#The Rising Coffee Roasters

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咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店

咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 · 無甜點 一位獲獎無數的咖啡大師，也吸引了國際著名藝人 #林俊傑 @林俊傑JJLin 的目光 在The Rising Coffee Roasters，每一杯咖啡都是一個藝術品，每一次品嚐都是一次與自我和咖啡的對話。在這個專注於咖啡的空間裡，體驗這場視覺和味覺的盛宴，感受咖啡和花蓮曙光帶來的溫暖與力量。 #花蓮咖啡 #花蓮專賣咖啡 #花蓮手沖咖啡 #花蓮拉花冠軍 #花蓮旅遊

#花蓮 這座被曙光親吻的城市裡，藏著一家名為 #The Rising Coffee Roasters 的咖啡店，這不僅是一間咖啡店，更是一個咖啡愛好者的聖地。 咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 店主是一位獲獎無數的咖啡大師，牆上掛著的獎牌和證書證明了他對咖啡藝術的熱情和努力。 咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 咖啡入口後的味蕾藝術｜The Rising Coffee Roasters｜一間只賣咖啡的專門店 Continue reading Untitled

[mead-iocre]

Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.

Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years. 

Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–

She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her. 

“Mama!”

Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of you—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed. 

You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but you swear she’s Viv's mini me. They both have the same stubbornness (although Viv would argue you were also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.

During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.

But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.

Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.

Her daughter was going to jump.

Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil. 

She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”

“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”

“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.

Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her. 

“Waffles!” 

Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!” 

Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie” 

——————————

Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink. 

Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”

Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer. 

“Everyone” being your toddler. 

She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same. 

After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama. 

You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.

Just like a little duckling.

But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines. 

“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”

What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room. 

“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“

You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.

“Mama!” 

Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child. 

“Ducky, that’s enough” You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”

But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.

“Want Mama!” 

“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides. 

“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"

Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.

“–Liefje” 

You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.

“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer. 

You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting. 

“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch. 

You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head. 

The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.

And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”

“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. 

You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama” 

Evie did not need to be told twice. 

Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”

Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler. 

Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…” 

She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me” 

Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow. 

One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat. 

“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap. 

———————————-

So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer– 

“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back. 

You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room. 

“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again. 

But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic. 

“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”

You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns. 

And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap. 

“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone. 

You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you. 

“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions. 

Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be. 

Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions” 

“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”

Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile. 

“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.

“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”

You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.

“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”

“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”

Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”

You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.

“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler. 

———————————————

Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.

“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”

Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath. 

“…I- I love you, Mummy” 

Hey, my loves!

It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol

hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.

I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient

-- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[thesistersarcheron]

WIP Wednesday: Devil in the Details

I heard my wonderful beta @rosanna-writer say something about a Feysand group project? How are we feeling about the intersection of coffee shop AUs and the secret baby trope?

…the little silver bell over the front door gives a sharp chime, slicing through the low hum of magic and murmured conversation. A cool gust of early morning air sweeps in, carrying the salt-and-citrus scent of the city with it, and on its heels a tall, golden-haired female that Feyre has never seen before drifts inside, the ribbons of her teal gown fluttering gracefully around her strong, bare legs.

She knows she's never seen this woman before because she stands in the doorway like most newcomers who are unfamiliar with Falling Star do, eyes flicking this way and that as they drink up the chaotic jumble of the place. To the left, a wall covered in bins full of mismatched, secondhand art supplies and faeries seated at minuscule tables; to the right, a gallery of paintings and tapestries and sculpture for sale, a discordant clash of mediums and techniques. At the back of the shop, a cluttered counter is covered in a dozen different kettles and coffee presses and jugs—one for every strange new blend of coffee or tea the owner devises in her little workshop on the second floor—in addition to the packed pastry case and, well…

And the shopgirl with a baby strapped to her chest.

Feyre can tell the instant the golden female in the doorway spots them. Her head tips like a particularly curious cat, her lips parting as she studies the bulging angles of Nyx's wings through the silk of his wrap—

And Feyre feels a bit of instinctive defensiveness rise up. The freshly washed cream pitcher she's drying off with a clean towel clatters to the counter, and she splays her hands over her son's back. 

"Good morning!" she says with forced pleasantness before the female can voice the morbid curiosity that Feyre has come to expect from strangers. 

How precious! Whose is he?

Yours? 

But… how? With the wings, I… You know…

Her polite, plastered-on smile becomes a bit more genuine when the female twitches and, with apparent difficulty, meets her eyes. 

"Welcome to Falling Star Coffee Roasters & Art Supply. How can I serve you?"

The female pauses. "Excuse me?"

"Coffee or tea?" Feyre lifts a hand off of Nyx's back and points firmly at the menu above her head. It's enchanted to update each morning with what is available, thank the Mother for yet another small mercy, and Feyre has been experimenting with giving new customers no choice but to order from the menu before they can demand yet another impossibly difficult, spellbook potion. "We have about half a dozen different roasts, and several house blends of tea. Freshly squeezed juice, too. It's pomegranate today."

"No, I," the newcomer starts. Her eyes, feline and tilted, flicker up to the menu before she shakes her head. "I…"

Feyre's eyes narrow. 

"We also have baked goods…" she tries, enunciating her words carefully. Slow and firm—the best way to deal with challenging customers, she's found.

"Oh?" The female's question is distant. She nods slowly, her brow furrowing as she surveys the sparkling glass case, because she is evidently flabbergasted by the concept of a shop serving breakfast and hot drinks. "I don't… That is, that's not—"

"Here for materials, then?" Careful not to bump Nyx's diapered bottom against the hard marble edge, Feyre leans over the counter and points at the bins that had first drawn her to the cafe like a moth to a flame. But the female doesn't look at those; Feyre watches as her coffee-colored eyes go directly to the fussy ribbon of darkness one of the High Fae seated by the window is still patting. "It's all secondhand, but it's priced fairly. Brushes and chisels are half off this week, and next week we'll be restocking fabric scraps and remnants."

Jostled, Nyx gurgles, his little legs kicking. After four months of motherhood, Feyre is seasoned enough to anticipate the tiny sock that flies right off his foot and lands on the counter, and she reaches for it with a silent sigh— but pauses as she catches the female's eyes darting back to her son, sharp and curious, catching on the chubby, golden-brown foot now wiggling in the air. 

She stares, silent for a beat too long, as if her train of thought is completely decimated by the sudden appearance of baby toes. Her lips part slightly, the intensity in her expression startling in its suddenness. 

And then a spark flares to light in those eyes, and an immediate weight in the atmosphere makes the small hairs at the back of Feyre's neck rise. Her mouth fills with the coppery taste of foreign, Night Court magic, and for a moment she feels stripped bare beneath that gaze. As if the female in the doorway can see through Nyx, through her clothes, through her flesh, and right into the very heart of her.

A hushed shuffle and a low murmur of voices break the tense silence, the other customers shifting uncomfortably, all of their eyes glued to the female in the doorway as the burst of power falters and she stumbles backward a couple of steps. 

[mongoosingisme]

Title: Operation: Birthday Dinner (Chapter Two)

Series: Sticking the Landing (see fic Masterlist for previous parts)

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Relationship: Harvey/fem!Reader

Word Count: ~4500

Summary: You have trouble asking for help when you need it. Harvey intends to help you with that. Part 2 of 2 - read part one here.

Read on AO3

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Read below

Harvey didn’t fuck you against the door.

You wanted him to. Absolutely would have begged him to, but instead he’d kissed the back of your neck, long and warm and slow, helped you straighten out your dress, and went upstairs to grab his bag.

When you’d walked into town earlier that evening it’d been chilly but tolerable. Your trip back to the farm, on the other hand, had you worrying about hypothermia. Your legs were freezing by the time the two of you rushed into the farmhouse.

“I used to stand outside for hours in skirts shorter than this,” you gasped as you hung up your coat. It slipped off the hook, but you ignored it and worked off your boots. “And I did it in HEELS! How?”

Harvey’s eyes travelled up and down your legs. “Need me to warm you up?”

“Is that how you want to spend your birthday? Resuscitating an ice cube?”

“Hypothermia is a very serious condition,” he said, picking up your dropped coat and hanging it back up. “As a doctor I certainly couldn’t overlook such a risk.”

“Hippocrates would be proud.”

The farmhouse was dark and colder than it should be, the fire burned down. As much you wanted to drag Harvey to the bed and finish what you’d started in the clinic, practical considerations couldn’t be ignored.

You’d gotten pretty capable with the fireplace, adding small sticks and balled up pages from seed catalogues, blowing steadily to coax up a flame. You realized Harvey was watching you as you knelt by the fire, looked back to see him illuminated by its growing light. It softened his already gentle features, made his eyes sparkle behind his glasses, somehow made him even more present, more real.

“You’re good at that,” he said.

“Beats succumbing to the elements.” You joined him beside the couch, pulled him down for a slow, unhurried kiss. But Harvey was apparently in a big damn hurry. He grabbed your waist and kissed you back hard and deep.

