#christmas coffee shop au

[notupforpolo]

A BBC Ghosts coffee shop AU

Alison inherits a struggling coffee shop in the city – Button's Bakery. Her and Mike are unsure of what they're going to do with it, but in the process decide to visit at least visit a couple of times before the make anything final. The place is rundown, old fashioned and in Mike's opinion, has not one good tea option even if the cappuccinons are good.

They both decide to rent out the space after getting a good look at the finances – which are abysmal. But after the staff, who were all hired long before Alison and Mike came along, gets wind of this all hell breaks loose. They call and they text and email and when that doesn't make the couple budge suddenly emails from people who definitely aren't employees find their way into Alison's mailbox. Regulars start writing to her, protesting the closing of the café. That, and a number of, in her opinion, poorly written love letters that frankly border on creepy. The staff deny having given out her email adress. They are, of course, lying.

No one wants to rent, however. For some reason. Honestly, it's prime real estate, Alison! (It really isn't, Mike) So what choice do they have. To take some basic business classes together becomes next on the agenda and looking for an accountant replaces looking for tenants. A meetings with the assistant manager is scheduled. The first thing on his agenda is to establish that he introduced himself as 'The Captain', and that it is not something the others call him to be mean.

Alison asks the staff if she can try working behind the counter. She wants to learn how to use the espresso machine and the bread slicer, which seem intimidating. Instead she spends almost two whole shifts trying to figure out how to smoothly put a loaf of bread in a paper bag. The fact that she had Kitty – a young, fairly recently hired, part-timer – as her "teacher" doesn't help. The young woman is easily distracted and not what one would call a natural problem solver. Her sales, though, make up for it. When Kitty asks if you would like a freshly baked croissant with your coffee you would have to be heartless to say no. Mike also gets behind the register but when a customer asks for "an extra hot almond milk mocka latte with extra foam to go but without a lid" he decides that he found the meetings with their new accountant more interesting anyway.

Slowly but surely they get into somewhat of a routine. Button's Bakery is open 7-18 Tuesday through Friday and 8-16 on weekends. Closed on Mondays. Alison works with managing the café full time while Mike keeps his old job, the plan is for him to go full time when the fiances are just a little more stable. Actually, Mike finds that he, like, reallyyy likes the economic side and signs up for some evening classes on business and entrepreneur-stuff.

They keep all of the old staff. Originally, it had been because neither Alison nor Mike though they would run the place long enough to have to worry about staff. But then they had gotten attached to the bakery and the bakery came with the staff – and the regulars. Alison, who spent more time at the café than Mike, isn't sure she will ever be convinced it was the right decision. (She never doubts in, but she doesn't want to admit that). Mike uses the word peculiar to describe the lot of them and he's really proud he found that word in the moment because he did hit the nail with the head. (That's not you say that, Mike.)

Robin and Mary are the key to their success, thinks Alison privately. No one knows anything about Robin. It was the fist thing Alison and Mike got to know about the man. He's worked there longer than anyone else, is the second thing. Fanny, one of the baristas and unofficial assistant assistant manager, thinks he's a foreigner... or at least from somewhere up north. Mike thinks he might just have a speech impediment, or something. He's a magician when it comes to bread and sandwiches, that is the third thing Alison and Mike get to know. And they never doubted it after having a taste. He's also, strangely, the only person that understands the espresso machine. He burns the milk every time he tries to steam it but no one else can fix it when the espresso starts flowing to quickly. Or when the handles are loose. Or when the steam wand looses pressure. Or when– (Mike we really should think about investing in a new espresso machine.) (It's vintage though.)

Mary bakes the sweet stuff. Buns , rolls, biscuits, cakes, pies. Even made eclairs on a whim once. Alison knows this because the regulars never stop asking if they're coming back. Not one for customer service, however. Shy to the point of it becoming a problem at times as she refuses to work the till when someone is out sick. Not really a sales person, their Mary. But her girlfriend, Annie, isn't either and she was apparently a hit with the guests. Alison knows this because the regulars never stop asking if she's coming back. Actually, to be frank, they never shut up at all.

Well, Humphrey Bone does. He lives in an apartment three floors above the café and like to read the paper there in the mornings. He says good morning, orders a black coffee and ham and cheese sandwich and comments on the weather, before taking a plush chair in the corner. Then he reads The Guardian and when he's done with that he reads Le Monde. On weekends he adds a pain au chocolate to his usual order and does the crosswords. (It's more of a group effort at this point. The crossword in English, obviously. He does the French one all on his own.)

Another neighbour is Pat. He lives a little further down the street and comes in every Sunday with his son. It's their thing, he says excitedly to Alison the first time she's taking his order. One cup of English breakfast, one hot chocolate and two scones with jam. Before they leave he buys two pastries for them to have after dinner. In contrast to Humphrey, everyone knows a lot about Pat. He's a divorced banker who's true passion is his job as a scout leader and he also makes a mean meat pie. Some mornings, on his way to work, he'll stick his head in and say good morning to Robin, Mary and whoever's opening.

Thomas, Alison figures out with absolutely no effort at all, is the love-letter-email-sender. An english student who comes in weekday afternoons to study. Well, to study and to try seducing Alison. He wants to be a poet and makes it everyone's problem all the time. He's dramatic, self-important, spoiled and gives Alison a headache. The extra hot almond milk mocka latte with extra foam he orders gives Mike a headache.

The strangest regular, despite all the other's peculiarities, is the disgraced tory politician who comes and goes. Julian Fawcett was someone who people joked about on the tv, not someone Alison and Mike expected to have to serve coffee. The first time they're there when he comes in, Mike asks him to his face if he wasn't 'the tory who, like, did the kinky sex in public thing'. Alison considered selling again. But to their surprise, especially following that first meeting, they both grew to reluctantly like Julian. He doesn't have a filter and Alison never let's him talk unsupervised to Kitty, ('She's impressionable, Mike!) but he's funny and can talk to Robin for hours. When and how often during the week he'll visit is anyone's guess but when he does a triple espresso is waiting.

Months pass. Then years. Button's Bakery thrives under Alison and Mike's care despite some rough first years. Mary leaves because her and Annie are moving to France. The Captain properly introduces them to his secret beau after he finally accepts that they all know anyway. They do get a new espresso machine and Robin remains the espresso machine whisperer but it's real master is Kitty. Thomas graduates, Pat retires. Fanny becomes Alison and Mike's real accountant when they decide to expand after Mike decides that maybe business is very much his thing and he wants to do more. Humphrey get's an ipad to read Le Monde but still buys a paper copy of The Guardian. No one is sure what Julian does but he now gets coffee with his daughter sometimes.

And Alison watches is all. Through bad times and good, she guides Button's Bakery with a gentle hand and an exasperated tone. It couldn't have been done without her.

sorry for the formatting I hit a "4096 text-character-per-block(?) limit"

[industrations]

"Jam just come in and stands there looking at the menu while one of his shirt buttons pop bc of his ginormous humongous milkers and it falls in the tip jar" - Industrations, 2023

What can i say…thats just true innit

[thru-the-grapevine]

Holiday Rush

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Summary: Your favorite regular has one hell of a way of saying Merry Christmas (and getting your attention).

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: coffee shop au, sugar daddy-adjacent au, fluff

You’ve had less eventful Christmas Eve mornings, to be sure. Especially 4:30 AMs on Christmas Eve mornings. For starters, you were asleep like a normal person on all the other ones. For another, you weren’t usually bailed on out of nowhere by your manager due to “a family emergency”, leaving you in charge of the entire store. Nor were you typically bailed on by two other workers, both of whom had a “sudden onset illness”, leaving you with only three people other than you to cover everything the inevitable last-minute holiday-shopping horde would throw at you.

By the time you’ve got things in some semblance of order and preparation for opening, there’s already a car idling in the drive thru, and there’s a slight ache in your left temple.

“Siobhan, you’re on mobile bar,” you order. “Luke, drive bar. You’ll both have to do your own cold bar since Geo and Kennedy flaked. I need Phoenix on customer support and food. I’m gonna attempt solo drive for the first couple hours, and if it gets nuts I’ll pull one of you in to assist. If it gets slow in your area, work on putting away the order. I may have to turn off mobile if it comes to it, but that’ll piss people off, so let’s try to keep up.”

You slip your headset on, watch the digital clock on the order screen turn from 4:59 to 5:00, then click the button. “Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you this morning?”

“Morning, Chief. Didn’t think you’d be here today. Happy Christmas Eve.”

A little of the tension in your head relaxes, and you smile, tapping away at the order screen. “Ah, Gyu. You’re early. Happy Christmas Eve. Usual?”

“Sounds perfect, thanks.”

“Come on around,” you say, not caring if you sound a little flirty.

