#cafe au

THE BELL ABOVE your café door jingled, and morning light filtered through the wide windows. You adjusted your apron, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread already filling the air.

Your café wasn’t huge—just a modest spot tucked between a laundromat and a bookstore—but somehow, it had become a crossroads for all sorts of people in Robloxia.

The first customer of the day was always predictable. Guest 1337 stepped inside, tall frame immediately noticeable, spiky blue hair catching in the sunlight.

He greeted you with an easy smile, a little naive in how warmly he treated everyone, even at this early hour.

“Morning,” you said, sliding a mug of his usual across the counter before he could even ask.

“You always know what I need,” he chuckled, earnest gratitude shining in his pale face.

“Thanks. Daisy’s meeting me later, but I thought I’d drop by early. Feels wrong to start the day without coffee here.”

He settled by the window, posture straight and alert like someone who couldn’t quite shake the soldier out of himself, even while sipping something warm and sweet.

Not long after, the bell jingled again. A shuffle of feathers accompanied the entrance of Taph.

His dark wings trailed just enough to leave stray golden-tipped feathers behind, and you had to suppress a smile when he cooed softly at the smell of fresh pastries.

He tilts his head when you waved, eyes glinting mischievously.

You placed a plated croissant on the counter. Taph padded over silently, tapping the wood once as if to thank you, before tucking into the food with obvious delight.

He seats near Guest, giving him a kind stare. Guest laughed quietly, “You never change, huh?”

The cafe grew livelier by the minute.

The door opened wide to admit a man with messy brown hair and tired eyes, his burger hat slightly tilted. 007n7 gave a weary smile, glasses sliding down his nose.

“Coffee. Black. Please,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing how heavy his footsteps sounded.

“Yeah. Just… mornings,” he said, voice soft but tinged with regret. He accepted the mug gratefully, sinking into a seat in the corner, glancing out the window like he was watching memories pass by.

You were cleaning up near the cash register when a familiar red visor peeked through the door.

Elliot bounded in with the kind of energy only someone who had balanced countless deliveries could have.

“Smells amazing, as always!” he said, grinning as he slid a few coins onto the counter.

“Can I get some slices boxed? Got friends to check in on later.”

“You got it,” you replied, packing his order quickly.

His kindness radiated in the way he leaned on the counter to chat, asking if you’d eaten breakfast yet before leaving a generous tip.

The bell rang again—this time, louder, as Builderman himself ducked in. Light grey hair tied neatly, his chubby frame carried an aura of both authority and warmth. He nodded once in greeting.

“Straight black coffee,” he grumbled, though his eyes softened as you poured him a cup. “I'm planning to have HQ to build a cafe in the building, you wanna apply? Your coffee is one of the best I've had..”

It was his way of being kind—wrapped in gruffness but meant sincerely. He sipped slowly, gaze sweeping the café as though he were checking the structure itself to get inspiration.

The calm broke when the door slammed open.

Chains clinked, and the presence of 1x1x1x1 seemed to dim the air a little.

White hair tied back, red eyes sharp and unreadable, their clothes brushing the floor as she strode inside.

A hush fell, but you didn’t flinch. You simply handed them him the usual—the sweetest coffee you have in a to-go cup.

“Still… coming here,” you said lightly, meeting their gaze.

They frowned faintly, zipper-like mouth shifting as they muttered, “Your food is tolerable.”

By the time you were supposed to eat, Mayor Thaniyel made his way inside, cane tapping gently. His sad eyes lifted when he saw you, lips curving into a small smile.

“Afternoon, I hope I don't bother,” he said, voice raspy with age but polite. You guided him to a table and set down tea before he could ask.

Not long after, another presence burst in like a storm. Griefer swaggered through the doorway, white hair hidden under a black cap. His red eyes glinted with annoyance as he threw his voice across the café:

“I5 MY USU4L RE4DY Y3T?!”

“Brad,” the Mayor sighed, shaking his head.

Griefer scoffed but lingered near his father anyway, pretending not to care even as he made sure the old man’s tea was steady.

His sharp grin softened for just a moment when their eyes met, though he quickly turned away.

The rest of your break unfolded in chatter filling the air, and the mix of personalities blending together in an oddly comforting way.

Guest 1337 told stories from his service days, idealistic and corny but sincere. Taph perking up at the sound of the bell each time the door opened, and even 1x1x1x1 sat quietly, sipping their secretly sweet coffee in peace.

The café had quieted a little after the morning.

Guest 1337 had left since Daisy needed help with groceries, and Taph had gone off to continue working.