“Present!” you gasped after a moment, breaking away and leaning back. He followed you, nipping at your lip, and you almost gave in. Almost grabbed him by the tie, dragged him to the bedroom, gave him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted with you. But no, it was his birthday. There were protocols, dammit. You pulled back further, arching away from him. “I got you a present!”

“I know,” said Harvey, mouth falling to your collarbone, hands gripping the backs of your thighs.

“No, I mean… wait here!” You wiggled out of his grasp, ignoring his grumpy huff. His face changed when you turned back towards him from the kitchen table, a dark green gift bag in your hand. “Present,” you said.

Harvey’s eyes had widened slightly, looked a little less dark. “Oh!” He straightened his tie. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s your birthday,” you said, shaking the bag up and down slightly for emphasis. “Birthday means present.”

Harvey’s smile was slow, a little shy. “Been a while since I’ve gotten one of those.”

And of course less than a half hour after he was holding you to a door, making you beg to come, he was absolutely breaking your heart. It’d been a while since he’d gotten a birthday present. Yoba. You were going to give him a dozen presents, you decided. A hundred. Shower him with kisses and birthday cake and streamers and song.

What you actually did, though, was shake the bag again. “Open it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, rummaging around the tissue paper. He pulled out a brown bag, a familiar scent rising in the air. “Coffee?”

“Okay, so,” you started. “I was experimenting with coffee this year in the greenhouse. I didn’t get a lot, but I got enough to take to a roaster, and they can add flavors to it, and I remembered how much you liked that blueberry wine, so I figured why not blueberry coffee?” You paused, searched his face. “What do you think?”

“You made me coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“You made coffee out of nothing.”

“Well, I mean the roaster did most of the work, but -“

Harvey was hugging you then, tight and warm, and you couldn’t help but remember the first time you’d given him a gift. The stupid hat you’d knit. He still wore it. At the time all you could do was pat his back awkwardly, but now you were free to do what you’d wanted to do then - hug him back around his shoulders, press your lips to his stubbled cheek, breathe in his clean scent.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet. It might be awful.”

Harvey chuckled. It felt good, so close to your ear. Sent tingles down your neck, across your back. “Want to try some?”

“Not planning on sleeping tonight?”

He smiled. You traced a finger over his crows feet. “I need three cups minimum to feel an effect.”

“I liked my reason better.”

Harvey leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you while you busied yourself with the grinder, the coffee pot. The kitchen was dimly lit, firelight and a small lamp by the front door the only illumination, but it didn’t slow you down as much as the bandage on your hand.

“How’s your hand feeling?” Harvey caught the way you winced when you mindlessly grabbed a filter.

“Not too bad,” you said. “Hurts a little, but I’ve had worse.” Harvey sighed. You sensed a lecture brewing. “Glad I’ve got you to patch me up.”

“I can’t patch everything up.”

You didn’t want to have this conversation, not really. Not now with the fire and the gift and everything else the night promised. But he sounded worried, and that’s not what you wanted, so you started the coffee maker and turned to face him. “I’m careful, Harvey.”

“I know you are.” The firelight brought out the flecks of gold in his eyes. “But you take on so much. I… I worry.”

“I know,” you said. “I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t want me to either,” he said with a chuckle, “yet I am compelled. Did you see the people playing pool tonight?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yes, I saw them.”

“The one with black hair, that’s Sebastian. I’m sure he’d help you if you asked.”

You nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah, yup. Got you.”

Harvey sighed. “I’m not trying to push, I just…”

“You worry.”

“I care about you.” You looked up at him at that. “I used to walk out here, before you came. I saw what things looked like, how much work you’ve done. You’re incredibly capable, I just…” He sighed again, ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to lecture.”

“It’s okay,” you said. He was right, about the work. And he was right, about asking for help. It’d always been hard for you, but in your old life the stakes felt lower. You could fade in and out of other people’s lives, run back to independence whenever that feeling of being too close, too seen, started to run through your stomach. It was a bad habit you’d hoped to leave behind.

But of course it followed you here, painting simple interactions in sharp, intimidating shades. You couldn’t explain it, the way little things felt so overwhelming sometimes. The way a yes could also feel like a no. A dinner with friends. A trip to the store. Asking someone you didn’t know for help. The pull of seclusion was easier to give in to here.

But then there was Harvey. He didn’t make you want to escape. He just drew you in, made the world feel like firelight, shadows soft and shifting. Made it feel okay to ask. Made you want to ask.

“You really think I could find someone to help with the tractor?”

Harvey smiled. “I do.”

You leaned against him. You fit well against his side. “I could get a lot more done with a working tractor.”

“Not entirely my point, but yes.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Harvey kissed the top of your head. “Thank you.”

“But only because it’s your birthday.”

He hummed, rubbed his nose over the top of your head. “I’ll suppose I’ll have to accept that.”

You supposed he did.

——————

The coffee was delicious.

You took yours with a healthy splash of cream. Harvey took his black. You sat next to him on the couch, your legs resting up on his knees. His hand was warm and heavy on your calf.

“You know,” he said, looking at you over the rim of his coffee cup “I haven’t gotten my prize yet.”

“Your prize?” You knew exactly what he was talking about.

“My prize,” he confirmed, setting his cup down on your beat-up old side table. He held your ankle. His hand felt warm.

“I don’t know…” you said. “You did cheat….”

“I didn’t,” he said calmly, both palms now rubbing up and down your shins. “You didn’t say I couldn’t collect data before making my guess.”

“Sounds like something a cheater would say.” His fingers were gently stroking the back of your knees now, up and down over the sensitive skin. You took a hasty sip of coffee to block the sound that wanted to rise from your throat.

He was giving you that smile. The smug one. The one that suggested you were about to have a very excellent time courtesy of his fingers or his tongue.

You wondered which one it would be - maybe both? - but then he sat back.

Gently pulled your legs off of him.

Crossed an ankle over his knee.

Picked up his coffee cup.

Took a sip.

“Take off your dress,” he said.

Something in your stomach tightened. That tone. Not a suggestion, but also not a demand. An instruction that you were already standing to fulfill, on your feet before you even realized you’d moved, heart pounding, hands shaking.

The dress. It zipped up the back awkwardly. You’d had to get creative when you put it on earlier, and you doubted a recreation would read as “sexy” as much as “a squid trying to dislodge a barnacle from its back.”

“Could you unzip me real quick?” you asked in a false whisper, scooching down next to the couch.

Harvey’s laugh was all warmth. “Of course. Here you go.” You felt the air hit your back, the pressure around your waist go slack as he lowered the zipper.

“Thanks,” you whispered again, then stood back up in front of him. You felt a little put off your stride, but with the way Harvey was watching you that probably didn’t matter.

He looked smitten.

Smitten and hungry.

You pulled one sleeve of your dress down.

Hungry won out over smitten.

You pulled off the other sleeve. Let the front of your dress fall, caught by your hips.

Harvey set his foot down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

The bra and panty set you’d picked out was about as far from your normal fare as you could get. Farm work required practicality, which is why Harvey had never seen you in anything that wasn’t made of cotton and thick straps. You’d have to vary your wardrobe a little more, you decided as he took you in. The bra was all lace and not much else besides. You were sure he could see the way your nipples were perking up under his stare.

“Stop,” Harvey said as you reached back to undo its clasp. He sounded a little strained. “Come here.” You walked over to him, stood between his knees. He pulled your dress down the rest of the way, hands shaking slightly as he helped you step out of it, then pulled you down to straddle his lap.

“This… it’s pretty,” he said, running a finger underneath a strap. Your skin prickled at the gentle touch, goosebump starting to form.

“Admire away,” you said, knowing you both could tell how breathless you sound.

“You are…” Harvey started, tracing over the top of one cup. “You… Yoba.” He cleared his throat. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t see me trying to get into my dress earlier.”

Harvey laughed, pressed his forehead into your shoulder. “Take the compliment please.”

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you.” And you meant it, felt something warm settle in your stomach at his regard. You pressed a kiss to his hair. “I feel pretty lucky too.”

You could feel him growing hard beneath you, firm and hot and very easy to grind down against, so you did. You expected him to hold your hips, help you move, maybe kiss you, maybe nip at your neck.

Instead, he took a deep, slightly shaky breath, then leaned back and took another sip of coffee.

Well then.

“So,” you said, running your hand down his tie.

“Mmm?” he hummed as he set the cup back down.

“What’s next?” You moved your hips in a way that implied you had some very clear thoughts about how he answered.

You were expecting him to evade the question or say something coy. Maybe just kiss you. What you didn’t expect was for him to say, without preamble, “you’re going to ask me very nicely to make you come.”

Oh.

Something started swirling in your core.. Your mind shorted out for a second. “I’m… I’m what?”