Your store has its regulars, and he is by far your favorite. He comes in nearly every day, orders the same thing (grande caramel macchiato, extra shot, for “Gyu”), makes friendly conversation, and leaves a tip three times the price of his drink. Without fail. You’ve never figured out what it is he does for a living, but given the immaculate cars (yes, plural) you’ve seen him drive through in, it probably pays really well.

The whole staff loves him. Some of the bolder ones flirt with him just to fluster him, but they know if you’re on the floor to let you hand him the drink. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he seems to have a soft spot for you. He mistook you for the manager when he first stopped into the cafe, and he’s called you different in-charge nicknames since then—“chief”, “captain”, “commander”. It’s probably giving you an authority complex. You don’t care. The confidence boost his interest in you has given over the past year has gifted you a boldness that he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Must be Gyu already,” Siobhan remarks when she sees you surreptitiously smoothing your hair.

You flip her off as the hood of a familiar black BMW comes into view.

“Kinda early for Christmas Eve,” you say by way of greeting as the car window pulls level with yours.

God, he’s gorgeous, smiling up at you, all bundled up in his expensive-looking wool coat and black turtleneck.

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Don’t they ever give you a break around here?”

Your smile turns wry, and you sigh lightly. “They’d perish without me, I think.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, grimacing lightly in sympathy. “Hopefully not here all day, right? Got plans for the holiday?”

“Just here ‘til noon, then going an hour north to my family’s for a couple days,” you tell him, grabbing the scanner. “Want me to cash you out?”

“Ah. About that.”

You watch him reach into the passenger seat, grabbing something the size of a woman’s clutch, then extends it to you.

You set the scanner down and go to take it, then freeze, blinking.

“Uh. Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“What is that?”

“...Money?”

“I mean. I. Yeah, like. Is it…real?”

“Yes?”

“That’s…way more than your drink.”

“Yes.”

“Like. Are those all twenties?”

“Yes.”

“...I only need a fourth of a single one of those.”

“I know. Take them all.”

You don’t understand. “I—wh…”

He grins. “I feel like being Saint Nick today. I’m paying it forward for the next customers.”

Holy shit. “The next…thousand customers?”

“Hardly. Probably half that. But you don’t know how many big orders there will be, it could be less than that, too.”

“Sir.” Your head is spinning, hand still frozen inches away from the stack of bills that looks honest-to-god like out of the mafia movies. “Sir. That’s…”

You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. That’s not necessary? Your manager would kill you if she found out you refused generosity. That’s ridiculous? It might be, but you don’t want to tell this man that, not when he’s been so wonderful to you.

“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to take this,” you say.

He shrugs. “It’s all twenties, not fifties or hundreds. You can mark them all with a counterfeit pen if it helps. Call your manager if you need, I can talk to her. If you need to call the cops, even, you can. C’mon, I’ve been planning on this for ages. Let me do this.”

The thing is…he’s allowed to do this. You suppose. Technically. You huff a single, breathless laugh, incredulous.

��You…are fucking insane,” you breathe, grinning, not caring how in awe you sound.

His smile turns flustered, and he laughs a little. “If it doesn’t all get used today, put the rest in the tips.”

He’s finally done it. He’s finally rendered you speechless. You can feel your mouth hanging open, not sure what you’re supposed to say. Not sure what you can say.

Gingerly, like it’s alive, you take the stack of bills he’s offering.

“Dude,” you say, laughing again. Absurd. “Dude. Are you…?”

“Completely sure,” he says, eyes warm. “Merry Christmas to your customers. And your staff. And you.”

“Grande caramel macchiato, extra shot,” Luke says behind you, sliding you the cup.

You linger a moment longer, holding eye contact, before ducking back in the window and setting the cash next to the register, swapping it for the drink.

“Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you hand him the drink. “Have a merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says, grinning, and then he winks at you.

Your insides light up like a Christmas tree. You indulge for a second and stare after his car as he drives off. God. What?

This Christmas Eve is about to be the most fascinating yet.

You have to get Phoenix on headset to take the next drive-thru order so you have time to count out the bills and cash out the order properly. You feel lightheaded after counting the first several hundred, possibly a little ill by the time you total it out. Three thousand.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, laughing as you punch in the frankly ludicrous number. That’s half of what the store makes on a slow day. Granted, today will not be a slow day–you can already see more cars filing into the parking lot–but that money covers a chunk of business.

All morning, you have the absolute joy of watching people come up to the window, ready to pay, and telling them “actually, your order’s been covered by someone further up in line”. The looks of surprise, the occasional relief, and the smiles don’t get old or lose their shine. A couple of people get emotional, and you can’t blame them. You feel your own throat tighten when some of the customers insist on paying for the person behind them.

“Someone spotted me, let me spot someone, too,” one lady puts it, paying twice what she would have paid originally to cover the vanload behind her. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”

“Crazy what a little generosity inspires in people,” Phoenix comments as the lady drives away.

You can’t say you disagree, but there’s only one man in mind when you think it.

Luke points out that the more people keep paying it forward, the less that initial amount goes down, and the more of it that gets allotted to tips. You outright refuse to think about it. I can’t take that. There’s no way. I’ll have to give him money back, that’s just…

Even by the time you switch off of drive with Siobhan, about 75% of customers insist on continuing to pay it forward, keeping the dizzying remaining amount from Gyu fairly steady. Siobhan is far less willing to do the mental work of paying it forward and eventually asks whether it can’t just be cashed out to the tip fund.

“He probably wanted to leave most of it as tips, anyway,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “He’s got a track record, plus he likes you.”

You feel your face grow hot. “He does not.”

Siobhan rolls her eyes. “Whatever, live in denial. Can I put this in the tip fund?”

“...Fine.”

For the last hour of your shift, you concentrate on calculating tips. Even divided amongst all the store employees and adjusted for the amount of hours each person worked, everyone ends up with over a hundred in tips total. You end up with nearly twice that, after the hours you’ve done. Crazy. Absolutely unreal. You’re already thinking of the last couple gifts you were hoping you could afford to spring for for family and friends. Easily done now, with this tip money.

“Tips are in the safe,” you tell your coworkers as you zip up your coat and make for the door. “Everyone say Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

You grin as you hear a chorus of “Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu!” behind you as you step out into the cold.

You’re halfway across the parking lot to your car when you notice a black BMW. You wander to a stop, hesitant, as the car pulls even with you in the nearest parking spot and the door opens.

“Did you need more coffee?” You ask, biting your lip as he steps out.

Gyu closes his car door and shakes his head, grinning. “Already got my fix today, I’m good.”

“Shame,” you say, fighting a smile, “because I happen to know that if you went through the drive-thru right now, your order would already be covered.”

He leans back against his car and raises his eyebrows. “It lasted this long? You’d think there’d be more business than that today.”

“Everyone else kept insisting on paying it forward, too,” you say, shaking your head in awe. “What did you start?”

“Well, you certainly deserve it,” he says, and the way his smile softens makes your stomach flutter. “Hopefully it’ll end up as tips, if people keep paying it forward?”

“It’s too much,” you tell him, trying to be as firm as possible. “Far too much. I really can’t accept that.”

“It’s a gift,” he insists. “For how long you’ve been subjected to my patronage.”

“Everyone loves you in the store, they always have,” you argue.

He looks at you intently. “Everyone?”

You feel your face grow hot again. “...Yes. Everyone.”

You push through the way you want to be flustered as he grins. “But that’s what I’m saying. You’re hardly a difficult customer. It was too much.”

“You know,” he says, “it’s possible I just want to spoil you.”

You open your mouth, then snap it shut, then open it again. Holy shit, he’s made you speechless again. Twice in the same day.

“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly.

He gives you a Look. “I’ve talked to you nearly every day for around a year. I know lots of things about you. Like your cats. Your family, mainly your sister. The saga of your car. Things you like to read and watch. Some of the jokes you find funny. And you know a lot of the same things about me.”

“I don’t even know if Gyu is your real name!” You burst out.

He frowns. “It is, mostly. It’s short for Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. You’ve seen it on the receipts.”

You haven’t, but you believe him. You try out the name. “Mingyu.”

A corner of his mouth curls into a smile. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. “Tell me that hasn’t been your only hangup this whole time.”

“I-I mean…” you stammer. “N-no? I mean, it’s been one thing, but like…you’re, like. Um. You seem very…successful, and I’m…”

He frowns. “You’re successful, too. I—wait. Is this…is it money?”

“I guess I’m just…embarrassed,” you say, feeling your face burn in shame. “Maybe my pride’s too big, I dunno.”

“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is some weird, fetish-y charity case thing I have, or that I think you can be, like, bought or something,” he says, looking serious. “If you really can’t accept the money, I won’t stop you from giving it back.”

