warnings/genre: major fluff, majorangst, smut eventually I’m sure because of my thirsty ass
summary: You swear that your job sucks, except for the guy who keeps coming in every morning to order himself a black coffee, and his kid a strawberry milk and chocolate muffin. When you and Taehyung have an awkward run-in at the cafe thanks to his kid, feelings start to emerge and so do the secrets.
The day he started coming in was almost a year ago, big hand gripping little hand as he dragged who you assumed to be his son, through the crowd of people at the door and weaving through the occupied tables.
He stood in front of the register, holding the kid in one arm and pointing to the menu with his other. “The regular one? Or-oh, you want the strawberry one? One strawberry milk, please. Oh, and a coffee - black, and, Taeji, do you want the blueberry or chocolate muffin?”
Your coworker, a frumpy, grouchy old woman, took the father and son’s order before monotonously repeating the total and barking at you to get the order together. You watched curiously as the duo stood in front of the pick-up counter, the little boy grabbing onto his dad’s hair and giggling. They shared the same nose, and boxy smile, and it made you smile at how sweet the image was.
You set down the order - the coffee, the strawberry milk with a fun, plastic bendy straw and the chocolate muffin the little boy had decided on. “Oh, say thank you Taeji.” The man said, looking up at you and nodding his thanks while handing the package to his son and grabbing both drinks. You stood behind the counter, wondering if you should have offered to help carry the drinks, but watched silently as he put Taeji down in a booth and sat across from him. He stared at the little boy with such intensity you thought he might burst.
The kid’s dad sat back, running his hands through his hair. If you could see stress, this man was radiating it and you could feel it from across the cafe. He looked on at the kid while he happily sat on his knees, muffin stuffed in his mouth and crumbs all over the table you know you’d be cleaning up later. The little boy looked happy, so what was the problem?
Snowy days in Paris were a sight to behold. Gray skies, centuries old buildings and landmarks covered in fresh coats of white, cafes and bakeries drawing entire families in with the promise of hot drinks and warm pastries.
Once upon a time, the snow brought sadness to many Parisians. They went about their days in solemn remembrance of a boy who had put himself in harm’s way to ensure their peace and safety. By the time the snow melted, the statue in the memorial park dedicated to him would be surrounded by flower bouquets.
But on the thirteenth winter after the fateful building collapse, there was no sadness. The snow-covered Champ de Mars was as crowded as ever. Children shrieked and laughed, tourists and photographers attempted to get that perfect shot of the Eiffel Tower, and curious onlookers smiled as Ladybug and Chat Noir, the heroes of Paris, chased each other through the trees.
Imagine: can you write a peter parker imagine where you two are enemies in school, you two hate eachother and you see him everyday in and out of school because his parents are best friends with your parents. one day when you get home they call you and peter in and force you to two to go on a date, you just suck it up and go on it. as you went on the date, you two actually had a lot in common and at the end you two liked eachother. thanks! love ur writing ♥
A/N: thanks nonny! ♥
The teacher was blabbering about his usual lesson, it sometimes felt like it was the same lesson over and over everyday. You sat there, scribbling on the desk with your pencil, you were bored out of your mind, there was absolutely nothing to do. You were always bored as usual, mostly in science class, your least favorite place to be. And the subject wasn’t the reason you hated that class, it was your enemy, Peter Parker. As you were scribbling on the desk you suddenly feel something get shot at your head, and it was sticky.
You turn around, soon seeing a smirking Peter with a straw placed in his hand. You got out the thing in your hair, it a spitball. You were absolutely disgusted that you just touched something that came out of Peter’s mouth. Ew.
“Stop it.” you scowled, turning back around.
A few minutes passed, than another spitball came flying into your hair again.
me: jeongcheol’s dead, there’s been absolutely nothing for the past few weeks, everybody can go home, find another ship, the tag is drier than the sahara desert, jeongcheol is old news and a new ship will rise, they dead-