He sipped his coffee again. You wondered if he’d taste like it if you kissed him. “You’re going to ask me very nicely to make you come.” He put his coffee cup down as he said it. His lips looked soft and slick. A drop of coffee hung on his mustache. You leaned forward to lick it off, but he stopped you with a hand on your neck. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there, stuck inches away from him, thumb gentle on your pulse. You were sure he could feel how hard it was hammering. Wondered if his was thrumming just as hard.

“Ask,” he said.

You whimpered. Shifted your hips on his lap. You could feel his breath on your lips, still feel his cock beneath you, hard and clearly quite invested in the current situation. You wanted to do what he asked. Wanted to know what he’d do if you refused. Wanted his hands on you, all over you. Wanted his mouth and his teeth and his words. Wanted to know what his cock would feel like against the back of your throat.

You couldn’t have it all, so you went with the last one.

You slipped out of his hand and off his lap. Reached for his belt buckle. He watched you without interfering. You unbuckled him slowly, Unzipped. Licked your lips as you pulled down the waistband of his boxers, let his cock spring free. It was hard and shiny and absolutely fucking perfect. You opened your mouth, leaned forward to take him in.

But you couldn’t.

He was holding you by your hair.

He pulled gently, guiding your head up to face him.

His eyes were dark behind his glasses.

“Ask,” he said, very softly.

Fuck.

You moaned, hitched your hips. “Harvey…”

“Hmmm?”

“I….”

He waited, quiet, still aside from the pulsing of his cock, hand firm in your hair.

“Let me…”

He shook his head.

His cock bobbed inches away from your lips.

“Please,” you tried.

He hummed. Go on, the sound implied.

“Please, can I…”

His grip on your hair tightened, just a bit. Just enough of a correction.

You clenched, wondering if the color of your panties were light enough that he could see how wet you were.

“May I…”

His grip loosened.

“May I suck your cock?”

The appendage in question pulsed, a new bead of pre-cum shining at the tip. You stared at it, imagined it in your mouth. Envisioned the heft of his shaft, the way it would rest heavy on your tongue, warm and thick and shuttling in and out and Yoba you just wanted to taste him..

Harvey drew in a breath. Shifted. “Good, but you can do better. Try again.”

“Please,” you said. It sounded like a whine. You were going to combust, burst into a million pieces, fall apart too completely to ever be put back together. “Please, Harvey, please. Please may I suck your cock?”

“Well done,” Harvey said, and you wanted to keen with the praise. “Yes you may.”

He kept his hand in your hair, not pushing, not pulling, simply joining you as you let your mouth fall forward. His flavor exploded as you took the tip of him in. Salty and hot, smooth skin and coarse hair under your fingers as you reached, stroked across his pelvis to grip his shaft. He groaned, hitched his hips up into your mouth before grounding himself back down on the sofa.

Gag reflex? Yeah, you had one, and Harvey was not a particularly small man. But it was his birthday, and you’d worked so hard, asked so nicely to get where you were. You couldn’t see why you shouldn’t try to take him down just as far as you could. You flattened your tongue, rounded your lips, welcomed him back. Deeper and deeper, hollowing out your cheeks, breathing through your nose. You backed off a little, then moved forward again, setting a rhythm with your mouth and hands, each movement settling him in a little deeper.

The man who had so quietly observed you, instructed you, praised you seemed to have left the building. You could hear Harvey gasping now, groaning as you took him in. The springs in your well-worn couch creaked as his hips shuddered. His hand was a little tighter in your hair, still not pushing or forcing, but you could start to feel the strain.

You wondered if you could push him far enough that he’d snap, hold you down, force himself up into your mouth. The thought was so appealing that you took him in even deeper, to the back of your throat. You tried to remember the advice you’d read - going slow, holding your thumb, breathing through your nose - but you still made a choked sound as you swallowed around him.

His response was instant, pulling your head back, other hand on your jaw, tipping your face up, looking down at you with worry etched on his forehead. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Was that too much?”

“I am fantastic,” you said, gasping a bit. You could feel a thin line of wet making its way down your chin. “Would be better if you’d let me finish you.”

Harvey sagged forward, forehead coming down to touch the top of your head, both hands now cupping your jaw, wiping you clean. “You’re incredible,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Thanks. I’d be more incredible if you’d let me finish you.”

“C’mere.” He was pulling behind your arms now, leading you up to him.

“Say please,” you said. He didn’t, but you followed him up anyway.

You settled back on his lap, facing him, and immediately leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t stop you, kissed you back with a small groan. You could taste the coffee, slightly bitter, slightly comforting. Taste him too, lingering on your tongue.

His cock was still out, still hot and hard and wet from your mouth. You tried to rock your hips again, but he grabbed them, holding you still. “Mm-mm,” he hummed, breaking your kiss. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You stuck your lower lip out in a pout to hide how much that particular statement was making you squirm. Harvey ran his thumb over it, held it gently between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezed. “Turn around,” he said over the sound of your moan “and finish your coffee.”

Your cup was still warm as he helped you turn and settle back against him. You tried to take a sip, but the way his fingers were nudging up against the seam of your panties made your hand shake. Warm coffee dripped down your collarbone, and Harvey licked it away with an amused huff. “Careful,” he warned.

“Careful,” you mimicked back, the word cut short with a gasp as his fingers found your clit. He circled it slowly, lightly, but with how wet and wound you were it didn’t take much to make you tense.

“Don’t waste any, it’s delicious,” he was whispering in your ear. What in Yoba’s green earth was he talking about? The only thing on your mind was the feel of his fingertips, light and teasing, circling and circling, gliding through your wetness. You arched your hips, leaned back against him, and his free hand came up to help you support what you were holding. Coffee. Right. You were drinking your coffee, weren’t you? You tried to take a sip but something in your core was swirling, trying to grab onto nothing, pulsing with the circling of his fingers and fuck it, you could always grow more coffee, you had to focus on what he was doing, you were so so close to -

And he stopped.

His fingers lingered next to your clit, warm and unmoving.

You briefly considered throwing the coffee cup across the room In frustration.

“Harvey,” you started. You sounded wrecked.

“You know what you need to do.”

You groaned, leaned your head back on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I… it’s hard.”

“I know it is, sweetheart.”

You moved your hips, caught a shred of friction. He moved his fingers back, huffed into your neck. Admonished you gently: “be good.”

“What if I just sucked your cock again?”

“As truly tempting as that offer is, I’m quite happy with the current situation.” You could hear him smiling.

“What if I just made myself come?” A loophole. You were so smart.

He huffed another of those laughs. “I’d love to see that, but not right now.”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

His finger circled around your clit, just once. “No, you most certainly are not.”

You moaned. Closed your eyes. Pressed your face into the soft skin of his neck. “Please, Harvey.” Your voice was soft, almost relaxed. He had you, you realized. Really, all you had to do was ask.

He hummed an approving sound. Circled your clit again. “Keep going.”

“Please, could you…” your trailed off with a gasp as he swiped his finger back and forth.

“Mmmm?” He hummed.

You sighed. Relaxed fully. “Please could you make me come?”

“Good girl.”

And then his finger kept moving, kept its steady pace, circling and circling and circling, pressing in the slightest bit harder, just past teasing, just enough to make you moan, cant your hips, spread yourself wider, chase the sensation. The tightening, the warm liquid feeling through your shoulders and thighs, the unspooling in your stomach. It all worked in tandem, crashing through you as he kept up his steady work, braced your coffee cup with his other hand, braced you as you arched, cried out, and crested.

He whispered in your ear as you came down, quiet praise that wrapped you in a blanket of calm. He took the coffee cup, set it aside. You were relaxed and languid, leaning on his shoulder as he pulled a condom out of his pocket.

“Do you.. would it be alright if we…?”

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, would you fuck me, Harvey?”

He wrapped his arms around you, pressed his mouth into the curve of your neck, shuddered. “I…” He took a deep breath, hugged you tighter. “You’re…”

You turned your head, pulled him up by the hair, kissed him. Groaned into his mouth as his tongue delved, hard and hot and demanding. You pulled your panties down your thighs, kicked them off, groaned again as you felt Harvey’s cock pressed up against your folds.

You worked together to put the condom on, Harvey shaking a bit as you squeezed the bottom of his shaft. Then it was simply a matter of arranging, of pushing pants down to the floor, of pressing up on your tiptoes, shifting your hips, sighing as the blunt tip of his cock brushed against your entrance.

“You’ve done so well,” Harvey murmured, his hand running along your spine. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

You already had what you needed: a warm house, a cup of good coffee, and Harvey. But feeling the stretch of his big, deliciously thick cock would absolutely be a welcomed bonus, so you settled yourself down on him anyway.

You weren’t sure which was better: the way he filled you slowly, inch by inch, pressing against your walls in a way that made you want to dig your nails into his knees, or the sounds he made while he did it. Low groans, absolutely wrecked, half whispered words, a deep, gasping inhale when you bottomed out.

“Yoba,” he managed. “Yoba, you look… I can see how you’re…” His hands spanned the back of your hips, thumbs pressing into your sacrum.