He sighs, teeth worrying his lower lip. “I just…I like you. I always have. You seem to be the only person who doesn’t realize it, or maybe I’m the idiot who can’t take a hint, but—”

“Mingyu—”

“But I really do,” he continues doggedly. “I think you work hard, but you’re so kind. You do good work so that you can be kind, so you can give people more than just something to eat or drink, and that’s just…it’s really—”

“I could kiss you right now for that,” you say, then slap a hand over your mouth. Dude??

Mingyu blinks, then laughs. “At least let me take you to dinner first.”

You wish you could sink into the pavement, even as your heart gives a silly little leap. He wants to take me to dinner. “I…I’m…”

“I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve got places to be,” he says, and you wonder if he looks a little nervous. “But I really would like to see you. Outside of work. Would you let me take you out sometime?”

You stand there for a moment in stupefied silence. Holy shit, this has to be a dream. A man like Kim Mingyu doesn’t just…give your workplace thousands of dollars to tip you and then ask you to dinner. What in the name of Wattpad...

“I…you’re fucking insane,” you laugh, breathless.

He looks like he doesn’t know how to take this, and before you can talk yourself out of it you find yourself saying, “I’m, uh, I’m free on New Years?”

A slow grin spreads over his face. “Yeah? Funny enough, so am I.”

Definitely the strangest Christmas Eve you’ve ever had. But it may also be your new favorite.

[outtoshatter]

I just felt like putting together a little list of some recently published fics in our not-so-little fandom! I got a TON of help from @missanniewhimsy putting this together, thank you so much!! Some of these are more winter than Christmas but it’s mostly festive! This list got a tiny bit long so I added a cut to make things nice and neat! Please enjoy and maybe leave the authors some love if you can! :D

Krampusnacht, or How Derek and Stiles Got a Kid for Christmas by HisBeloved (6k, T)

When Peter Hale was a child he was almost taken by Krampus.  He's hated Christmas ever since.  This is the year that Krampus returns.

Hale’s Bookish Tales by raisesomehale (5k, E)

The man (who Derek had taken to calling ‘Bambi’ in his head) had arrived at Hale’s Bookish Tales painfully early that morning. Normally when he came in he would sprawl out in the desk under the large bay window up front, but today he’d made a bee-line for the lower level and hadn’t returned to the surface since.

Not even after the mass blizzard alert hit, and all the other customers had fled.

If it wasn’t for Derek’s increasingly unhinged infatuation with the man - and thus over-awareness of his presence - he wouldn’t even have noticed that a customer still remained in his bookshop. But Derek had been carefully watching the stream of customers filing out, and had noticed the glaring absence of one in particular.

give me your heart, darling, for christmas by sterekhale (15k, T)

  "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the Christmas party because Joanna's gonna be there!" Stiles shouts as he barges through the door to Derek’s apartment.  

Derek doesn't look up from the book he’s reading. "I see that you're still handling your problems with the same level of maturity." — Stiles wants to convince his ex-girlfriend that he’s totally over her—because he is, he barely even thinks about her anymore—and he needs Derek’s help to do the convincing. He’s just a little oblivious of Derek’s feelings for him.

baby please come home by elisela (5k, G)

Stiles should be happy.

He should be happy, he should be fucking delighted—there’s a bottle of champagne being uncorked, hands being shaken, a too-hearty clap on his back that jolts him forward and causes him to stumble slightly. But the space in his chest that usually burns with the high of a closed deal is hollow, empty, and the twinkling gold Christmas lights one of the secretaries had hung in the office mock him, a depressing reminder that he’s about to be alone for the holidays.

It feels like I don’t know you anymore, was the last thing Derek had muttered to him, standing in the threshold of what had been their apartment, backpack slung over one shoulder and duffle bag strap clenched in his fist. I can’t do this.

Poetry in the Raw by Jmeelee (5k, E)

Derek answers his phone on the second ring.  “What.” No inflection whatsoever.  

“Does the ‘S’ in your middle name stand for Sexy?”

Silence.  Then, “Stiles.”  Still no inflection.  

“I doubt it stands for Stiles, dude.  There can only be one,” he answers in a kick-ass impersonation of The Kurgan.  “But tell me it isn’t, like, Sawyer or Skylar or something equally new-age and white-boy contemporary.”

“How did you get my number?”

OR: 5 times Stiles guesses Derek's middle name +1 time he knows.

All I Want for Christmas Is Brew (And You) by snarkatthemoon (4k, T)

“One spiced hazelnut mocha for the dude with the impressive eyebrows and cute scarf,” he says, handing Derek the cup instead of putting it down on the counter like all the baristas do. Their fingers brush gently, and Derek takes far too long to take the cup from Stiles, their eyes meeting.

Ask him for his number, his brain supplies in a voice which sounds scarily like his sister’s. Stiles raises his eyebrows, their eyes still locked and both still holding the cup.

The second Derek opens his mouth, the moment is broken by one of the other baristas shouting, “Stiles! We could all use a little help here considering we have a line going out the door.”

Stiles pulls his hand away as if he’s been burned, giving Derek a sheepish smile before he turns to get back to work.

Derek heads out past the line of irritated customers, ignoring the dirty looks he’s being given while he curses himself inwardly. Idiot. That voice sounds like his other sister.

.

Or, the one where Derek has a crush on a hot barista with a talent for baking and a questionable taste in festive headwear. Written for the Sterek Secret Santa 2021 gift exchange.

McLinski’s by StaciNadia (3k, G)

Derek is a coffee snob looking for some good coffee, but what he finds is bad coffee jokes and maybe a whole lot more. 

Build A Wolf by PalenDrome (5k, T)

Derek is a romantic. He dreams of finding his mate, of connecting with that special someone who will make his heart swoon.

Easy Wind, Downy Flake by wanderingeyre (16k, E)

The man’s hazel eyes snap with something like anger, his mouth a thin line. “We aren’t open.”

Stiles opens his mouth, gaze sliding from the fire, being cheerful, to the man standing five feet from the fire who looks like he wouldn’t know cheerful if it bit him in the ass. “The snow is bad. I barely made it here. If I try to go over the pass in this weather they’ll find my body at the bottom of the mountain come spring.”

Sock-Stuffed Stockings (and other traditions) by redhoodedwolf (9k, T)

Stiles just wants to make it home in time for christmas, so when traffic is crawling due to an accident on the highway he takes a detour down the back roads, only for his beloved jeep to give out. but doesn’t derek hale live in these woods? stiles hasn’t seen him since they were teenagers, but the gentle guy who opens the door with a kid on his hip is definitely not what he expects from the arrogant dick who ignored him back in high school.

[sunyandmony]

@cozyreplicace !!! It is I, your secret Santa!!! :3

Hope you're enjoying Christmas and that you'll have a great new year!!!<3🎉

And to everyone else happy holidays too!! ✨

I listened to this and a version made by •IsDumb_Keirī• a lot making the ss check it out if you want to!!:>

Gift under cut 👀

Word count: 3,832 words

Time taken: 1-2 weeks:')

“One to 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 see….”

Even while they were trying their best, not one day passed where they wouldn’t mess something up when they saw just who had passed by their coffee shop yet again. And that someone was you.

Since moving to this new neighborhood,you have passed by their little coffee shop every single day. And they were head over heels just watching you from afar. Sun's crush was more than obvious, as every time he saw you and was doing something, he'd immediately freeze. He once was making an order, in the middle of pouring milk into the drink, when you came into view. His eyes widened like he saw a ghost, and he literally ignored the woman in front of him shouting for him to stop pouring milk in her drink.

The moment you were gone, he was back to normal like it never happened. He immediately got to cleaning and re-did the order for the woman. And then another day passed.

It only got worse the very first time you walked through that door. Everything about you was bright, from your manners, to your aura, and even to your looks. When you approached them they were immediately stuck in place. Both Sun and Moon. Sun had completely forgotten his job for a moment as he stared at you. Moon wasn’t staring as openly as his partner, yet his thoughts still ran a mile a second.

Both snapped out of their trance once you started speaking, placing your order and walking away to sit down at one of the tables near the windows, which had a great view outside. Moon was more than determined to explore these new feelings while he could. Sun on the other hand would completely go all in just for a spec of attention from you.

And not long afterwards that Moon bought your order, thanking you for visiting their shop and stumbling away just as quickly as he came. You were a little oblivious to that as you searched through your backpack to find your phone. And immediately got to scrolling through your media. Even so their staring did not stop, Moon from the back ever so often peeking while Sun obviously couldn't concentrate on anything, just your presence alone doing this to them.

They didn't want to admit it though, not when they barely knew you. And they weren't going to judge you only by your looks, because that's not how it works, not even to them.

And so, sooner than later, they approached you. Sun was the one to ask if you could give him your phone number to hang out sometimes. And without hesitation or even a single second spent thinking, you did. It wasn't that he didn't want it, it's just how easily he got it from you. You didn't give any mind to him when he all bubbly and excitedly over measure started to stumble away and back behind the counter. In any case he wasn't weird to you, but rather nice.