The bell jingled now and then with casual customers, but you could tell the lull wouldn’t last long.

You were right.

The door swung open and in walked someone who commanded attention without even trying.

Chance. Tall, pale, with hair and skin both the same cool shade of light grey.

His black fedora cast a shadow over the shades he never seemed to take off, the faint ticking of his clockwork headphones audible when he brushed past.

His suit and tie were immaculate, his belt polished, every inch of him screaming “confidence.”

But you’d worked in this café long enough to recognize when confidence was a performance.

“Black coffee. Strongest you’ve got,” Chance said smoothly, striking a pose as he leaned one elbow against the counter, as if he were in some smoky old lounge instead of your bright café.

You chuckle as you poured the coffee and slid it to him. “Here you go.”

He gave you a grin, cocky and perfectly practiced. “You always take care of me.”

He sipped it, keeping his composure, but you noticed the faintest hesitation in the way his hand trembled when he set the cup down.

You notice that he drinks black coffee to ‘fit in’. You won't pry into something your customer covers up.

You let out a soft sigh and shifted your weight, your legs aching from standing in one spot for so long.

The café had gone quiet, sunlight stretching across empty tables, and the stillness only made you notice the dull pull in your calves more.

With no new customers walking in, you finally let yourself drift toward the prep counter.

Your stomach reminded you it was already lunch—hours since you’d last eaten—and the thought of something warm and simple felt like the best way to fill the silence.

You finally stepped away from the counter, your legs grateful for even a small change of pace.

The café was quiet enough to hear the faint hum of the fridge and the ticking of the wall clock.

At the prep station, you pulled a bagel from the basket, split it in half, and slipped it into the toaster. The familiar click and low whirr filled the still air.

While the bagel warmed, you reached for a mug and poured yourself a coffee, the comforting aroma quickly spreading through the space.

Steam curled upward, drifting lazily toward the ceiling.

The toaster gave a soft pop, and you retrieved the golden halves, their warmth seeping into your palms before you set them onto a plate.

With a quiet breath, you carried both to the counter, the café still calm around you, as though the world had decided to pause long enough to let you have this moment.

Not long after, the bell chimed. This time, a taller figure ducked through the door. Mafioso.

His yellow skin and hair made him stand out immediately, though the faint scars across his face and hands told the real story.

His black fedora mirrored Chance’s, but where Chance played at charm, Mafioso radiated authority with a cold, distant calm.

He scanned the café once, eyes lingering briefly on Chance before approaching you.

“Espresso,” he said curtly. Then, softer, almost sheepish, “And… do you still have that carrot cake?”

You smiled, plating a slice. Mafioso’s aloofness cracked for just a moment as his eyes lit up, the faintest warmth breaking through his stern demeanor.

He took the cake with surprising care, muttering a quiet, “Thanks,” before settling at a corner table.

His phone buzzed constantly, but you noticed him scrolling through pictures of rabbits between messages, his hardened mask breaking whenever one of the tiny creatures appeared.

The energy shifted again when Kyoko arrived.

Brown-skinned, freckles dotting her cheeks, her brown hair tucked under a magenta beanie.

She rolled a dark purple suitcase behind her, its wheels clicking cheerfully across the tile.

“Hi!” she greeted, her overbite flashing as she grinned at you.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! Can I get a hot chocolate and… oh, do you have anything sweet? Something I can eat while I plan my next trip.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, filling the café with light as she plopped down by the window, flipping open a notebook covered in travel stickers.

She hummed to herself while jotting notes, occasionally leaning over to try and chat with Mafioso, who in turn had only gave slight nods.

As dusk starts to settle outside, the café took on a cozy glow. The first guest of the evening arrived with a presence both eerie and poetic.

Dusekkar stepped through the door. Pale skin, head a dark blue pumpkin aflame with orange light from within.

Black antlers curled upward, their silhouette imposing, but his stride was calm.

The murmurs in the café hushed for a beat before resuming, everyone half in awe.

He approached the counter, his voice carrying in rhythmic rhyme:

“A cup of tea, if you don’t mind, to soothe the fire within my mind.”

You nodded, preparing the tea before serving it.

He accepted it with a careful bow of his antlered head before retreating to a quiet corner, the soft glow from his pumpkin face casting long shadows on the wall.

Your mental checklist of regulars—Red, Blue, and Noobador—nagged at you. None of them had shown up in days, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were alright.

You drifted into a quiet trance, eyes fixed on the buildings across the street, the silence pressing in around you. The sudden chime of the café door snapped you back, the hinges creaking as it swung open.