“Enjoying the view?” You looked over your shoulder, watched him watching the spot where you connected. Saw him close his eyes, open his mouth as you raised up an inch and ground back down.

Then his hand was reaching around, his fingers were brushing against your clit, and you weren’t really thinking too much about anything after that. You closed your eyes, surrendered to the sensations. The quick circling of his fingers. The stretch and shift of his cock against your channel. The way he’d groan as you squeezed and fluttered around him. The way the warmth of the fire licked against your skin. The way Harvey’s lips pressed gentle kisses against your back. The way life turned soft and gentle, just for a moment, as you moved your hips.

Harvey widened his legs, started thrusting upwards with more force. It amplified everything, stretching you differently. You leaned forward, felt him hit that perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your hips, your spine. “Fuck,” your gasped. “Fuck, Harvey, I’m gonna… you’re gonna make me…”

“Do it.” He sounded desperate, breathless, groaning as you tightened around him, curving forward, shaking with the intensity of the climax, caught between the play of his fingers and the steady thud of his cock. And he was coming too, you realized as you hit your peak. He was clenching, a guttural sound angled somewhere at your mid-back, fingers grabbing a hip so hard you wondered if it would leave a bruise.

You both relaxed the same way you came: together. Harvey sank back into the couch, hands resting loosely on the top of your thighs. You leaned back against him, head on his shoulder. Your torso rose and fell in time to the deep breaths Harvey took beneath you.

“That was…” Harvey squeezed one of your thighs, abandoned the sentence.

“It absolutely was.”

“You’re…”

“You too.”

You shifted, wiggled, turned to sit sideways in Harvey’s lap. He made a soft, contented sound as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. Your bandaged hand was cradled in his palm now, held gently, warm and safe.

You’d ask someone to help you fix the tractor, you decided as you watched Harvey’s fingers intertwine with yours. And you told him so, as he raised your injured palm and placed a soft kiss to the bandage.

“Do you think they’ll say yes?”

Harvey smiled behind your palm. “I think they will. You’re a very easy person to say yes to.”

And as you settled back onto his chest and watched the fire, there was a moment there where you were sure that he was right.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post- appliances and thrift

Originally was going to skip making this post, as I thought it’d be boring but I was informed (many times) how it was wanted. Going to combine appliances and some thrifting and shopping related things. As I think it would be beneficial, as the boys are poor/impoverished so we should look at some of that side of purchasing - as many of my general time period posts are very middle class to soc range (at least in the images of new cleaned and polished) Home related posts;

Here and here

Something to keep in mind is location and the community. Some places, especially smaller towns take a long time to change or update, a lot of “mainstreets” or “squares” in older parts of town have the same buildings or styles from maybe even when they were first built or at least updated in the 1960s and still look like it today. So imagine back then! Lol. Even if a community has a rich minority, like the socs- that’s no guarantee the area modernizes into something brand new over night.

Convenience, gadgets and built ins-

Truly the time to be a lover of the gadget or the trinket. The continuation of post war production boom and making products with the idea of convenience in mind. A lot of it was ridiculous but really there was some cool stuff. The big trend was : Automatic and electric.

Electricity and electric things had really started to take to the public in the 1880s and we never really stopped electrifying basic items. Notable cases here; Electric knife, electric beaters/mixers (still hand held but not done by hand), electric/motorized can openers.

Gadgets! Things that would’ve been done by the stove and the over now with dedicated little devices. Now toasters and waffle irons and grittles had already been around for some time but were booming. Meat grinders (electric ones anyway), roasters, blender, drip coffee maker, hot trays/warming trays.

Another reason for the rise in gadgets or specific tools like a warming pan would be just how popular hosting and throwing parties was. (Much more soc). At the same time as more specific gadgets were made there was also a trend of combining! As kitchens were small and again, connivence.

You’d also see radios or even later counter tvs (impossibly tiny) pop up in kitchens.

Laundry-

A lot of homes at the time would only have one bath, especially if older and it was likely added in (if very old), so forget a laundry room. However, they were slowly rising in popularity and bathroom numbers too in more modern homes. Laundry machines did exist for a while but it’s sort of like electricity and AC some people didn’t have them or are still getting around to getting them — and when they did it’d sometimes be on the porch or garage or where they’d fit.

Laundromats would populate towns, still do but in this case it was less common than today to have a full set and bonus gadgets in your home. (Though your iron etc at home) or maybe there’d be a woman who does it for the neighborhood or apartment complex etc (headcanon Steve’s mom as a washwoman. I know they still existed but all the info I get is 1700s Scottish women… I feel insane)

Not so fast -

The world wasn’t like it is with microtrends and using/wearing/having something for a week or a summer and then tossing it out. There were trends but far longer lasting, and if someone was to make a commitment to say doing their home in a design trend, once all that work is done they wouldn’t change it for years (some never do! Look at all the untouched houses on the market every so often)

Appliances were made to last and often came with a Warranty, either discounted or free replacement or repair for a certain period of time. If you’re lucky a lifetime warranty. This stuff was built to last a lifetime! Tough, dependable, durable. It’s why the “garage fridge” exists in so many middle class homes today, it’s out of style but it still works perfect so now we have a soda fridge or extra storage.

Honestly if you had to replace or update annually back then it’d probably be seen as a bad or cheap product!

This isn’t to say people never updated, or changed based around style. But you first have to have the money for it and two it’s a treat, not a regular occurrence. So maybe in 10 or 20 years if you need new kitchen appliances or would like to restyle you go for it.

Thrift and used-

Especially relevant to the guys. Think it’d be rare if they bought a single thing new - that wasn’t used or loaned etc

Thrift stores, surplus stores, charity’s, churches, there’s always been ways to get things at a much more affordable rate. Even thrift food stores in some circumstances (no it’s not pre used).

Used car lots were also incredibly common, honestly it’s how most kids got their first car. Most people really! Now if you didn’t get totally swindled.

Thrift isn’t just relegated to physical thrift stores either, a lot of local businesses (places that aren’t the department store or major chain) would often have a used section or “used store”. Appliances, records - just about anything.

Layaway! A store sets an item or a bunch of purchases aside and you make incremental payments until the purchase is paid off. Then it’s yours. (Began during the Great Depression)

Rental, and rent to pay started conceptually post ww2 but Rent-A-Center itself was founded in 1973 so I’m not completely set on renting.

Coupons! Another way to save money and be able to make purchases, given in newspapers, adds, by the stores themselves. Rewards programs really kicked off in the 60s, one of the most common being S&H Green Stamps. (Some hang on the builtin board in the museum.) these would be gotten at check out and some other businesses and collected by customers, to be redeemed for items from their catalogs. You could get everything from appliances to makeup from how you saved and spent.

While I’m not getting into it, I did include thrift and some other things that are more relevant to the boys -> 1964 Food Stamp Act that saw the Creation of SNAP (food stamps) would be huge. However programs stem all the way back to the depression once again, more here

They Would have way older appliances and machinery- 40s old sometimes. Boys specifically have a Dixie stove and this old washer is an assumption of mine (if they had one at all!!)

[raylaui]

Rise of the TMNT April O’Neil

Character Sheet / Study / Expressions

Playlist 💚💫 AprilShowers_MayhemFlowers

🌟 / Raph / Donnie / Leo / Mikey

April O’Neil

Birthday - May 7th

- post movie - 18 - 4’8”

Sixth Sense Coffee Roasters (favorite & longest standing job) : work name tag

University Lanyard (EastLaird Freshman)

Jupiter Jim Band-Aids

Signature cat-eye frames

Alternate hairdo from S2 finale

Back of hoodie (stylized “5” graphic)

You mess with her family, you suffer her wrath (she will dig up your dirt)

Don’t mess with the bat

Lavender Chamomile Tea -or- Caramel Macchiato

Mug from when she worked at the aquarium (Leo swiped it)

Loves - Blue Raspberry Slushie Float

Loves - Cheesecake with Ganache

<3 Mayhem (angel and devil icons around Mayhem)

(image of a pizza) The Classic O’Neil :

Hand tossed crust - roasted red pepper marinara - three cheese blend (mozzarella, provolone, feta) - sprinkle of grated Parmesan

[lizbethborden]

If you're steeped in my lore you know I manage coffee shops and I've been talking to people in the industry lately and obviously, prices are rising. Green coffee is up almost $2/lb from this time last year, which is a lot for an "unfinished" base product (there is a ton of processing that goes on at the farms that is highly influential on the final taste of the coffee, so it's not accurate to treat the green beans as raw materials, but it IS the base product for roasters). Between tariffs and climate change prices are hiking and yes, the consumer will feel it.

But I'm not honestly concerned about that because unless there is a sea change in consumer attitudes, people will keep buying coffee even when every shop is forced to sell at Sbux prices ($5 for a small, that kind of thing). I remember how my Starbucks was FLOODED with people during COVID. Nobody is coming between customers and their luxury creature comfort. And I think it's perfectly reasonable that a luxury product be sold at luxury prices. Coffee farming is a highly exploitative industry with a terrible history; if we want to be at all mindful of what we consume, we should have been buying from fair trade (read: more expensive) sources anyway, and given the immense time and labor that goes into producing the green bean, it's a product that is worth every cent spent on it and more.