You did come here quite a lot, and got to have small talks with them. And by this point, they were very nice and actually more normal and chill then your coworkers who kept on making fun of you for liking them in the first place or even hanging out with them. Did that stop you? In no fucking way. You were gonna hang out with sentient animatronics. And no one will stop you. Not your parents, not your friend, not your coworkers and especially not your boss.

When you were young you didn't have many friends as everyone thought of you as ‘weird’, only a single person that tolerated you enough but not quite a friend either. But if these two were going to be your friends, you sure as heck will do anything in your being to keep this friendship going!

And back to the present, it went so well that you became best friends with both of them. Moon was a bit of a challenge, but not hard enough to stop you, that's for sure. And you soon became a daily, early morning customer that they talked with. And you noticed that as time went on, Sun stopped stumbling over his words. He said something having to do with his programming, though you doubt it, but didn't say a single thing. Moon also stopped being so off-to-the-side and opened himself up a little more to the idea, hanging out with you and having small talks seemed to do just fine with him.

If it wasn't for the fact they were so sentient, you would've thought they were yet another fazbear cheap product, but they were far from that. They weren't programmed with feelings, but they developed them. And the sentience that came along. You had yet to discover what else they're hiding beside the obvious.

Moon's love and affection seemed to be represented more by intimate touches and words of affirmation from you. He is very quiet but at least responds and will listen to you ramble for hours just to hear the soft melody of your voice. He wouldn't mind his circuits frying just a little to hear your sweet voice sing for him. He did hear you once singing along to something, not a lullaby but rather a soft song nonetheless. You had something going on that he genuinely couldn't get his eyes off. Though you did notice that when he can't say anything back, he just looks to the side and covers his face with his nightcap, which is kinda cute. The gesture, not the nightcap sadly, as it doesn't quite fit the theme of a coffee shop. But you didn't mind it, after all you weren't the one who designed them.

Sun is an energetic fella to say the least, he is always upbeat and ready for your arrival. He had the loudest voice you had yet to hear, pointing out everything new about yourself from day to day, and what changed or maybe what should be changed. It wasn't annoying, and it actually helped you a lot. He gives you daily advice and tips, and it is certainly welcomed. He had a weird way to show his affection, being all touchy and feely with you.. The touching wasn't unwelcome either though, as it seemed the both of you were just as touch starved. Though you did have your moments with him in silence, those are always cut short whatsoever and he has to leave you alone. Again.

.. Was it bad to think about them so much nowadays even after leaving the coffee shop? Like, they were certainly not that bad to think and daydream about but.. Were you seriously doing that on two animatronics that might not even share the feeling back? Yeah. And heck if anyone will stop you.

This was much different than a teenager crush in high school. This was real, and not on the internet. And you would be more than willing to make them realize what you feel. Even if it'll take years. And here you are though, wondering just how these two stole your heart without even doing anything more than being nice to you.

And today was yet another day, a weekend for once. Where you didn't have to work. And so, you get up and dress yourself before going out and straight to the coffee shop, which is just a corner away from your house. You're however immediately greeted by Sun hugging you and talking your brain out. It wasn't that bad at least when he set you down to lead you to your usual seat. He took your order and sat himself down in front of you while Moon prepared your drink for you in the back.

Sun just keeps on rumbling every second you are there, remarking how the kiddos are such messes and leave trash behind themselves at times when they shouldn't. Despite knowing the rules too. You weren't listening to him all that much despite being known to be a good listener. You were just staring out the window and daydreaming while he spoke in the background to fill the silence. It was nice to know he didn't mind you doing so. Not that he would.

Meanwhile your order is set down in front of you as Moon settles to lean over the seat behind Sun, mocking him and joining the discussion with his own little additions to Sun's stories.

At one point you swore Moon said something about Sun having a crush, which immediately made you perk up just at the mention. “A crush?! Who's the lucky one?” You piped up with your own question, the silence settling in as you stared at Sun, to which he immediately shrunk in his seat, rays retracting in his face plate. There was the faint noise of motors and fans working overtime as Moon excused themselves and helped Sun up, walking away with him and looking back to you with an apologetic smile before going in the back and out of view.

Later on Moon did come out of the back, but alone instead and settled in the same weird position on the seat in front of you, reassuring you Sun is okay and just needs a brief break.

Did you pass some boundaries? It seemed like so.. Maybe apologizing when he's ready will be better than bothering him at the moment. After all it's not your business to poke in. Yet you did what you did and you can't turn back time, just try making your future better and not let this friendship fall apart..

And so, Moon keeps you company while you're still there, be it through the silence or listening to you talking and adding his own opinions on the subjects. It did keep up your mood, and after a while you left, leaving yet another unasked for tip behind as you could feel eyes watching you. Felt like so for a while until the coffee shop was out of sight.

Once gotten home to change into something nicer for wear, you settle outside in your front yard at a table you bought and stare at the sky, the clouds moving ever so slowly over the horizon as the wind passes through the leaves and branches of the trees amongst the streets. The faint sound of chirping birds rings in your ears as you lay back, completely drowning yourself in your thoughts without even noticing that time still passes by as well.

You close your eyes, legs swinging back and forth unconsciously as you still cannot stop thinking about those two. Especially Sun at the moment, and how you might've invaded his privacy by asking what you did. He trusted you, and you ruined it right before your eyes. He probably feels more hurt than you. Not that you could know, since you didn't wanna push it further and go ask him that.

And so, this afternoon you didn't go back, deciding to just stay inside for today and focus on your work instead. Something to blur out the events of the day, and yet it doesn't seem to work. Only weighing you down more. They did not call you the whole time, only getting a message from Moon by evening saying that tomorrow you didn't have to come if you don't wanna. You sent back nothing, just staring at the screen of your phone in the empty silence of your living room.

They were both worried about you, even if it hasn't been more than a day. You were always the one to start a conversation topic in their message group, and then you went silent. Not only for one day, but for several days. You did pass by the coffee shop as is, but did not dare look at the building and hurry past it. Did you feel so bad that you thought you needed to give them that much time?

With a lot of confidence, finally, Sun sends a message to you asking if you're free Friday afternoon for a short talk together at the park. He didn't mention about what, and so you just said ‘alright’ and waited till Friday arrived before checking the time and going out on your way.

Once passing by the bakery and a few trinkets shops you finally arrive in the park, which is big. All around trees of all shapes and sizes, casting a shadow over benches and other adults and kids playing around or having a picnic of their own while you walked by towards the middle of the huge park, where a monumental fountain stood, water shooting upwards and back down as you sat yourself onto the cold edge, hand reaching out and immediately getting wet as the water lands on your forearm.

A chuckle leaves your throat at that, while you were an adult you couldn't help it. Your inner child is still there and alive, it seems. Birds continue to chirp all around as you wait for Sun to arrive. Which did not take that long once you saw the towering figure sit down next to you. Neither of you looked at the other for a while, mostly just enjoying the wild life in this place while you could.

The silence however is interrupted by a slightly off cough from Sun's voice box. He turns to look at you while you're still distracted by the running water in the fountain. “Firefly?.. I wanted to say, or well, perhaps ask:Are you avoiding us on purpose?” It sounded more awkward than he intended it to be, but it's already too late to take it back now. Your movements froze and your arm dropped back to your side. “Yeah… Look, I just thought you're mad- And I wouldn't be angry if you still are! But I wanted to give you some time first to chill down and all that jazz-” A brief explanation did it all.

With a reluctant voice in the back of your head, telling you not to, you turn anyway to face him. A white, milky void meets your eyes as you once again remember that he doesn't have any pupils. And so it was hard to tell if he's looking at you or through you. Though you doubted he would look through, and rather at you when you try speaking with him. “Ah.. But you didn't have to, I wasn't actually mad! Oh, no no no! I was just a little embarrassed is all!” He confesses, waving off your worries. Though it did not help with the gut twisting inside your stomach, telling you that something was wrong aside from what he is saying to you.

“Look, if you're trying to be nice just to ease my nerves. I've dealt with worse. So I'll ask once: Are you telling the truth or not?” You empathize your words, looking him in the eyes with as much courage and force as you have gathered till now.

He goes completely stiff, as if you've asked him a question that he needed to answer for a million dollars. “Well… That's not the case, at least not now! And-.... And yes, I am telling the truth!! I would never lie to you!” He empathized ‘never’ with a slight change of his tone before he went back to normal…

While you tried to believe him, and did. It was quite obvious that he's avoiding telling you something else, a detail that might be important. Even so, you let it slip past you. “I believe you, Sun, I do… But are you sure there's nothing you're not saying?” Again. And this time he quickly nods. “Yes! Yes yes yes! I am not missing anything, little ol’ Sunny wouldn't do that!” His voice betrays the way he looks at you once the silence settles in.

