stupid reason?!”

“I do. With my life. And no, he would never do that to me. Mahiru’s not that kind of guy. And Licht's not either. If he didn't want to be with you, he would tell you upfront. So relax a bit. Hey, Mahiru.”

Upon hearing the bored drawl of his boyfriend, Mahiru's head spun around and a huge sunny smile shot across his face.

“Kuro! You came to get me!” Exclaimed the brunet, as he shot up and raced over to throw himself into the bluenette’s arms.

“Yeah, I woke up alone and without breakfast. And we're out of instant ramen. So I had to come get you so you could feed me.”

“Ugh! Kuro!” He gave the Servamp a light punch in the shoulder, causing a lazy smirk to appear on the taller male’s face.

“I’ve gotta go now Licht-san, but thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun, and I really learned a lot. Bye!”

And with that the Sloth pair left, a black cat on the brunet’s shoulder, nuzzling against his neck. As soon as the door shut, all hell broke loose.

“What the hell was that?!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You two were all over each other! And he said he had ‘fun’ and he ‘learned a lot’ what exactly was happening out here?!”

The dark haired male stood, faced his boyfriend, and crossed his arms.

“Hmph, you should know shit rat, you've been out here plenty, and you have eyes. You should be able to tell. What was the excuse this time?”

“W-what?”

“The bathroom? Or were you just winging it? Decided you’d come out here without an excuse, huh?”

“I-I left my phone in the kitchen while I was making my sandwich…”

The boy scoffed. “Intentionally, I bet.”

He couldn’t come up with a rebuttal, he had him there.

“Look shit rat, you can either cut the crap and just tell me what's going on with you, or we can drop this whole charade all together and you will get no answer.”

The vampire bit his lip. He usually didn't mind whenever Licht won one of their spats, but this time it really bothered him how easily the boy had cornered him and turned this whole thing around on him.

“Fine! I'm jealous okay?! You're my boyfriend and yet you were all close and touchy and nice to my brother's Eve!” For some unknown reason, Licht smirked.

“Oh? I thought you liked a challenge rat. You've never complained before about me not being nice to you. And you say you're upset that I was spending all that time being close to Mahiru, and yet you're not even the Servamp of Envy. You are Greed.”

“Sh-shut up! It's just, it makes me think that, sometimes, you actually don't like me. And I'm entitled to feel jealous! It's part of being greedy! I see something and I want it! And I wanted you attention! So there!”

Suddenly, Licht lowered his arms, his face carrying a serious look, smirk gone, and walked toward Hyde. The blond thought that perhaps he had struck a nerve and they were going to actually fight. But instead, the teen reached out and yanked on his tie. Pulling him forward and smashing their lips together.

His first reaction was to blink owlishly, as he wasn't entirely sure what was happening or what to do. But shortly after, he melted, allowing himself to hum in enjoyment. Not even a second later, the angel pulled back, smirk instantly returning. Hyde blushed.

“I know Hyde. I knew the whole time that you were jealous, it was a bit unwarranted, but you are entitled to feel whatever you want. I just wanted you to admit to it and realize that it's not a bad thing to fess up to it. Now, do you still think I hate you even though I'm dating you? Or are you done being stupid?”

“N-no, not really. You wouldn't have kissed me like that if you hated me. W-wait a minute! You knew?! So you WERE doing all that on purpose! That's so mean Lich-tan! I can't believe you!” He whined.

Licht rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets, clearly done with this whole conversation. Honestly, it was a miracle he hadn't kicked him yet. “Stupid rat, don't accuse an angel of something so evil.”

“But you're not denying it! Lich-tannnnn. How could you! And I was so good too! I didn't interrupt you once. Don't I get some kind of reward?” The pianist turned away, walking off to the bedroom, scoffing as he did so.

“Yeah right, if that's what you call good, then it's no wonder you're a demon. You were practically breathing down our necks the whole time. Checking in like an overprotective father. Or, an incredibly jealous boyfriend.”

For a second, Hyde could have sworn that was mirth he heard in the teen’s voice. Rushing after him, he called him out on it.

“You're enjoying this aren't you? Are you sure you're not the demon in this relationship angel-chan? You are so mean!”

As soon as he finished his sentence, the teen stopped dead in his tracks and turned a fire filled glare on his blond lover.

“How dare you. And after I kissed you like that to make you feel better. You can consider that kiss your compensation for being jealous all afternoon, because I'm an angel, I am nice, and don't forget it shit rat.”