Where my concerns lie are more in the following areas:

Industry leaders abandoning even the pretense of buying fair trade coffee in pursuit of a lower price point, which will move the overall cultural needle

Coffee farmers losing business or being disincentivized from innovation or quality production because of financial pressure from large coffee buyers

Across the whole food chain, hourly workers losing hours because cost of goods has gone up, revenue will likely dip to some extent before recovering, and this needs to be balanced with labor savings

Like, the thing I'm scared about is not my wallet. Yes everything is getting astronomically more expensive. Ok. I get it. I'll deal. But what scares me is what this environment does to the people who are vulnerable up and down the line of this industry.

[paper-pustaka]

Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop by Hwang Bo-Reum; translated by Shanna Tan

Themes: 

Overlap of global themes and the Korean society - Burnout, work, divorce, family, relationships, drive and motivation.

Unique to Korean society - (Not)  fitting into society’s expectations and taboo topics  e.g. being in a ‘laid back’ job post-graduation, divorce 

Synopsis: 

This story follows Lee Yeongju’s courageous journey in rediscovering herself after a divorce.  She decides to open a neighbourhood bookstore, ‘The Hyundam-Dong Bookshop’,  which becomes a sanctuary for its employees and residents.

We meet Minjun, unable to  find a ‘corporate’ job, unlike most Korean graduates, he becomes a barista for the bookshop. Jimi, the coffee roaster, needs to stop tolerating her husband’s bad behaviours. Jingsuh, a crocheter,  has had others taking credit for her work. Having not been given a permanent position (despite years of service), she recently stands up for herself by quitting her job. Mincheol is a teenager who appears unmotivated, and Hyun Seongwoo, an author who runs seminars at the bookstore. Each character is trying to navigate life’s different challenges. Lastly, Yeongju may find herself in love again. 

Commentary:

This story follows Yeongju and the residents of Hyunam-Dong. Yeongju  decides to open a bookstore after a divorce. 

This book gives an insight into the societal norms and expectations of South Korean society. For instance, these themes are explored - the South Korean workplace culture,  having a ‘stable’ corporate/civil servant job after graduation,  studying hard, pleasing parents and how divorce is frowned upon in the society. 

The workplace culture is portrayed as quite harsh per Jingsuh’s experience. She is not a permanent staff member despite years of service and worse, her manager authorised a permanent staff to take credit for Jingsuh’s work. However, we also see the other side of the workplace culture in Yeongju, where Minjun’s presence as the barista helps her stay motivated to keep the bookstore running. She shows accountability as an employer to her employee. I also really like how hard Yeongju works to come up with interesting events for the bookstore such as the social media posts, the writing seminars and a bookclub. It is a bonus when Jingsuh decides to donate her crochet creations for the bookstore giveaway. 

In the book, Minjun, Mincheol and even Yeongju’s stories speak about pleasing one’s parents. Minju’s  parents want him to get a ‘stable’, civil service or corporate job, Micheol’s mum wants him to study hard and Yeongju’s mum is angry at her for getting a divorce. These characters rise above the societal expectations, and instead of pleasing their parents, they find themselves and do what is right for themselves.

The  book also depicts getting a ‘stable job’ post graduation as a  societal expectation. I don’t necessarily think that this is just unique to Korean society, but perhaps it is something that is common worldwide. 

I especially like Minjun’s story, where he realises that part of growing up is making your own decisions and having your own path. Despite getting hounded by his worrying mum  with his choice of becoming a barista, he does not back down. He realises that the Korean analogy about “buttoning up one’s shirt” is not entirely realistic. It speaks about how one may just go on about life, following the path set by society, but fails to consider other external circumstances which may impact the outcome of what one has been working towards. So, when Minjun realises that what he has been working towards is perhaps not achievable then, or that “his shirt has no buttons”, he changes his shirt. In other words, he decides to focus on what will work and is achievable for him.

Additionally,  the chapter ‘How we view work’, where Minjun is outspoken, serves as a reflection for us to rethink work, the rat-race and consider what truly matters in life. This particular chapter reminds me of some social media posts that I have seen where some share  about their ‘9-5 and 5-9’ life. They may appear to illustrate ‘productivity’, but in my opinion, if that lifestyle is the norm for them,  it will eventually lead to burnout. 

As for Jimi, her story speaks about being courageous. She has been putting up with her husband’s unacceptable behaviours for some time and no longer has reasons to make up excuses for it. She gives a lot of thought in deciding to leave a marriage that has not been working out for some time.  Whilst divorce  happens around the world, depending on where you are, it may be frowned upon. 

Finally, the story explores the possibility of finding new love, where Yeongju and Mr Seminar (Hyun Seongwoo) find a connection with each other. 

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Hideout - Jonathan Crane x!Sister Pt. 3

Author's note; Wishing all the happiest of New Year! Image Credit; Edward Addeo

Summary; Lillian Crane is on the run. Out of luck and out of time, she only has one place left to go. After turning up at her brother's high-rise apartment she hopes to just lie low for a little while. Can Jon help his little sister outrun international authorities, or will the past, present, and future all find their way into her hideout?

When Lillian opened her eyes the following morning she went stiff at the sight of the white blanket that wrapped around her body. For a moment she had forgotten nearly all of the events that had led her to this room the previous night. She squinted through the light peering into through the curtained windows and rolled over, feeling around within the mountain of plush pillows and sheets for her phone. Nearly dead and with no messages of importance she noted the time to be a quarter past 9 a.m. Upon remembering the charging cable stuffed deep into her backpack she swung her legs over the edge of the raised mattress and took her first steps of a new era; fugitive in hiding. 

After nearly tripping on them as she made her way to the door she looked down to find a pair of light pink slippers sitting neatly by the foot of the bed. She took this small detail to confirm that Jon in fact, did seek the companionship of a woman. She laughed and rubbed her face as she entered the hallway. Noise echoed from the kitchen as she made her way down the  hall to see her brother, with his back turned to her, tending to something on the stove. The smell of breakfast sausage and fresh coffee caught her off guard seeing as she hasn’t eaten anything but cheap diner food, frozen meals, and fast food for weeks while dealing with the stress of her new situation. She could hear the soft sounds of the Gotham’s morning news come through the speakers of the small TV that was luxuriously fitted into the walls of the kitchen. She moved closer with a sense of hesitation, though she couldn’t figure out why. Without turning around Jon broke the figurative silence. 

“I made coffee. Cups are above the machine. Use the white ones.”  Lillian cleared her throat and replied, “Thanks.” She, now more quickly after being invited into the space, made her way to the coffee maker and helped herself. Adding just a small spoon of sugar and stirring it in. Just enough to cut the bitterness but not much else. It was another thing that unwillingly bonded the Crane siblings, they both took their coffee black, unless they bothered to put in the extra effort to add just a single serving of sugar, and given the bewildering night they had just experienced, they could be bothered. 

“This is great,” Lillian complemented her brother. It was the best coffee she had drank in a long while. She usually preferred the expensive lattes and drips that her salary afforded her but, like many other things as of late, that preference, unfortunately, wasn’t being accommodated. At first, she felt comfort and nostalgia for the drink found in the Denny’s coffee pot at 2 o’clock in the morning. It reminded her of her days in high school when she would run off with her friends to the outskirts of town. Now, she preferred exhaustion over that filth. 

“I get it from a roaster on 14th,” Jon explained. Since she had entered the room he had only spared a glance at the TV set when the meteorologist to run down the weekend forecast and then returned his gaze to the stove. After taking a seat at the breakfast bar, still talking to her brother’s back, Lillian asked, 

“Don’t you work today?” With no time for contemplation, he said 

“I called and told them I wouldn’t be making it in today.” 

“Why?” She asked only seconds later realizing exactly why he had done so. 

“Why do you think?” The doctor asked sounding as if he was asking a child why they thought a rainbow had spread across the sky just minutes after a thunderstorm. She stayed silent. Guilt filling her and staring down into the dark abyss that she held in her hand. She saw movement where Jonathan stood and she snapped her eyes up to see him holding two plates, both consisting of scrambled eggs, sausage and a piece of wheat toast with a thin coat of jam. Her eyebrows perked up just enough for her brother to notice her understated excitement. He set the plates down over the bar. One in front of Lillian and one in front of the empty seat to her left. Before he could finish retrieving utensils and seating himself in the open chair, Lillian had finished the piece of bread that once rested on her plate and began eyeing her brothers. He set the paper towel and then the fork gently by her right hand before doing the same for himself and finally finding his seat. Lillian took a proper bite of her food and turned to her brother. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly to the side of his face before returning to her meal. He finished his bite and began to pick up his mug when he responded. 

“I had extra.” 