. . .

It's been about two days since, and everything went back to normal. Or so you thought. Not that you noticed how Moon was a little more adamant towards Sun to take more rest (thinking about it, do they even need to rest?). Today was no exception, the bickering starting again. You haven't even noticed when they went silent, as you have been staring out the window and spacing out. For more than one reason, that is-

And to say the looks they gave you didn't make you raise an eyebrow was a huge understatement..

“What are you two up to now?” You broke the silence, seeing as Sun immediately perked up like a cat getting called out by its owner. While it was a bit funny, you had to focus. The dramatic Moon gasps, now leaning with his back over the seat and looking at you from an odd angle no human could maintain. “Ah, starlight! How could you think we are up to anything?! We are just merely having fun!” There he goes again, the acting and the off voice… Yeah, they're up to something.

“Right… ‘Fun’.. And what is that supposed to mean in your terms?” Your eyes narrow at him suspiciously. You were gonna play along if he felt like he wanted to be a ‘drama queen’ today. He, once again gasps, but this time a little louder as he rotates his torso to face you properly(noting that his lower body wasn't moving along, so it was very disturbing to look at..) “Mhmm… Good question, starlight~... Just harmless fun, what else? Sunny here is easy to annoy, ya know?” He points out, his finger poking one of Sun's rays, to which the solar bot immediately shoves his hand away with a huff and a playful smirk forming on his face. Sun didn't seem annoyed though, maybe just a little bothered, but nonetheless having fun.

For once, you chuckle. “Fine, just don't blame me if you poke his eyes the next time you do it.” You add, getting up from your seat and leaving the money for your breakfast behind, running to not be late for work. That was.. Surely an experience.

The moment you left, both let out a sigh, Moon of relief that you believed them and Sun of pure exhaustion as he slammed his head against the table, ignoring how the object had zero time to adjust to the sudden weight. He was embarrassed. He didn't know why, but he was and it was tiring to keep a straight face while talking to you. It was either his crush getting worse or the fact that more awful customers came by here this week. Could even be both at this point. He wouldn't know.

Moon sat down next to the solar bot, a hand running through his rays. That usually does it for comfort, and as expected Sun does relax a little, but still doesn't seem like he wants to move. “Sunny?” The lunar bot gently taps the other bot’s shoulder. Sun responds with a grunt, straightening again and leaning against Moon's shoulder. Both say nothing about it, the silence speaking for itself.

He did not know at this point what's wrong with himself, he was just trying to become better friends with you after the little mishap. Yet it was him who seemed to slip away little by little while Moon was less obvious than him. His counterpart was always better at this, at hiding it. Though what good does that do? None. It only makes it more awkward than anything else. But even so, Sun never let his feelings drag him down. He will say it, be it tomorrow, the next day after or heck even a week later! It was better sooner than later…

When he thought everything would go better, this wasn't what he meant or even hoped for…

The next few days went a little better than he expected, and his courage actually gathered up. Though today you didn't come by for breakfast, neither for lunch or dinner or even a drink… All of a sudden to be gone, not even seen outside once, was hitting him in the back of his head. He gathers himself even so, you are strong. You can do anything. You'll be fine.. Right?

The day passes and the shop closes for the night. Still no sight. Maybe he was being a little irrational and selfish wanting to see you every day. But he couldn't quite help it.

The next day was about the same as the other. And the next, and the next and so on for, this time, about a few weeks. No sight of you by anyone they knew was connected to you in any way. It was getting worse and worse than they'd like to admit. Not that they would, since anyone they could tell this to was probably countries away from where they are right now. And not that either party had time to contact the other about anything..

Talking about time, it was once again time to open back up. They've been waiting with open arms and fresh food and drinks for you every day since, as the police said to not get involved any more and that they'll find you themselves. The both were honestly just feeling bad and useless for not helping out nonetheless. Humans were much different than them and honestly not all that good to depend on, but… They couldn't really do much as their programming was very much so strict that it kept them from intervening with anything outside their work.

And once more, they were alone again to ache after a person that maybe will never come back again… And it hurts, it hurts really bad deep in their very cores, but it can't be helped by anything, not even the daily girl that came by to always say ‘hi’ before going to school, and it was honestly affecting their work as well. It was noticed by almost everyone they saw, even if not daily, and no one could offer any consolation to them as they didn't really know what was truly wrong with them.

It was more than enough to make Sun more anxious around people that looked a little similar to you and always think of the worst if anything happened. Moon was no better than his solar counterpart…

They haven't gotten any news for months on end, and at this point they were just giving up and trying to focus on their work unless they wanted to get decommissioned as some particular others did… The future held a dark promise to them, every single time and this once it didn't change. It felt like every single person they interacted with got cursed by something..

And so, they work and work and work till their machinery is gonna be out of oil and gears to turn, and their last thoughts will get erased as many others knew it would. It was primal knowledge.. And it hurts..A lot…

It's al͓̽way͓̽s watc͕͗ͤ̕̕hỉ͔͖̜͌ng…. It n̤̮e̶v̶e̶r͜͡ lẹ̿͋̒̕f̵͖̜̉ͅt….

[pinklikeroses]

Cursed coffee au~☕️🌺🎄🕯

Wip

Wanted to show off this panel before I covered it up with speech balloons

I’m not good at backgrounds but I looove using different textures!

The frost window pane was my favorite to draw ❄️♥️

[bewires]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Characters: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Nile Freeman Additional Tags: Minor Andromaquynh appearance, holiday romance, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Snow, Comeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, barista joe, Baker Joe, artist Joe - Freeform, Bookshop owner Booker, The Only Person Keeping This Business Afloat Nile, customer nicky, Nicky's mom, mentioned past homophobia in Nicky's family, Not his mother though Summary:

“I still don’t have a boyfriend to bring to the stupid Starbucks holiday party,” Joe said mulishly.

“So you invent some dashing, romantic reason he couldn’t make it,” Nicky said.

When he shook his head, Joe’s curls wobbled a bit. Not for the first time, Nicky restrained the urge to reach out and touch. “There’s nothing dashing or romantic about missing a date,” Joe said firmly.

“He’s a surgeon who had to perform open-heart surgery on a four-year-old to get her home in time for Christmas,” Nicky offered. “He’s a fireman busy putting out electrical fires in overdecorated houses.”

Joe burst out laughing. “Who would believe that?”

Or: Joe asks Nicky to be his fake date to the holiday party at the Starbucks across the street from his little independent café-slash-bookstore. Nicky has no self-preservation and is completely in love with Joe, so of course he agrees.

[arimakes]

A Christmas one shot! Under 5,000 words. No Upside Down.

[chamomiletealeaf]

❄️ Baby, It's Cold Outside ❄️

When you, a barista at a cozy coffee shop is on the closing shift, a familiar face walks in just as you’re about to get badly snowed in from an unexpected snow storm, leaving you with no choice but to stay the night, a café couch, and the company of Simon Riley.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

You Remind Me Of Home

by weird_witchcraft

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Jeff (Stranger Things), Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things), Chrissy Cunningham Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Winter, Holidays, Side Buckingham, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, smut at the end, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Porn With Plot, Not super Christmassy I promise, Barista Steve Harrington Words: 11,799 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Steve and Robin are just trying to get through the end of the semester working at the cafe on their college campus, but Steve keeps getting distracted whenever he sees that hot metalhead guy who’s only ordered coffee once. -:-:-:-:- “It’s fine, Rob. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember the conversation we had.” “Well I sure do, you only told me about it like a hundred times… ‘Oh Robin, did you hear him? Did you hear him call me ‘Big Boy’, oh my god Robin do you think he was hitting on me?’ Honestly dingus, you were voted biggest flirt in high school, you’d think you’d be able to take it as much as you dish it out.” “Shut up, I’m not that bad!” “Yes, you are—I swear—it’s like you realize that you can like boys too, and I’m back in seventh grade, listening to you talk about your little school girl crush.”

[mxdae]

Proceeds go to Medical Aid for Palestinians.

[flannelepicurean]

Fic Excerpt: Holiday Rush

Okay. So. Not that long ago, I started finally doing a Coffee Shop AU in the DBZ space, and it got completely out of hand (like they do) and became a dystopian-humor meditation on corporate customer service work, with light smut. Also, the latter half of it turned into a Christmas/holiday special, because...it got completely out of hand, and by then, it made PERFECT SENSE for Frieza to put them under an insane holiday sales rush challenge with the abolition of the heinous indentured servitude contracts for Raditz and Vegeta as the year-end prize.

I have NOT finished the entire piece in time for this Christmas, because there is A LOT of it, and I hope to have it completed in time for next year.

But SWEET BABY GOKU IN A GODDAMN MANGER, I really, REALLY need y'all to come with me on the journey of "Goku's 'True Meaning of Christmas' Speech, and the Subsequent 'Spirit Bomb of Social Media' Event" moment. AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!😂😂😂

Here go:

Goku grumbles a fierce, “This isn’t right,” and turns off the blender.