“Right. You're right. You're an angel. Wait. Does that mean anytime I'm jealous I get a kiss like that? If I say I'm still jealous, do I get another one?”

Smirk sliding onto his feature, quickly replacing his upset and shaken look. Licht gave a small groan and shook his head, continuing on to their bedroom, followed closely by Hyde.

“You're deplorable. Go to bed Hyde.”

“No way angel cakes! That was really hot earlier! The way you kissed me like that. I want another! You aren't going to leave your poor, adorable pet hedgehog so distraught, are you?”

“Distraught my ass! You're fine!”

“Nooooo!!! I'm super depressed Lich-tan! You have to kiss me better!”

“Get off right now or else rat!”

The blond laughed, Licht was clearly in a good mood today, so that meant that, despite his threat, Hyde could get away with his actions. So the vampire's response was to throw his arms and legs around the teen, snuggling closer to him on their bed, causing the angel to blush profusely.

“Nevermind angel-chan. This will do just fine. I don't need that second kiss after all, since it embarrasses you so much.” He exclaimed as he nuzzled the boy’s cheek with his own. “You're such an ass...” Muttered the teen.

“Maybe, but I'm your ass!” Chirped the blond.

“Yes, you are. And I love you, despite how much you piss me off rat.”

“Aww, angel baby! I love you too!”

The two laid silently, which was a miracle for the ever loud Servamp of Greed. But eventually, the energetic blond let out a yawn, slowly losing himself to slumber and inadvertently loosening his hold. Licht chose this opportunity to slip an arm out and wrap it around the other male, pulling him to his chest. Instantly shocking the immortal out of his sleepy state.

“Lich-ta-” He started, in his normally loud voice, only being stopped by the raven placing his hand over his mouth and shushing him.

"Speak low, if you speak love."

The blonds eyes widened for a second, but sluggishly closed them as a smile spread across his face and Licht removed his hand.

“Sorry I got so jealous Lich-tan.” He whispered

“It's okay shit rat.”

“No, it's not, it made it was unfair to you.”

“It's know you've got some trust issues from your past, I don't mind. Now go to sleep. Really. It's fine.”

There was a beat of silence as they both closed their eyes.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The smile on the Servamp’s face widened, as a small one formed on his Eve’s face to match him. “Goodnight Lich-tan, sleep well.” He muttered.

“Goodnight Hyde.” He got softly whispered back. And then all was silent, as the two slipped into a peaceful and happy slumber.

THE END

#LawLicht Week 2018 #Day 5 #licht jekylland todoroki #Lawless/Hyde #Servamp #Piano lessons for Mahiru #Hyde is jealous #Fanfiction #kuro/sleepy ash #mahiru shirota

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wanderlustwonderlots · 6 years

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Paris - Day 1

I’m finally back! This was my first thought as soon as the plane landed, the anticipation and excitement making me jittery. It doesn’t feel like it’s been 2 years, but my slightly rusty French skills might say otherwise…

After struggling a bit to find the right kinds of tickets to take the train from the airport to the central métro, and then a few transfers on the métro, we were off! Travelling with someone else, especially my parents, isn’t something that I’m entirely used to. Having to check in with each other and make sure every decision is agreed upon is a practice I must get accustomed to. In any case, we managed to arrive to the AirBnB in one piece after a few hours of travel. Because my knees have been bad recently, I was using my cane, and it was rather difficult to hobble everywhere with my suitcase and carry-on while still using my cane. Not to mention most of the metro stations aren’t accessible, meaning lots and lots of stairs. At least we made it eventually! It was an overnight flight from Toronto and I slept maybe two hours on the plane so I was feeling ready for a nap as soon as we got in, but that wasn’t an option. I didn’t want to completely mess up my sleep schedule on day one. To remedy this, after a quick rest at the AirBnB we went out for an espresso just around the corner, picked up some pastries, and recharged ourselves before going grocery shopping for a few essentials.

We came home and ate some bread, cheese, and fruit (a truly French lunch if you ask me), and then we were off to experience the city a bit! Our plan for the day was to take the metro to Notre-Dame and meander around that area. The church was just as stunning as the first time I saw it, 6 years ago. Has it already been that long since my exchange? I find myself thinking that a lot, and it’s surprising every time.