—

The pair had finished their meal and after refilling their coffees, Jon began to load the used cookware into the dishwasher. Lillian didn’t know how to bring up the shampoo or the razors or the slippers she had found since her stay here began but her curiosity ate at her, still surprised at the possibility of her brother, her quiet, stoic, just plain weird bother, could actually have a girlfriend. In what may have been the most complex way of raising the question she stuttered out, 

“What’s her name?” Jonathan slowed to stop what he was doing and turned to look at the girl. His brows furrowed and he ever so slightly cocked his head. 

“What?” He said sharply. 

“The girl you have over,” she continued, “what’s her name?” He stood up straight from his hunched position over the open appliance and his hands, one clutching a dish towel, fell to his sides. 

“What are you talking about?” The same tone as before followed these words out of his mouth. Lillian took in a breath and fixed her eyes on her brother softly as to not annoy him any further. 

“The girly shit in the bathroom, and the slippers. I was just curious. How long have you been seeing her?” She said trying to hide her excitement. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes in a way only Jonathan Crane could. He turned back to his task and Lillian retuned her look of guilt, yet again, to her coffee. 

“I was just curious, I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she said quietly but before she could finish her sentence her brother spoke with an annoyed huff. 

“There is no woman.” 

“Then why do you have fuckin’ pink razors,” she laughed nervously and continued to drink her coffee. Holding the cup to her face almost felt like a shield from whatever Jon would say to her. 

“I was at the store, and I just got things that I figured you’d need. In case you had to leave them behind.” The room fell silent all but for the TV still lit up above the counter, now it was rolling ads for a local window washing company. Lillian let out a sharp, but relieved breath, through her nose and took another drink. Her small, hushed laughed caused Jonathan looked back at his sister while finishing with the dishes. She looked at him and spoke with the tenacity of a professor asking her students what the true meaning of the universe is. 

“Slippers?” 

—

After minutes of comfortable silence between the two, Lillian remembered her phone charger that sat in her bag still resting by the door. She rose and went to search for it finally retrieving it out of her pack. She might as well take her belongings to her new room soon, since it was apparent she would be here longer than she anticipated. This was supposed to last a few weeks - a month tops - but after her expedited appearance in Gotham, she feared this ordeal would go on much longer. The last she had heard before leaving her apartment was that agents stationed in Germany had found the location of two members of the Black Cobras during a raid. Since learning this, the rest of the small organization had feared that these two may give up the identities and whereabouts of other members. That, in collusion with INTERPOL’s networks already gaining a renewed interest in the group, caused alarm bells to sound and those still free of custody had to take more extreme measures than the originally agreed upon “laying low.” 

Lillian gathered her belongings loosely in her arms and tugged the rest behind her in the suitcase into her bedroom. After a short moment of assessing all that she had brought laid out on the clean white bed, she felt a wave of sadness boil up deep within. She stared into nothing and allowed herself a small moment of regret and longing for the life she had left behind which she in some way hoped to go back. Could she go back? What else did she know? In all, what she had brought from her small apartment nestled on the outer streets of Paris were 3 changes of clothes, her notebook, laptop, the few bottles and jars of bath products that she scooped off of the bathroom counter on her way out, a hair brush, wallet, passport, a few pens and pencils already at the bottom of the old backpack, a few other odds and ends including charging cables, headphones, sticky notes, and a flash drive, and finally, her small stuffed bunny named, well, bunny. She had been given this toy upon her birth from her mother. No matter where the young girl went, even today, the bunny never left her. Through all the running, the hiding, the restless movement, every home Lillian had occupied had also sheltered Bunny. So, when she got the call that one dreadful evening that she needed to evacuate, the first thing she packed, of course, was Bunny. 

After standing and reflecting for just a minute more, she now turned to carefully stack her few lasting toiletries on the dresser beside the bed. Upon moving she took a startled step back when she saw Jonathan standing in the doorframe, silent and watching. 

“Christ. Knock much?” She huffed and returned to her task. Jonathan remained in his place and said in a coldly, 

“I didn’t think I had to knock in my own home.” The girl rolled her eyes and began sifting through her packs once again in hopes of finding anything else she may have missed. Jon took a few steps into the bright room and looked down at his sister. A small change, barley noticeable, came across his face when he examined her. Pity, almost. With an only slightly relaxed tone than before he offered, 

“You can do your laundry down the hall, there is a basket in the closet.” Lillian spared a brief look at him and hummed a short breath in acknowledgment. When she moved to gather the basket that would carry her rain-dampened clothes to the washer, Jon took her spot in front of the bed with her belongings spread out. 

“Is this all you brought?” He asked bluntly. His sister, a much more emotive speaker replied in an offended huff, 

“Yes it is.” Trying to keep her annoyance at bay, she refused to look at him and forcefully shoved her few articles off the bed and into the basket. As she picked up the basket, her brother spoke again, this time in his best attempt at a softened voice, 

“If you need anything, I can take you shopping tomorrow, or I can get it for you. If you didn’t want to go out.” She slowed her movements, frustration falling away from her as quickly as it arose and looked up at her brother’s still stoic, unmoving gaze. Loosening her grip on the plastic basket she nodded shyly returning her gaze to the floor. It pained her ego enough to even show up at her brother’s door, and having to rely on him to get her basic necessities hurt in a way she hasn’t felt since living under her father. Jon stepped forward, not wanting to continue this display of emotion any further and gently placed a hand on the center of Lillian’s back. The touch shocked her and sent a shiver down her spine. Quietly, and as gently as the man could, he said, 

“I’ll show you where the laundry is.” A gentle guidance led Lillian out of the bedroom door. The soft delicate touch never left her until they made it to the machine. 

[nerdycreationdetective]

 North America Coffee Beans Market Drivers, Opportunities, Trends, and Forecasts by 2027

The emphasis on quality and transparency in Canada’s coffee market provides opportunities for producers and distributors who can meet these evolving expectations. Mexico, while traditionally a producer of coffee beans, is experiencing a domestic shift toward higher quality consumption as urbanization and disposable incomes rise. Understanding the regional distinctions within the North America Coffee Beans Market is critical for businesses aiming to tailor their strategies effectively. For example, preferences for roast levels and brewing methods vary across regions, necessitating localized marketing and product development. Additionally, economic disparities between rural and urban areas influence purchasing power and access to premium products. Strategic regional insights enable more efficient resource allocation and targeted campaigns, leading to stronger market positioning and growth.

The North America Coffee Beans Market has witnessed significant growth over the past few years, driven by increasing consumer demand for premium, specialty, and sustainably sourced coffee products. With coffee culture becoming deeply ingrained in North American lifestyles, the market has evolved to reflect changing tastes, health-conscious preferences, and a growing appreciation for artisanal brewing methods. The North America Coffee Beans Market encompasses a wide range of product types, including Arabica, Robusta, and blended varieties, each catering to different consumer segments and usage preferences.

One of the major drivers of the North America Coffee Beans Market is the rising consumption of coffee among younger demographics. Millennials and Gen Z consumers are particularly inclined toward high-quality and ethically produced coffee, fueling demand for organic and fair-trade coffee beans. This shift in consumer preferences has prompted producers and retailers to offer more transparent sourcing and labeling, further shaping the dynamics of the North America Coffee Beans Market.

📚 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐃𝐅 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲@ https://www.businessmarketinsights.com/sample/TIPRE00012980

Another significant trend influencing the North America Coffee Beans Market is the surge in home brewing. As remote work and hybrid work models become more common, consumers are investing in at-home brewing equipment such as espresso machines, French presses, and pour-over setups. This growing interest in home brewing has directly boosted the demand for whole and ground coffee beans, thus contributing to the expansion of the North America Coffee Beans Market.

Furthermore, sustainability remains a central theme in the North America Coffee Beans Market. Consumers are becoming more environmentally conscious, prompting coffee producers to adopt eco-friendly practices, including shade-grown coffee cultivation, reduced water usage, and biodegradable packaging. These sustainability efforts not only appeal to environmentally aware consumers but also enhance brand loyalty within the North America Coffee Beans Market.

📚𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤 @ https://www.businessmarketinsights.com/reports/north-america-coffee-beans-market

In terms of distribution channels, the North America Coffee Beans Market is diversified, with products available through supermarkets, specialty coffee shops, online platforms, and direct-to-consumer subscriptions. E-commerce, in particular, has played a transformative role, allowing consumers to access a wide range of coffee beans from different regions and roasters, thus broadening the competitive landscape of the North America Coffee Beans Market.

The regional segmentation within the North America Coffee Beans Market highlights key markets such as the United States, Canada, and Mexico. The U.S. dominates in terms of consumption and innovation, with a strong presence of specialty coffee roasters and boutique coffee houses. Canada follows closely with its growing artisanal coffee scene, while Mexico benefits from being a significant coffee producer and exporter, contributing raw materials to the broader North America Coffee Beans Market.