Vegeta’s heart stops. The floor tilts. “Goku,” he pleads, “Goku, no...wait...don’t go! DON’T LEAVE US, GOKU!”

Goku marches out from behind the counter, heedless of Vegeta’s anguished wailing, strides to the center lounge, kicks a stack of magazines from a low, circular table in the Chipper Chat & ChillⒸ Zone, and leaps atop it. Waves to Puar at the DJ station, and raises his hands as a triple volley of air horn sound effects blares throughout the shop. 

In the stuttering hush that descends, Goku calls out, “WOULD YOU PEOPLE LOOK AT YOURSELVES?!”

“Goddammit,” Raditz whimpers into Vegeta’s hair.

“Chums,” Goku pleads, “this isn’t Chipper! This isn’t Cheerful! This isn’t holiday! Don’t you see what’s happening? Can’t you see what you’re doing?” 

A portly gentleman in the crush by the front snaps, “I’m trying to get a fucking coffee!”

Goku flings a double-underline of athletic arms and emphatic palms toward the counter, hits the customer with a heartfelt, “And they’re trying to give it to you! Don’t you understand?” He looks around at the crowd, reminds them, “A lot of you are regulars here! You know these guys! They’re YOUR guys! And you’re their Chums! But you’re not acting very Chums right now, you’re acting like dicks!”

Vegeta slumps forward, rests his forehead in his hands with a massive sigh, and Raditz follows, keening against the top of Vegeta’s head.

Goku explains, “Okay...you may not know this, but these guys are corporate wage slaves—and I mean literally, it is only just barely technically not illegal, but I’m telling you, I’ve seen the paperwork, and it is fucked up. But you know what? They still come in here every day—EVERY DAY—and try to give you a good experience!”

A green-skinned guy swathed in black, with heavy eyeliner and skull-shaped beads stacked up his antennae quips, “What about the pointy one?”

Goku raises an eyebrow. “Vegeta?” Sweeps a puzzled gaze over the crowd. “I mean, he’s always been pretty cool.”

A woman in a festive sweatshirt with blinking lights fires back, “OH, NO HE HAS NOT!”

Vegeta lifts a weary gaze and heaves a deflated “Hey, I’m trying, okay?” over the counter.

Goku points out, “And I’ve seen some really good comments on the customer satisfaction survey cards, so it seems like that’s working out, huh?”

A throaty voice only a little like Bulma’s calls out, “Yo, he didn’t even yell at that dude who just said he was shitty!” from somewhere near her position in the throng.

Heads perk up in the crowd. A ripple of chatter begins anew, with more question marks than exclamation points.

Goku’s fingers flex as though preparing to fly across a whole fleet of blender buttons. His frame begins a subtle bounce on the balls of his feet as he calls out, louder, “And Raditz assistant manages the heck outta this place! If you were in literal corporate bondage, would you spend extra time keepin’ it fun?” He throws a wide shrug at the assembled patrons, inquires, “Who here hasn’t enjoyed at least one wild specialty drink at Chipper Cup?” Aims a finger into the mass of holiday shoppers, rings out, “You! You there! Bro with the phone!” 

Vegeta’s voice clamors, “Yeah, please stop filming this, Phone Bro,” just as Goku continues, with twinkling zeal, “Didn’t you show up like a hundred times for the Cotton-Eye Joe?”

“Yeah,” the man answers, with a wry twist of expression that slews the crisp shape of his goatee, “that thing was gross as fuck, dude.” 

Goku returns a wilding grin. “But it was funny. Right?”

The man pauses, wide-eyed. Then drops his head and slips his phone into the pocket of his down vest with a contrite, “...Yeah.”

“And you started that viral video challenge because of it!” Goku chimes into the space. Demands, “How many new followers did you get from that?” and immediately steams on, “This is what I’m saying, people! The guys at Chipper Cup don’t just serve it up hot, and chill, and smooth, and whipped, and steamy, and—”

Vegeta snaps, “Goku!”

Goku shouts, “They spread cheer!” 

A bouncy co-ed with tinsel worked into her nearly floor-length twists, and a parade of glitter dazzling above her wide, dark eyes squeals, “And that’s the true meaning of Christmas!”

Goku pauses. Considers. Responds, “Well...kinda. But NO!” He whirls toward a new zone of the sales flow floor set, his face a grim citadel. “The true meaning of Christmas is CORPORATE CONSUMERISM. For the people you love!” He pulls his fists against his chest, presses the shoppers with his earnest insistence, “And everybody out here loves those two handsome, hardworking baristas back there... So come on and start corporate consuming so we can save their Christmas!”

The shop erupts in a resonant clamor of cheering. 

Goku raises his arms aloft, commands, “Faithful ChumsⒸ of Chipper CupⒸ! Lend us your social media! Reach out deep...far into your networks! Give us your hashtags! Post your selfies! Take pictures of your beverages! Send them to EVERYONE YOU KNOW! Boost our signal, Chums! Raise our Chipper Cheer Championship ChartⒸ levels! Like to charge! REBLOG TO CAST!” Phone cameras strobe and dazzle like fireworks as he bellows, “FILL THIS COFFEE SHOP WITH HOLIDAY SPIRIT!”

“Oh shit,” Vegeta mutters, a sheen of sweat catching crystal chill from the open door. 

Raditz grips his shoulders briefly, fires a determined, “We can do this, we got this,” and marches to the counter. Gestures for Bulma, instructs, “Stay close for a sec.” Snags Goku by the front of his apron as he jogs back toward the smoothie station, proclaims, “If we pull this off, you son of a bitch, I have no idea what I’m gonna do, but until then, no more wild cards. You gotta do exactly what I say, got it?”

Goku beams back a snappy, “Yes, sir!”

Raditz sweeps an arm over the full team, “That goes for everybody! We’re about to get the holiday rush of the century up in here, ‘all hands on deck’ doesn’t even begin to cover it! But we’ve all put in too much work, and we’ve come too far, and we’re this close, we’re this close, and we’re not gonna give up! And let’s be real—that was a great speech, Goku, but it’s gonna get ugly in here, and we gotta keep ahead of it.” He shakes his head, lays down a grave, “There’s no backup coming. There’s no clocking out early. We’re not gettin’ out on time, we’re not gettin’ overtime, or holiday pay, or any of that. We’re down to the wire.” He decrees, “This is it. But we’re a team. We can do this.” 

Vegeta’s features settle from apprehensive tension to a kind of thoughtful admiration. “You...you really are a hell of an assistant manager, Raditz,” he affirms.

Raditz looks over the gathering throng with grim determination. Squares his shoulders and rumbles, “Not tonight.” He vaults over the counter and stands tall in front of the milling crowd. Declares, “Tonight...I’m gonna manage!”

[sawtastic-sideblog]

Peter walked through the crowded streets, avoiding getting run over by the hoardes of people. Christmas shoppers. He hated it. He finally reaches the small coffee shop and pulls open the door to be greeted by the warm smell of brewing coffee.

A few patrons scattered at tables around the shop. The usual people, a man and woman coming in for their daily coffee date, jut to get away from the office, another man with his crosswords book sitting in the corner, avoidng the feeling of lonlieness he's felt since his wife passed away, and a group of older ladies, all in their sixties and seventies, with the one token twenty something, with an alternative look of dark, gruge inspired clothing and purple hair, are at their usual booth.

"How are my favorite ladies doing today?" Peter asks as he pulls his scarf from around his neck.

"We're doing good. How are you, dear?" The woman closest to him asks. Her clouded blue eyes look up to find his. White curls frame her face and her light pink blouse is disheveled.

"I'm great, Gladys. Ready for all this Christmas shopping to be done. What are you making today?" Peter asks as Gladys holds up her work in progress she has been knitting for two weeks.

"My great grand baby's blanket. He's set to be here on Christmas day."

"How exciting. Let me go clock in and I'll get you some fresh drinks," Peter starts to turn away before something catches his eye. "And what are we crocheting today, Cal?"

"Alien headband," Cal says as she pushes strands of purple hair out of her face.

"Amazing," Peter smiles as he goes to clock in.

"What are you smiling about?" Amanda, Peter's best friend ans coworker asks.

"Cal and her creativity," Peter says, hanging his coat in his locker.

"Oh, her headband?"

"Yeah. Pops here?"

"In his office. Going over stuff with the new hire. He's training today," Amanda says as the bell on the door sounds.

"I'll grab it," Peter says and walks out of the breakroom to the counter. Amanda isn't far behind him, going to the ovens to pull out fresh pastries.

"Hi, Peter!" A small brunette girl all but yells when she spots the man.

"Hi, Corbett! Jeff, Lynn, how are you? The usual?"