The line up to get into the church was quite long, both to see the cathedral and go up to the top and do a tour, so we decided to pass on that and stuck with walking around its perimeter to see it from every angle possible. We then headed to a used bookstore nearby I had heard about and was interested in seeing, Shakespeare and Company. This may be false, but I remember seeing something about how you could rent a room above the bookstore for free if you worked in it for a term. Apparently many others had heard about this bookstore, as it was quite crowded. Unfortunately pictures weren’t allowed, so as much as I wanted to capture the nooks and crannies, the ladders going up the walls, and the piles and piles of books, I’ll just have to remember it as well as I can.

We intended to meet Etienne for an early dinner nearby, but the place we wanted to try was closing an hour earlier than it said online, and most other places were closed between lunch and dinner to prepare for the evening service. We also tried to go to a wine bar for a drink before the restaurants opened, but that was closed too! We ended up walking towards the Centre Pompidou, a museum that we were going to after dinner, and found a restaurant just beside it that I chose simply because it was called Le Chat Zen. Anything with a cat and I’m in. It ended up being quite good! It was happy hour so we got some cocktails along with our meals. I went for a vegetarian stir fry, a much-needed overload of vegetables.

We then went to the Centre Pompidou for the exhibition there. It was essentially an evening of sound, with many cool installations and pieces and experiences revolving around sound and art. There was one station that was set up so that you could go to a website on your smartphone and it assigned you a percussion piece (snare, high hat, low tom, cymbal, etc), and you chose when your instrument was hit and with what intensity, so that everyone who participated was making a real-time beat. It was super interesting! There was another section that involved a story-telling aspect – again, we connected to a website that hosted this story about a person’s life, and you had to walk around that floor of the museum and find different art pieces that went along with the story. It was really cool, but to be honest Etienne and I got a bit bored with it and I just wanted to focus on the rest of the art we were passing by, so we didn’t make it to the end of the story.

One of the best parts about this exhibition was that it was free, and we then had access to two of the floors of the museum! And it’s a big place, so we saw tons of amazing art. I recognized a few pieces that I had seen last time I was in Paris, but at that time I had seen them in another museum. It was like encountering an old friend in an unexpected place. Some of the stuff I saw made me inexplicably calm and happy, like a collection from one artist using squares and cubes, but other pieces made me uncomfortable, such as a canvas placed in a corner that was bulging out from the wall. I love being around art that makes me feel anything though, so it was a really amazing night.

Almost without my realizing it, it was suddenly 10pm, and we were exhausted. Etienne helped us find our way to a bus that would take us right to our AirBnB, and we said goodbye until tomorrow. We trudged up the 3 floors to our place, and after getting ready for bed we just collapsed. I ended up sleeping for more than 12 hours! All in all it was a great first day in Paris, great to show my parents some of my favourite things about the city, and great to be reunited with Etienne again.

#france 2018 #may 17 #france #europe #travel #travel blog #travelog #travel tumblr

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thatmiddle · 3 years

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There is Creativity in a Concrete Jungle

I was late. I’m rarely late! I overslept my alarm, so I woke up in a panic and couldn’t find anything I needed to get ready. I usually leave all of my stuff right by my bedroom door so I can find it in the morning, but I guess I didn't do that last night. In a drunken fury, I must have tossed my bag wherever it was convenient because I couldn’t remember its location this morning if my life depended on it. I almost misplaced my lanyard with my student ID, TTC student ID, and metropass. Together all of those items would cost about $200 to replace! I am so grateful I found it wedged between my twin bed frame and the wall. Glad to see half of my brain is working.

Mind you, I couldn’t catch a break today if my life depended on it. By the time I was ready to leave my house, I missed not one but two streetcars westbound into my job. I live in West Queen West area, which isn’t that far from Liberty Village, yet my trip still took an hour! Not to mention the fact that the streetcar was so crowded at the front but almost entirely empty in the back. After I wedged my way between all the assholes at the front, I found one last seat left. It was right in the back at the far right corner, which wasn’t so bad. I just naturally had to step over an enormous unattended pile of bags that had been shoved in the same corner. It didn’t look hard, and I had headphones in, so I just went for it.

“Don’t do that,” I felt someone push me into the seat as the streetcar jerked to the side. Is someone trying to say something to me?

“I’m sorry?” I took off my headphones and looked at the woman sitting next to me, holding onto one of the many bags from the corner.