Looking ahead, the North America Coffee Beans Market is poised for continued growth, driven by innovation, evolving consumer preferences, and a sustained focus on quality and sustainability. Companies that can adapt to these trends and deliver exceptional coffee experiences are likely to thrive in the competitive landscape of the North America Coffee Beans Market. As coffee remains an integral part of daily life, the market will continue to innovate and diversify, reinforcing the strong demand dynamics that define the North America Coffee Beans Market.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬

North America Coffee Beans Market

Death Wish Coffee Company

Gold Coffee Company

Hawaiian Isles Kona Coffee

Kicking Horse Coffee

Illycaff S.p.A,

PEET’s COFFEE Inc.

Starbucks Coffee Company

S.C. Johnson & Son, Inc.

North America Coffee Beans Strategic Insights

Strategic insights for the North America Coffee Beans provides data-driven analysis of the industry landscape, including current trends, key players, and regional nuances. These insights offer actionable recommendations, enabling readers to differentiate themselves from competitors by identifying untapped segments or developing unique value propositions. Leveraging data analytics, these insights help industry players anticipate the market shifts, whether investors, manufacturers, or other stakeholders. A future-oriented perspective is essential, helping stakeholders anticipate market shifts and position themselves for long-term success in this dynamic region. Ultimately, effective strategic insights empower readers to make informed decisions that drive profitability and achieve their business objectives within the market.

North America Coffee Beans Regional Insights

The geographic scope of the North America Coffee Beans refers to the specific areas in which a business operates and competes. Understanding local distinctions, such as diverse consumer preferences (e.g., demand for specific plug types or battery backup durations), varying economic conditions, and regulatory environments, is crucial for tailoring strategies to specific markets. Businesses can expand their reach by identifying underserved areas or adapting their offerings to meet local demands. A clear market focus allows for more effective resource allocation, targeted marketing campaigns, and better positioning against local competitors, ultimately driving growth in those targeted areas.

Market Overview and Dynamics

The North America coffee beans market was valued at US$ 8300.2 Million in 2018 and is projected to reach US$ 13,721.7 Million by 2027; it is expected to grow at a CAGR of 5.7% during the forecast period. Factors driving the market growth include increase in consumption of coffee and coffee beverages and health benefits associated with coffee. However, availability of substitutes is the factor restraining the market growth.

Key Market Segments

The arabica accounted for the largest market share of the North America Coffee Beans Market, by producrt, in 2018. In terms of end-use, food and beverages held the largest share of the market in 2018.

About Us-

Business Market Insights is a market research platform that provides subscription service for industry and company reports. Our research team has extensive professional expertise in domains such as Electronics & Semiconductor; Aerospace & Defense; Automotive & Transportation; Energy & Power; Healthcare; Manufacturing & Construction; Food & Beverages; Chemicals & Materials; and Technology, Media, & Telecommunications.

[dailyrisecoffee]

Discover Utah’s Hidden Coffee Gems: 7 Must-Know Coffee Roasters Brewing Buzz in 2025

If you think of Utah and only picture national parks, skiing, and serene landscapes — you’re missing out on one major movement: Utah’s booming craft coffee scene. Over the last decade, Utah coffee roasters have been quietly roasting up some of the finest, small-batch beans in the U.S., fueling a community of coffee lovers who crave quality, sustainability, and flavor.

Whether you’re a Salt Lake City commuter in need of your morning fuel or an adventurous traveler exploring St. George, Utah coffee roasters are turning everyday cups into gourmet experiences. In this blog, we’ll dive into the top roasters, their unique approaches, FAQs, and why Utah might just become your new coffee obsession.

The Rise of Utah Coffee Roasters: What’s Brewing?

1. Why Are Utah Coffee Roasters Gaining National Attention?

The specialty coffee boom isn’t limited to the coasts. Utah’s unique combination of high altitudes (ideal for roasting), a focus on local and organic sourcing, and a strong community culture has created the perfect storm for high-quality coffee roasting.

According to the Specialty Coffee Association, the demand for ethically sourced and locally roasted beans has increased by over 23% since 2020, and Utah is riding that wave with flair.

2. Top Utah Coffee Roasters You Need to Try

Here are seven of the most buzz-worthy roasters in Utah making waves in 2025:

🔥 La Barba Coffee (Salt Lake City)

Known for their third-wave roasting techniques, La Barba emphasizes transparency in sourcing and offers bright, fruit-forward blends. Their Ethiopia Yirgacheffe roast? Game changer.

☕ Blue Copper Coffee Room (Salt Lake City)

Blue Copper is the artisan darling of SLC, combining single-origin beans with avant-garde roasting styles. Their commitment to eco-friendly packaging and direct-trade sourcing wins hearts (and tastebuds).

🌄 Daily Rise Coffee (Ogden & Layton)

With a mission to elevate mornings, Daily Rise is beloved for its friendly vibe and small-batch, air-roasted beans. They offer unique Utah-inspired blends like “Wasatch Roast.”

🏜️ FeelLove Coffee Roasters (St. George)

Down south, FeelLove crafts gourmet-level espresso and elegant roasts. Their café aesthetics are Instagram-worthy, but their house roast steals the show.

🌱 Publik Coffee Roasters (Salt Lake City)

With sustainability at its core, Publik boasts solar-powered roasting and a focus on community initiatives. Their house blend offers rich chocolate notes with a smooth finish.

🏔️ Hatch Family Chocolates & Coffee (Salt Lake City)

A hidden gem where chocolate and coffee merge. Their micro-roasting process yields ultra-fresh beans paired perfectly with handcrafted sweets.

🌿 Tona Coffee (Provo)

A newcomer with big ambitions. Tona uses a Scandinavian-style light roast to preserve bean integrity and showcase natural flavors.

[thekinhotel]

Experience - Less, but Better

In a world dominated by mass production and sensory overload, urban India is quietly rewriting the rules of luxury. Gone are the days when price tags or global logos measured opulence. Today’s discerning consumers—especially Gen Z and millennials—are embracing an experience-first philosophy where quality, personalization, and emotional resonance outweigh sheer grandeur. The shift isn’t just about owning less—it’s about experiencing better.

Nowhere is this transformation more evident than in Mumbai’s thriving hospitality scene, where luxury boutique hotels in Mumbai are setting a new benchmark. India’s urban affluence, combined with global exposure and digital savviness, has reshaped expectations. Consumers now seek refined, intentional experiences—whether it’s curated retail, wellness programs blending ancient wisdom with modern science or artisanal craftsmanship. 

Reviews for the best boutique hotels in Mumbai often highlight what big chains can’t replicate: a sense of belonging. The city has become a playground for this new wave of indulgence. Beyond luxury boutique hotels in Mumbai, a constellation of niche experiences—such as third-wave coffee roasters, craft perfumeries, and hidden meditation studios—reflects a cultural shift toward mindfulness over materialism. 

Travel platforms are also adapting, replacing generic tours with immersive experiences, such as heritage walks led by local historians, private art previews, or wellness retreats. When accommodation is part of the journey, staying at the best boutique hotel in Mumbai isn’t just a place to sleep—it’s a thoughtfully curated chapter of the experience itself. Personalized service, locally inspired design, and an emotional connection consistently outshine generic five-star experiences.

The rise of micro-luxury isn’t a passing trend; it’s a global movement toward intentional living. For Mumbai’s urban professionals, it’s fast evolving from a preference to a philosophy. In this landscape, luxury boutique hotels in Mumbai serve as more than escapes—they’re proof that in a world of excess, less but better is the ultimate luxury. The demand for “boutique” and “bespoke” has surged, with travellers prioritizing exclusivity over cookie-cutter luxury.

As travellers and locals alike seek deeper connections, the best boutique hotel in Mumbai won’t just offer a stay—it will offer a story. And in the end, isn’t that what true luxury is all about?—Experience the art of thoughtful luxury. Book your stay at Mumbai’s finest boutique hideaways today.

[atplblog]

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[coffee-trends]

How Custom Coffee Packaging Drives Online Sales

In the world of digital retail, presentation is everything. For coffee brands competing in the e-commerce space, custom coffee packaging plays a critical role in grabbing attention, establishing brand identity, and encouraging repeat purchases. As online marketplaces grow more saturated, the need for visually compelling and functionally smart coffee packaging bags is no longer optional—it’s essential. Beyond just preserving freshness, today’s packaging bags coffee serve as powerful marketing tools that help brands tell their story, connect with consumers, and ultimately boost online sales.

Whether you're a small-batch roaster launching a new blend or an established coffee brand expanding your digital footprint, investing in smart, well-designed packaging can directly influence your success in the competitive e-commerce space.

The Role of Custom Coffee Packaging in E-Commerce Branding

Branding is the heartbeat of any successful online store. But in e-commerce, where customers can't physically touch or smell your product, your packaging becomes the visual spokesperson of your brand. This is where custom coffee packaging steps in.

1. Building Visual Recognition

In digital marketplaces, customers scroll through countless listings. Packaging that’s well-branded and visually consistent stands out and helps build recognition. When your packaging uses a cohesive color palette, strong typography, and clean graphics, it becomes more memorable—even in a crowded feed.