"Yes, please," Jeff nods and pulls out his wallet to pay. Lynn holds out an envelope. Peter takes it.

"What's this?"

"A thank you from our family. We love you guys here, so Merry Christmas," Lynn says, looking at Peter expectantly. There's a sizable check in the envelope. Enough for Peter, Amanda, Pops, and the new guy to have a very merry Christmas indeed.

"Oh, wow, thank you guys, so much. I know tha-"

"There's more," Jeff says excitedly. Peter looks in the envelope again. A Christmas card.

"Happy Holidays from our family to yours! - The Denlons. Jeff, Lynn, Corbett, and Baby J'

Along with the family photo taken at DisneyWorld this past summer is a sonogram. Peter smiles wide as he rounds the counter to hug the couple. His heart swells with joy and pride at the thought of a new baby Denlon.

Three years ago Jeff and Lynn lost their son, Dylan. It left the family devastated. Lynn threw herself into her work at the hospital and Jeff started drinking and hunted down the man responsible for the accident. He never did anything to the guy. As far as any knows he just keeps tabs on the, now sober, medical student.

Corbett saw the change in her parents. The constant fighting, the quiet dinners, and the distant looks in their eyes told Corbett that things had changed. One day while the family was out and about, Jeff and Lynn were arguing and it was bad. Not wanting to hear it anymore, Corbett ran into the shop and hid under a table, crying. Pops found Corbett and talked to her.

She explained everything to him and he had Amanda give her a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. Pops went out to Jeff and Lynn and talked to them for a moment before he brought them inside where Peter got them Pops' Heartwarming Delight. A hot chocolate with two pumps of vanilla and a warm chocolate chip cookie. It's what his mom would make for him when he was young. Anytime he was upset, his mother would talk to him over the drink and cookie. Now when anyone is having a bad day and they walk into the shop, they are given the special on the house, if Pops spots them. Then he will sit down and chat with the person to make them feel better.

For the past year and a half the Denlons have been regulars, coming in once a week. Every Sunday at two. They quickly became friends to the shop and are great company. Peter has watched the family grow closer and heal each other from the loss of Dylan.

Pops appears behind the counter with the new hire trailing behind.

"What's all this?" Pops asks.

"I'm getting a baby brother!" Corbett shouts. Pops smiles proudly and rounds the counter with Amanda jumping across the counter to hug them first. A chorus of congratulations and from the regulars who know the family come up to express their happiness for the couple. Peter heads back to fix their drinks. A hot chocolate for Corbett, a chai tea for Lynn and a black coffee two sugars for Jeff.

"Hey, I'm Adam Standheight," the new guy says as he holds his hand out. Peter takes his hand and shakes it.

"Peter Strahm. Nice to meet you. Wanna watch how we make the drinks?"

"Sure."

Peter explains as he goes along, stopping to explain anything that may be confusing or that Adam has questions about. Once finished, the pair take the drinks to the family.

"Adam, meet Jeff, Lynn, and Corbett. They're some of our favorites here. Denlons this is Adam. He's our newest hire," John says.

"Hi," Adam greets as he hands Corbett her hot chocolate.

"Amanda told us you'd be joining the team. We included a little something for you in the gift we gave to the shop," Lynn says, giving Adam's shoulder a squeeze.

"Oh, thank you, ma'am."

"You're part of the family now, kid," Jeff says before turning to Pops and speaking in a hushed voice. Amanda and Lynn are talking quietly as Corbett is chatting with the ladies in the corner, the Old Bitty Commitee as they call themselves. Peter smiles and starts talking to Adam about what his duties are as a barista. The bell above the door chimes as someone enters. Peter looks up to see a man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes approaching the counter. Cheeks flushed from the cold and scarf full of snowflakes.

"Hi, Lawrence. Is it finally snowing again," Peter asks sarcastically.

"Weatherman didn't call for snow, so I don't see why it would. He's always right," Lawrence replies, looking over the pastries Amanda just put out.

"That's why I watch the girl on channel eight. She never lies," Peter quips.

"I suppose you're right. I should change channels or at least weatherpersons."

Peter laughs and goes to grab Lawrence's usual mocha latte with hazelnut. When he returns he finds Adam trying to open the pastry display. Lawrence is watching amused. Peter sets down the cup and walks to Adam, opening the case with ease.

"What's its gonna be?"

"Blueberry scone. Amanda makes the best."

"Thanks, Doc!" Amanda says as she and Corbett walk to the door, both bundled up for the weather. "We're going to the movies."

"Have fun!" Lawrence calls out before walking towards them. "Hey Corbett, why don't you and Amanda get some of that candy you told me about."

"Thank you, Doctor Gordon!" Corbett says as she takes the crisp clean twenty dollar bill from him.

"Blueberry scone coming right up," Peter says quickly grabbing it and ringing the total. "Any cool cases lately?"

"Six people in remission four of which are children. It's a Christmas miracle," Lawrence smiles warmly with a sparkle of joy.

"How wonderful, Lawrence," Pops says appearing behind Peter with a drink and cookie in his hand. "I want you to meet Adam. He's our newest team member. Adam, this is Lawrence Gordon. He's a doctor as well. He's also my oncologist."

"Nice to meet you, Adam," Lawrence says as he holds his hand out to shake Adam's. Adam takes his hand and his body tenses. When he pulls his hand back he gives a quiet 'excuse me' and runs off to the bathroom. Pops and Peter share a look before Pops spots someone walking in and excuses himself as well. Peter and Lawrence watch as the newcomer sits across from Lynn and Jeff at their usual booth. Pops sets down a drink and cookie. With a pat to the man's shoulder and a nod, Pops is walking back around the counter.

"That's Timothy."

With that, Pops walks to the kitchen. Lawrence and Peter look at each other with concern written on ther faces.

"Sorry about running off. Just got hit with the need to pee," Adam says and he walks back up. Lawrence chuckles into his cup as he walks over to the Old Bitty Commitee. Peter looks at Adam and sees his face red with embarrassment.

"You good?"

"Yeah, he's just, uh, he's just," Adam trails off and squeezes his eyes shut. "He's really good looking and I embarrassed myself infront of him."

Peter chuckles and shakes his head, reassuring Adam that everything will be okay. He starts wiping down the counter when crocheted yarn appears in his view. He looks up to find Cal looking at him, the dark eye makeup making her green eyes pop.

"What can I do for you, Miss Cal?"

"Did Amanda make any peach scones?"

"I don't think so but I can put the order in for tomorrow."

"Please? Also Merry Christmas," Cal pushes the yarn towards Peter, her anxiety picked fingers tap the counter in excitement. Peter picks it up and it unfurls to reveal that it is a scarf. Various shades of a darker blue with heather gray lines between each shade and as the border. Peter stares in slight disbelief.

"You made this for me?"

"Yeah. You've had the same scarf for as long as I've known you. That was what? Almost seven years ago now?"

Had it been that long? Peter remembers back to the first time he met Cal. She had moved here for college and was having a very rough day with school and finding a job. Pops gave her the Heartwarming Delight and talked things over with her. By the end of the conversation she had a job here. She loved it so much that when she's off she would come in to do homework. She quit a couple of months back for a job that goes along with what she studied at school. She still comes in every day on her way to work and every Sunday morning from open to close with the Old Bitty Commitee.

Peter smiles and thanks her and grabs her a blueberry scone. He then starts showing Adam around the back, how to properly clean things, and how to make certain drinks as customers come in.

A couple of hours later Amanda is back helping Peter and Adam clean for the night. The Denlons and Timothy still talking as Gladys attempts to teach Corbett to knit, Lawrence is still reading his book in the corner, and the other patrons have gone. The bell sounds and Peter goes to the front.

"Hi, welcome to Kramer Coffee Shop where you feel better leaving than you did coming in. I'm Peter. What can I get started for you?"

"I'll have a black coffee and a cinnamon roll, thanks," the man responds, eyeing Peter up and down.

"Sure and can I get a name for it?"

"Mark."

"Four thirty six."

"That's cheap."

"Yeah, Pops and his mom opened this place like forty years ago. Prices haven't really changed. Pops says we get enough traffic to stay open. Plus our regulars give us donations from time to time. They're that grateful to Pops."

"Oh yeah? He that good at talking ot something?" Mark's pouty lips turn into a smirk and his blue eyes shine with a mix of amusement and sadness. Peter nods.

"I can get him if you'd like. He just walked back to the kitchen."

"No, it's okay. I don't need a talk. Just my coffee and roll."

"If you say so," Peter says unsure. He goes to the kitchen to grab coffee beans. "Hey, Pops, there's this guy that just came in. He says he doesn't wanna talk but he has sad eyes. Like the ones you told us to watch out for."

"What's his order?"

"Black coffee and a cinnamon roll. His name is Mark."

Pops nods and takes the beans from Peter. Amanda walks over to the whiteboard set up for tomorrow's pastries.