“Don’t touch my stuff!” She yelled back to me.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to touch any of your stuff. I just saw the empty seat and went for it,” I replied with a soft tone. “Sorry about that.”

“You stupid bitch, DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF!” She raised her voice while looking slightly away from me.

“I won’t, don’t worry about it.” I bowed my head before I put my headphones back on. I do not need this today lady!

It was only five stops, but it felt like an eternity. I jumped off the streetcar, dodged one car, and hopped back onto the street. I wonder how my shift for Nuit Blanche will go.

I’ve never worked a shift during Nuit Blanche, I’ve only ever been to it. It’s the coolest thing about Toronto. Once a year, in the first weekend of October, the entire city becomes a Mecca for Toronto’s art scene, it’s amazing! Regular buildings you never get access to become these weird stages for the strangest art installations imaginable. When I was a teenager all my cool hipster friends would attend Nuit Blanche and I would just stalk their Facebook pictures the following week. I always wanted to be one of those girls with the coolest pictures from Nuit Blanche. Now as a 20-year-old adult I can go all by myself and it’s great. As an adult, it’s legally acceptable for me to be both out at night by myself and drunk in public now and that my friend is sick.

“You’re late,” My boss Chris shouted from the bar as I pushed my way through the front door of my cafe. He had a stern look on his face and his arms were crossed. Is he mad at me or looking for an excuse to flex his muscles in his tight white t-shirt? I can’t tell.

“Yeah I’m so sorry I overslept my alarm, and I missed the first streetcar getting here,” I responded.

“Are you joking? That shit is too good to be true. Don’t you live like 20 minutes away from here? The point is you were late and you didn’t call the store. What the fuck is up with that?” Chris snapped back.

“Oh, um I didn’t think to call the store I didn’t know I was supposed to. I’m sorry Chris,” I looked down and dropped my arms. Now I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I actually fuck up?

“Next time call the store when you’re late don’t be an asshole and leave everyone else hanging. If you do I’ll fire you,” He started to chuckle as he walked past me. “Put your shit down and get the hell out here. I want to go for a smoke break.”

“Yes sir!” I shouted back and ran downstairs. I do not want to make him anymore mad today.

I rushed down the tiny crooked steps and turned the corner to the change rooms. The ceilings are always lower in Toronto shop basements and ours is no different. Our ceiling is about 5′9″ on a good day, and I always forget that. I threw my bag onto the corner of the bench, grabbed my apron and shoes from my cubby, and flew upstairs tying my apron as I travelled.

“Hi, sorry again for being late, but did you see them setting up for that installation next to the park on the east side near those townhouses? I saw the windows of an old building were out and there was water gushing from the side of the building. I wonder what that is about,” I tapped Chris’s hunched back as he stood distracted by the illuminated iPhone clutched in his hand. “Where do you want me on the floor?”

Startled he jumped, “Yeah um, can you take over for me at the counter. Ring people in and make their drinks while I go have a smoke. Rachel should be here soon and when she does just get her to help you out on the bar.”

“Ok sounds good. Can I change your music?”

“Are you going to change it to that gay shit again?”

“There is no such thing as gay music unless you are counting music made by gay people as gay music. Indie music is not ‘gay’ music.”

“Yeah, whatever just make sure you put back on the jazz when I get back. We’re trying to get rich white ladies in here, not those poor hipster kids you call your friends.”

“Rich white ladies? That’s why you’re staying open tonight? On the night most poor hipster kids will be roaming around exploring art in Toronto? Yo are you dumb?” I asked with a thick Toronto accent.

“Ok, you can drop the Toronto accent and just do your job. I’m going to go have a smoke,” He turned and pushed the door to the back and walked through. Thank God he’s gone. I ran to the music and changed it immediately to my indie music playlist. Grimes’ “Oblivion” came on. I listened intently to Grimes' hazy voice.

I never walk about after dark

It’s my point of view

I tossed my head back and forth to the music before I heard the front door open. It was a customer. I turned down the music.

“Hi! Welcome to Adoration Cafe!”

The tall thin man looked up at me and smiled before looking around the room, “Uh yeah do you guys have a bathroom in here?”

“Yes we do, it's in the back corner just past those tables,” I pointed towards the back. Is he going to go do drugs in the bathroom?

“Thanks dude.” He kept his hands in his black skinny jeans as he slinked towards the back.

It felt like he was in there forever. What did he do, clog the toilet? Even when I did that at the Tim Hortons in Chinatown I had the decency to tell them! No, who am I kidding I ran out of there with my tail between my legs!