2. Telling a Story

Your coffee packaging should do more than just hold beans—it should narrate your brand story. Whether it’s highlighting single-origin beans, sustainable sourcing practices, or a passion for small-batch roasting, custom packaging is the canvas for that message.

A compelling backstory shared on your coffee packaging bags can inspire trust and curiosity, encouraging shoppers to choose your product over less-personal competitors.

3. Reinforcing Brand Values

Packaging is a perfect place to communicate your values. For eco-conscious brands, using biodegradable or recyclable packaging bags coffee not only reduces environmental impact but also signals integrity and responsibility to the customer.

Increasing Clicks and Conversions with Eye-Catching Designs

In a brick-and-mortar setting, customers can pick up a product, smell the coffee, feel the texture, and read the label. Online, you have only a few seconds—and a single image—to make a sale. That’s why your custom coffee packaging design matters so much.

1. First Impressions Matter

When potential buyers browse your product online, your packaging is what they notice first. A well-designed bag can generate clicks, while a dull or cluttered design may cause shoppers to scroll past.

To maximize visual impact:

Use high-contrast colors that stand out on white backgrounds.

Choose fonts that are both stylish and readable.

Display flavor notes, roast levels, and other key info clearly.

2. Professional Photography

Pairing your beautifully designed packaging with professional product photography can make a dramatic difference. Highlighting the bag’s texture, color, and detail helps build trust and interest, especially for new or unfamiliar brands.

3. Strategic Layout

Ensure the important elements—like your logo, product name, and unique selling points—are front and center. Avoid overcrowding. Simple, clean designs often perform best in online environments.

Unboxing Experience and Social Sharing

The rise of social commerce means that customers often share their purchases online. When your custom coffee packaging delivers a visually appealing unboxing experience, it’s more likely to be photographed, shared, and discussed—giving your brand free exposure.

1. Packaging as an Experience

When customers open your coffee package, it should feel special. Consider including:

Thoughtful messaging inside the flap.

Custom tissue paper or branded stickers.

Loyalty cards or discount codes for the next purchase.

These extras turn an everyday product into a memorable event.

2. Encouraging UGC (User Generated Content)

Great packaging motivates customers to share their experiences on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube. This organic word-of-mouth promotion drives brand awareness and builds credibility with potential customers.

Custom Coffee Packaging as a Marketing Tool

In e-commerce, your product’s packaging is more than a container—it’s an opportunity to market your brand with every order.

1. Promote Loyalty Programs or Subscriptions

Include calls-to-action on your packaging that promote your coffee subscription services or referral programs. QR codes are perfect for this, taking customers directly to your website or special offers.

2. Seasonal or Limited-Edition Designs

Rotating coffee packaging bags based on seasons, collaborations, or special roasts creates urgency and excitement. Limited-edition packaging helps products stand out and encourages impulse purchases.

3. Encourage Reviews and Feedback

Your packaging can also invite reviews, which are critical for building trust on platforms like Amazon, Etsy, and Shopify. A simple message like “We’d love to hear your feedback!” can go a long way in driving engagement.

Sustainability Sells: Eco-Friendly Custom Packaging Trends

Modern consumers—especially millennials and Gen Z—prioritize sustainability. They’re willing to pay more for products that reflect eco-conscious values. Using environmentally responsible custom coffee packaging gives your brand an edge.

1. Choose Sustainable Materials

Opt for recyclable kraft paper, compostable films, or reusable pouches. Many suppliers now offer stylish, durable, and eco-friendly materials that don’t compromise on visual appeal.

2. Tell Your Green Story

Communicate your packaging choices directly on the bag. Statements like “100% compostable” or “Made with recycled materials” help customers feel good about their purchase.

3. Reduce Waste

Right-sizing your packaging bags coffee ensures you use only as much material as needed, reducing costs and waste. It also improves your carbon footprint, which is another selling point for eco-aware shoppers.

Boosting Repeat Purchases with Memorable Packaging

Great packaging keeps your brand top-of-mind. When a customer enjoys the entire experience—from the visuals to the taste to the feel of your product—they’re more likely to come back for more.

1. Practical and Functional Design

Features like resealable zippers, one-way valves, and easy-to-tear seals improve usability. They not only keep the product fresh but also show attention to detail—something customers remember.

2. Subscription-Friendly Packaging

For brands offering subscriptions, your custom coffee packaging should be compact, consistent, and efficient. Maintaining a unified design across deliveries builds familiarity and brand trust.

3. Reinforce Brand Identity

Over time, your packaging becomes synonymous with your brand. Just like how customers recognize their favorite chocolate bar by its wrapper, your loyal buyers should instantly recognize your product through packaging alone.

Conclusion

In the digital coffee retail space, packaging is more than a product necessity—it’s a powerful sales engine. From building brand identity to increasing click-through rates, encouraging social sharing, and reinforcing sustainability values, custom coffee packaging drives online sales in ways traditional marketing channels can’t always match.

By investing in beautifully designed, functional, and emotionally resonant coffee packaging bags, your brand can stand out in an ever-growing online marketplace. Smart, thoughtful, and sustainable packaging bags coffee don’t just protect your beans—they build your brand, tell your story, and win customer loyalty.

So, if you're looking to increase your coffee sales online, start by brewing up the right packaging strategy.

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The Trip of Coffee: From Bean to Brew

Coffee is greater than just a morning pick-me-up; it's a worldwide sensation that has woven itself into the material of cultures around the globe. Stemming from the highlands of Ethiopia, coffee has actually traveled through centuries and continents, changing from an easy berry right into the cherished drink we savor today. The journey begins with coffee farmers meticulously growing coffee plants, nurturing them through the growth cycle up until the cherries are ripe for harvest. As soon as picked, the cherries undertake an intricate procedure of drying, milling, and roasting, each action boosting the tastes and scents that coffee fanatics treasure. This rich background not only highlights the complexities of coffee production however additionally highlights the dedication of those who bring this promoting drink to our cups.In addition to its interesting beginnings, coffee has actually come to be a social stimulant, promoting connections and discussions in cafes, homes, and work environments worldwide. Whether it's the routine of making a fresh mug in the morning, the convenience of drinking a latte during a break, or the pleasure of sharing a pot with close friends, coffee serves as a backdrop to plenty of moments in our lives. The rise of specialized coffee bar has further elevated the experience, allowing lovers to explore a large array of flavors and developing strategies. With an ever-growing coffee culture, from artisanal roasters to global chains, the love for coffee proceeds to advance, inviting everyone to celebrate its abundant heritage while building new links over each delightful mug.

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Bold Flavors at a Specialty Coffee Shop

In the ever-evolving world of specialty coffee, bold flavors are making a significant impact. From robust espresso shots to innovative cold brews, coffee enthusiasts are seeking experiences that challenge their palates and redefine their coffee rituals. One notable player embracing this trend is Square Deal, a specialty coffee store that offers a curated selection of single-origin beans and subscriptions for aficionados seeking quality and variety.

The Rise of Bold Flavors in Specialty Coffee

Specialty coffee, characterized by its high-quality beans and meticulous brewing methods, has always been about flavor. However, there's a growing emphasis on boldness—coffees that offer intense, complex, and memorable taste profiles. This shift caters to consumers who desire more than just a caffeine fix; they seek a sensory journey with each cup.

Roasters and cafes are responding by sourcing beans with distinctive flavor notes, experimenting with roasting techniques, and introducing brewing methods that highlight the coffee's inherent characteristics. The result is a diverse landscape where bold flavors are not just welcomed but celebrated.

Square Deal: Curating Bold Experiences

Square Deal stands out in this vibrant scene by offering a selection of single-origin coffees that promise bold and unique flavors. Their commitment to quality ensures that each bean's origin, processing method, and roast profile are chosen to deliver a distinctive taste experience.

For instance, their offerings might include beans with notes of dark chocolate, ripe berries, or spicy undertones—flavors that are both intense and nuanced. By focusing on single-origin beans, Square Deal allows customers to explore the diverse flavor profiles that different regions and processing methods impart.

Embracing the Bold at Your Local Café

The trend towards bold flavors isn't confined to specialty stores; it's permeating local cafés as well. Baristas are crafting beverages that highlight these intense profiles, from espresso shots that pack a punch to cold brews with unexpected flavor infusions.

Customers are encouraged to step out of their comfort zones and try coffees that challenge their taste perceptions. Whether it's a brew with a pronounced acidity or one with deep, smoky notes, the goal is to offer a memorable and satisfying experience.

Conclusion

Bold flavors are redefining the specialty coffee landscape, inviting consumers to explore and appreciate the depth and complexity that high-quality beans can offer. Square Deal exemplifies this movement by providing curated selections that cater to adventurous palates. As this trend continues to grow, coffee lovers can look forward to an exciting array of flavors that push the boundaries of traditional coffee experiences.

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