You glanced up from behind the counter, towel still in hand, to see two figures step inside.

They were close together, shoulders brushing as though gravity itself had linked them.

Azure was the first to approach the counter, his expression warm, his tone calm as he greeted you.

“Afternoon,” he said gently, offering the sort of smile that immediately softened the air. “You’ve been busy already, haven’t you? Smells incredible in here.”

Two Time leaned against the counter beside them, eyes flicking between the pastries in the glass case and the menu board overhead.

Their grin widened as they nudged Azure lightly with an elbow. “We shall invite them to join our cause! The Spawn will be pleased to gain another follower!”

Azure chuckled, a sound low and unhurried. He tilted their head toward Two Time, playfully brushing his hand against theirs. “Maybe not now, Two Time. You might scare them.”

“Mmhm,” Two Time hummed, pretending to squint at him before looking back at you with that same smile. “Do consider my offer to join the Spawn! We'll be pleased to have you!”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at their banter. “What can I get started for you both?”

Two Time immediately leaned forward—smile widening (if it's even possible), finger tapping against the glass. “That cinnamon roll. The biggest one you’ve got. And a caramel latte, extra caramel.”

Azure laughed again, softly shaking their head at the order before placing their own.

“And for me, just a chamomile tea. Something simple.”

As you punched their order into the register, Azure slid the payment across the counter without hesitation before going to take a seat.

Two time smiles before they remark, “Your pastry is delectable. Only one that can the Spawn approves of.”

Two Time drummed their fingers impatiently, but their expression betrayed nothing but affection when they glanced back at Azure.

“Happy to be here with you,” they murmured, their voice low—meant for Azure, though you caught the faint edge of it too.

The little exchange made the café feel warmer than it already was, as though the two of them carried their own glow with them—gentle, teasing, and entirely wrapped up in each other.

The low murmur of conversation had settled after they moved to a table in the far corner.

You’d just finished wiping down the counter for the nth time when the bell above the door gave another soft chime.

Two familiar figures stepped inside.

Guest 666 was the first to step inside, head tilted down beneath their black cap, pale hands buried deep in their pockets.

Their presence drew a quiet ripple through the room, though they didn’t seem to notice.

Noob followed close behind, giving you a small wave before jogging a few steps to catch up with them.

“Hey,” Noob greeted, coming right up to the counter.

“I’ll get one of those choco-caramel slices please and uhh.. and a latte too.” They glanced back at their companion.

“And for them—a choco-caramel cake too! Extra caramel, if you can swing it.”

Guest 666 didn’t speak, but the faintest shift of weight at their side made Noob grin like they’d been answered anyway.

They leaned an elbow on the counter, lowering their voice in a way only someone who knew them would notice. “That’s good, right, Sixer?”

A quiet snicker left Guest’s mouth—barely there, but enough.

“Knew it.” Noob’s grin widened.

You rang the order through, and when the tray was set out, Guest 666 reached for it right away, fingers steady even if their shoulders weren’t.

Noob gave you a quick “Thanks!” before following them toward a booth by the window.

They slid into their seats, Noob across from Guest 666, immediately busying themself with eating the cake.

Guest 666 set the tray down carefully, their hand lingering on the handle of their spoon.

“This place just does it right,” Noob said as they shook out a napkin and dug into their food.

“Dunno how, but it’s better here than anywhere else.” They took a bite, cheeks puffed out for a moment before swallowing. “Swear they put something in it.”

Guest 666 then slowly eats their cake, trying to savor every last bite—but the portion size was not enough.

Noob raised their brows. “Good, huh?” Their voice softened, more knowing than teasing. “Told you.”

Noob reached for one of their own cakes, pushing them to 6’s side, then paused before sliding another one.

“Go ahead. Don’t play like you don’t want it. You always eye the caramel swirl.”

Guest 666’s hand moved, resting near the plate. A faint twitch of their fingers traced along the edge.

Noob caught it and smiled, small this time.

“See? You don’t even gotta say anything.” They pushed the fork closer, nudging the plate his way. “I’ll share.”

For a moment, Guest 666 stayed still, their pale cheek just barely visible beneath the shadow of their cap.

Then they shifted, dragging the plate an inch closer with the edge of a knuckle.

Noob laughed under their breath, quiet and warm. “Yeah, figured.” They leaned back in their seat, stretching their arms overhead.

With no one else around, their voices carried easily across the café.

You tried not to eavesdrop, but it was hard to ignore when the silence left only them to fill it.

Noob’s words came in a steady stream, their tone bright but not overbearing, sprinkled with little pauses where they’d glance at 6 as if checking for approval.