After about 20 minutes he waltzed out with a lightness to his footing. My God, what did he take?

“Thanks again man really appreciate it. Cheers,” He nodded his head, this time reeking of weed with his hands in his back pockets instead of his front. He lifted the heels of his checkered Vans before he walked towards the front using his body to gently push open the door.

I followed his movements with my eyes. Once the door closed behind him I darted from behind the bar. Did that dude just smoke in our bathroom? There is so much space to smoke outside. It’s not even that cold out yet. I hope he didn’t smoke in the bathroom, I’m sure Chris will find some reason to be mad at me for that. I don’t know how but he’ll find a way.

I opened the door to a smokeless room. What? I scanned the room for evidence. The room didn’t smell of smoked weed but it had an odour to it. I looked around. Nothing left by the sink or behind the toilet. I looked in the garbage. Nothing but wads of toilet paper. I pulled down the changing table to find tiny flakes of dried green leaves sprinkle on the cream plastic surface. Bingo. I used my hands to scoop as much off the plastic table before I wet a piece of paper towel and patted the surface dry for any future children who need the changing table.

“What the hell are you doing?” I heard a voice coming from the doorway. It was Chris.

“Someone was in here and I think they just rolled a joint but forgot to clean up the evidence on their way out,” I explained.

“Well hurry the fuck up with that and get back to the bar it shouldn’t be left unattended. Honestly, who cares about what is left on the changing table?” He said in passing as he walked back towards the bar.

“Shouldn’t you care if you want rich white women to come to this cafe? Especially if they bring their kids?” I asked as I followed behind him.

“Fuck no, they can leave their kids at home. This cafe is for hot couples who want to hook up, young entrepreneurs, rich white women, and people who are actually talented from the arts scene and looking to make a name for themselves.” He clasped his hands together as he grinned.

“So you do care about the poor hipsters! I knew it,” I teased him. “Have you heard anything from Rachel?”

“No, I haven’t. She hasn’t called the store since I was gone?”

“No, she hasn’t.” I repeated him.

“Fuck. Did you girls plan this? This is bullshit. Give me that phone.” He extended his arm and gestured to the black landline. “I’m going to call this girl.”

“Um ok,” I handed over the wireless phone and walked away from him and towards the espresso machine. I’m just going to practice my latte art while it’s quiet.

“Bitch,” He muttered under his breath as he hung up the phone. “Rachel says she can’t come in because she forgot she had a shift so she made other plans. Does she know how a job works? I’m going to fire her tomorrow.”

“Are you supposed to say that to me?” I looked confused.

He ignored my question as he walked towards the back. “Okay well since that is happening I’m going to go call other people and see who can come in because there’s no way I’m fucking staying till close.”

“Does that mean I can keep my music on?” I called out to him before he left.

“Yeah, Sarah do whatever the hell you want I don’t care. Just don’t fucking leave the bar for dumb shit.”

“You got it sir!” I shouted back with a hint of exaggeration.

I waited at the bar anxious to help a customer as the sun set. I know it always gets so much darker this time of year yet somehow I am always unprepared for its arrival. It kind of feels similar to my period every month if I’m being honest.

I looked outside at the people running around the former epicentre of Toronto’s manufacturing industry. Now it was just a neighbourhood with hollowed-out factory buildings slowly being filled with generic businesses and quirky coffee shops like ours. The only difference was tonight it was filled with artists and curious onlookers.

“Excuse me, hi.” I heard a voice calling me. I turned my head to see a customer just out of my view. I jumped.

“Shit- Sorry I didn’t see you there! What can I get you?”

“I want a quad ristretto Americano with extra space,” He replied with a twinkle in his eye. I think I know what he’s doing.

“Oh, you need lots of space in there… for other stuff?” I sarcastically chimed back.

“Yes of course,” He looked at me with a frown of disdain. Okay, we won’t make any more jokes then.

“Is that everything for you?” He nodded while maintaining direct eye contact so I continued, “That will be 4.25 then.”

He handed me the exact change and I cleared the register. No tip eh? Rude. He walked immediately to the bar with his head in his phone. I took my time as I walked towards the espresso machine to make his drink. What’s this guy’s deal?

“So how’s it going? Are you seeing the sights at Nuit Blanche?” I asked.