"Any requests?"

"Peach scones for Cal, chocolate muffins for me, and Lynn was wondering if you could do anything lemon."

"Yeah, I talked to her. We decided on lemon poppyseed muffins and the lemon square cake things you liked so much at Jill's birthday."

"Who's Jill?" Adam asks.

"That would be me," the blonde woman says from the kitchen door. "I saw John with some guy that looks like he hates the world right now, so I thought I'd come see how you were getting along."

"Nice to see you," Peter says giving Jill a hug. Amanda follows his actions and Adam gives an awkward wave. They talk a few minutes, it's mainly Jill asking Adam questions and Adam stuttering to answer. Peter laughs and goes to say goodbye to the regulars and take the orders of a few more stragglers before shutting down.

Pops is still with Mark and everyone knows it's better not to interrupt. Amanda sweeps, Adam mops, Jill wipes down the tables, and Peter cleans the glass case and starts bagging up the pastries in six paper bags. One for each person here, including Mark. Jill walks over to count the till.

"What's his deal?"

"No clue, but he said he didn't need to talk. It's been almost an hour."

At that moment Pops stands with Mark and shakes his hand.

"Come get a bag. We don't let things go to waste here and if you're here after closing, you get a bag. Amanda makes the pastries," Pops says as he leads Mark towards the counter and motions towards Amanda.

"The cinnamon rolls are amazing. Where did you learn to bake?"

"Thank you and it was actually Pops' mom. They kind of took me in when I was being a stupid kid and my mom threw me out. They got my back on that good old straight and narrow."

Peter was waking to clean the last table as Amanda spoke and was lost in his thoughts until someone knocked on the table. He looks up to see Pops.

"He needs a friend. Be that for him," Pops says quietly. Peter nods and walks to clock out. Minutes later everyone is ready to walk out the door. "I do hope you come back, Mark."

"I think I will. Thank you, Pops. You've got a great crew. Handsome too," Mark says winking at Peter, who tilts hisbhad slightly in confusion.

"That I do," Pops says as he locks the door. Everyone says their goodnights and go their separate ways. Adam, Amanda, and Peter start walking towards the parking lot off to the side as Jill and Pops make their way across the street. Mark follows the trio.

"Jeff said that the talk with Timothy went well. They talked though a lot of stuff. He obviously didn't go into specifics, but they agreed to meet again next week and talk more. I think with Corbett this time," Amanda says.

"That's good. I hope everything goes okay," Peter says as they reach the parking lot. Adam splits off from the three walking towards the remaining cars.

"Sweet ride," Amanda says as Adam swings his leg over a motorcycle.

"Thanks. Fixed her up myself and she runs like new," Adam responds as he lifts his helmet above his head and setting it on top of his head as a crown.

"You fixed her up?" Mark asks and Adam nods. The two talk about the mechanical stuff as Amanda and Peter stand there feeling very left out.

"Well, I'm gonna get home. Got a goldfish to feed, pizza to eat, and Netflix to watch," Adam says to the group.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow?" Peter asks and Adam nods again. "Lawrence should come in around eight thirty tomorrow if you wanna come in and take his order."

"I'm not a person before four," Adam says, cheeks flaming again.

"Ooh, does someone have a little crush?" Amanda teases poking at Adam's shoulder he groans, pushes the helmet on his head, and starts his motorcycle. He carefully backs outs and waves as he takes off. Amanda and Peter laugh and Amanda gets her car. "Drive safe, Peter. Goodnight."

"Night, Mands."

Peter watches silently as Amanda backs out and drives a little ways in the parking lot, making it obvious that she's watching out for her friend. Peter shakes his head and turns toward Mark.

"Can I help you?"

"Maybe."

"With?"

Mark walks up to Peter and leans in close to his ear. Peter's heart is racing. What is this man going to do? Peter notices that Mark smells good, too good. The warmth from his body is inviting and Peter wants nothing more than to step closer to hide away from the cold.

"I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. You give me your phone number and I give you mine."

Peter's eyes widen and he steps away from Mark while saying, "I don't know you. I'm not comfortable with that."

"How do you expect me to shamelessly flirt with you all night when I don’t have your number yet?"

"I don't?"

"Well, you should."

"Why?"

"You're a very attractive man, Peter, and I find myself incredibly attracted and infatuated by you. I will be pursuing you. But if you say the word, I will stop."

When Peter is silent, Mark takes his gloved hand and gives it a quick, light kiss. He mumbles a goodnight and turns to walk down the street. Peter is stunned as he watches the man disappear behind a building.

"What just happened?"

[sweetladymoon]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Les Misérables - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables) Characters: Enjolras (Les Misérables), Grantaire (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac (Les Misérables) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas, Fluff, Romance, Co-workers, silly fluff not a trace of angst in sight, Mistletoe, Enjolras just tries to make it through his shift and somehow ends up with a boyfriend, Enjolras hates all things Christmas but can you blame him, I would too if I had to work in customer service, featuring Jean Valjean's Christmas playlist filled with bops Summary:

“If that isn’t my favourite co-worker!” rings a chipper voice through the vacant café.

“Grantaire,” he replies flatly.

“Have you missed me?”

“Sure. I was barely able to handle this place on my own.”

“I can imagine,” Grantaire huffs while looking around. There’s only one other person around after all. A guy that was already there even before Enjolras came in and has been looking at his laptop with a panicked expression for the last 30 minutes.

Grantaire pulls his apron over his head and let’s his eyes wander over to Enjolras “Man, I hate working evening shifts”.

-

Or, Enjolras just tries to make it through his shift but somehow he can't seem to take his eyes off of a certain co-worker.

[uncleasad]

From time to time I find myself watching those saccharine romcoms on Hallmark and similar channels while I’m making dinner or baking or the like—and they’re enjoyable, in a formulaic, sometimes-contrived, heteronormative, WASPy way (which is deeply, deeply problematic in 2023, yes). Often they’re even good for getting my writing juices going…

Tonight I was watching one which had a scene where impulsive girlfriend (and token person of color) of the male lead and pining best friend of the male lead walk into a coffee shop after doing some impromptu Christmas Eve day shopping, and impulsive girlfriend (who’s from out of town and is out of her element in more ways than one) doesn’t know what to order for herself and male lead. The barista (even more token person of color) suggests a drink, likely the seasonal special/favorite (“I bet I know what you’re looking for…the peppermint latte”), and the expression on her face is a bit inscrutable—is it mocking, is it sympathetic…or is it flirting?

Because the way my brain read it, sassy barista is flirting with out-of-her element impulsive girlfriend…and that would have been a great twist, because (spoiler alert! 😂) impulsive girlfriend does not get the guy, and rather than her flying home alone on Christmas Eve(!) mildly disappointed but completely understanding(!!!), it would have been nice for impulsive girlfriend to end up with someone. Plus, the actress playing sassy barista really brought it and made an impression with her two lines and facial expressions.

I really want to see this kind of coffee shop AU! I don’t have a Hosie angle, but maybe if I forget the love triangle-esque part and focus more on the “two girls walk into a coffee shop” part? Dunno. The idea that the out-of-her-element woman is (unexpectedly) bi is most of what makes the twist interesting…

Oh! Maybe Jo and Lizzie are both in love with MG, and Hope’s the sassy barista? Or maybe Raf instead of MG (though I’m not sure anyone believes Lizzie and Raf were meant to be). If we want Jo to be the sassy barista, it could also be Hope and Lizzie in love with Raf—or Ethan, for that matter—since we’re already stretching canon crushes/infatuations to the breaking point here 😂 See, just give my mind a minute and it will eventually work something out. Still pretty rough, but at least some possibilities now.

November 12, 2023

[familyvideostevie]

day after tomorrow

joel miller x reader

summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 

warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k

A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3

___

He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 

"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 

Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 

"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.

The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 

"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 

"You remembered?" 

He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."

It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.

"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."

This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 

The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 

"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 

You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 

Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.

"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.

"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."

"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"

He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.

"I'll be fine, Joel."

"Hm."

He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.

"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 

He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."

"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 

He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"

You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 

It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  

"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 

When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 

"Thank you for --"

"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 

You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"

His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 

"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."

"Thanks for the tea --"

"Now, what did I just say?"

You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 

"Safe flight, sweetheart."

You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 

6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?

You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 

6:05 am: don't text and drive!

He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 

6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land

6:06 am: will do. have a good day!

The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 

You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 

"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.

That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 

And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 

But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 

7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?

He texts back immediately. 

7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.

You laugh and do as he says. 

The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 

You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 

But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.

10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim

That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 

You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!

And then there's Joel.

Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 

It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.

"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 

"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."

"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 

"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."

Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 

Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 

"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 

"You hungry?"

"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"

"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."

"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"

Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 

"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.

You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 

Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.

"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 

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