He jerked his head up quickly with his eyebrows raised as if he didn’t expect me to interrupt his time scrolling through what looked like Facebook, “Um yeah I’m here with some friends, we wanted to see Brendan Ferandes’ sound and light show. It’s called Future Perfect. It’s a giant installation of shipping containers meant to address the trauma of migration, displacement and change.”

“Sick,” I nodded my head in excitement. “Well, you enjoy it man here’s your drink.”

“Thanks,” He smiled as he took the cup and walked out.

“Ah-hem!” I heard someone shout from the register. “We’re waiting!”

I turned to see two high school girls waiting impatiently by the cash. I could tell they were high school girls because their voices were shrill and they dressed inappropriately for the weather. I was like this in high school, only ten times hotter.

“Sorry guys!” I walked towards them taking my time. “What can I get you two?”

“What do you have that tastes the least like coffee?” High school girls also ask dumb questions like this. Not to be rude, I’m just making an observation.

“I would say a latte is probably best.”

“Wait! Do you have that hot chocolate coffee thing?” The shorter girl asked.

“You mean a mocha?” I looked at her confused while slightly annoyed. “Yes, we have those.”

“Can I get one of those and also one of those brownies with the salt on it?” She jabbed her dirty finger into the glass of the display case. I winced, I hate when customers do that.

“Yes, is there anything else?” I asked.

“Yeah um can you hurry the fuck up?” A voice shouted behind them. Who was that? I looked up to see a lineup had started and trailed all the way out the door. My heart skipped a beat. How did that happen so quickly? I was only talking to these girls for a minute.

“Yes...of course…” I spoke softly as I slowly stepped towards the back door. “Just one second!”

I ran to the back shouting at the top of my lungs.

“Chris you better get your ass up here we have a lineup out the door I can’t help everyone by myself I will die!”

“Yeah alright, Sarah I will be up in one second. Just go back out there!” He hollered from the office.

Go back out there? Easy for him to say! He will flip when he sees how many people there are. God, I hope I survive this. I took a deep breath and stepped behind the bar. I managed to serve a good portion of the line by myself before Chris came to help out, typical boss behaviour.

“Go stay on the bar. I will take the orders at cash, I’m great with the ladies,” Chris put his hand on my shoulder before he assumed his role at the register.

“Hey, um you do know there are dudes in that line too!” I walked towards the bar and proceeded to foam milk like it was no one’s business.

We cleared the line with minimal complaints. I think everyone was too high on drugs to really notice how long they were standing in line. Besides Nuit Blanche is mostly line-ups anyway so it probably didn’t feel that different for most people.

Before we knew it we cleared the line. All 40 unexpected guests in under an hour with only two people. I’m pretty proud of us.

“That was great! Man, I never thought we were going to make it through all of those people.” I let out a sigh as I walked towards Chris at the front.

“Yeah it’s a fucking miracle,” Chris pipped back as he pulled out his phone. “Listen Sarah, I was able to get Imogen to come in and close. She’s doing us a huge solid because she never works on the weekend so make sure you are really good.”

“I’m not 12 Chris, I can ‘behave’ for her. I’ve worked with her before”

I heard the click of the door open.

“Imogen! So glad you’re here. We were just talking about you. Thanks again man for helping us out.”

“Did you seriously think you could handle closing the store on Nuit Blanche with just two people working? The entire night? Are you joking Chris?”

“Listen I didn’t think those hippie freaks would all come out in droves for espresso alright. If you want another person to close the store with you, be my guest. Good luck trying to find someone on such short notice.”

“I have more pull than you do. I’m going to put my stuff down and start making some calls. Most likely it will be Jess who comes in,” She sauntered towards the door.

Oh Jess cool, I’ve worked with her before.

Chris kept his eyes glued to his phone before he looked up to respond to Imogen, “Alright well since you girls have this handled I’m going to get the hell out of here.”

Chris grabbed his leather jacket from underneath the counter before he tossed it over his shoulder. I stood stunned as they both exited at the same time from opposite ends of the room.

I guess they just expect me to stay on the floor by myself indefinitely. Without a break too. Cool thanks guys, great teamwork we have here.

“I guess it will just be me for the next little while,” I muttered to myself.

“No I’m still here and I want a refill,” A bald older man stood over the counter with a ceramic mug in his hand. It was our laptop regular Bob. I always forget about Bob in the back.

“Nice to see you too Bob,” I sighed as I took his cup and walked towards the bar to make him another drink.

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