Sometimes, they’d laugh softly at their own joke, and though 6 never spoke, the low snickers that slipped past his throat were enough to keep the rhythm going.

The sound of them—light chatter and rougher laughter—settled into the corners of the room, easing the stillness.

It wasn’t loud or disruptive, just present, a small reminder that even in an almost-empty café, the air didn’t have to feel so heavy.

You caught yourself smiling faintly as you wiped down a clean cup, realizing their voices made the place feel lived-in, almost warm.

When the last crumbs of cake were gone, Noob gave you a cheerful wave before tugging 6 toward the door, the café falling quiet again as the bell chimed behind them.

With only the hum of the ceiling fan and the faint smell of roasted beans lingering in the air, you started to absentmindedly wiping down the counter, stacking cups neatly and tucking stray sugar packets back into their holder.

The bell above the café door jingled, and you almost didn’t look up—you’d been lost in the rhythm of wiping down tables and reorganizing napkin holders, thinking about how quiet things had been lately.

But when you lifted your head, three familiar faces stood framed in the doorway, and your chest gave a small leap.

“Hello!!” Red’s voice cut across the empty café like a burst of sunlight. He waved both arms in wide arcs, as though afraid you hadn’t noticed him already.

Just behind him, Blue raised one hand in a gentler wave, lips pulling into a shy smile that carried the same warmth, only quieter.

Trailing after them was Noobador, shoulders set but eyes bright, as though the weight he carried had shifted into something steadier, more hopeful.

He walked up to the counter with the ease of someone who belonged here, slipping cash from his pocket as the kids crowded at his sides.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t come in the last few days,” he said, his voice a little tired but threaded with relief. “I just… finally gained custody over Red and Blue.”

You blinked, stunned for a heartbeat before the words sank in. Then warmth bubbled up, uncontainable. “Oh my—really? Congratulations!”

Red bounced on his toes, tugging Blue’s sleeve as though to make the announcement louder, bigger, while Blue looked down at her sneakers, though the corners of her mouth betrayed the faintest smile.

Noobador set the bills on the counter, nodding toward the kids. “They’ve been waiting for this. Go ahead, order whatever you like,” he said to them, then glanced back at you with something that looked almost like gratitude.

But before he could push the money forward, you held up both hands. “No, no. Keep it. Consider this on the house—as a congratulations gift.”

His brows furrowed, the doubt in his expression almost comical against his steady tone.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to cut back on losses. You’ve been kind enough to us already, I’d feel better—”

“I insist,” you said firmly, cutting him off with a smile that brooked no argument. “This one’s mine to give.”

He paused, studying you in that curious way he sometimes had, like he was trying to weigh the truth in your words. Eventually, his shoulders eased, and he nodded. “Then… thank you.”

The moment was punctuated by Red and Blue suddenly breaking into bright cheers, their voices overlapping as they turned back toward you. “Thank you!!”

Blue’s voice was quieter, steadier, but the sparkle in his eyes matched Red’s wide grin. They leaned into each other for half a second before hurrying to decide what they wanted.

“I want the chocolate chip cookie! The biggest one you’ve got,” Red declared immediately, pressing his hands to the counter as though you might run out in the next second.

“And—oh! Can I have hot chocolate too? With marshmallows? Please?”

“Of course,” you said warmly, jotting it down even though you already knew you’d remember.

Blue, ever the thinker, scanned the display case for longer, eyes flicking between muffins, slices of cake, and the jars of biscotti lined neatly by the register. Finally, she spoke softly, “I’ll the lemon muffin. And maybe… some hot chocolate. The kind you made last time. It was good.”

“Got it,” you assured her, offering a small nod that made hes smile widen just a fraction more.

While you moved to prepare their orders, Noobador lingered at the counter.

His hand rested on the polished wood, fingers tapping idly, though his gaze was fixed on the kids now bouncing between tables, Red chattering nonstop about which booth was the “lucky one” and Blue quietly steering him toward a spot near the window.

“They’ve been through a lot,” he said after a pause, voice quiet enough that it was meant for you alone.

“But I think… this time, we’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

There was something unshakable in his tone, a vow more than a statement, and you caught the faintest edge of pride there too.

Carrying over the tray of drinks and snacks, you watched as the children scrambled into their seats.

Red had already claimed the booth with a triumphant, “This one’s perfect!” while Blue slipped in beside him, shaking her head but smiling as though she’d expected nothing less.

When you set the plates down, Red immediately tore into his cookie, crumbs scattering onto the table.

Blue unwrapped her muffin with careful precision, almost ceremonious.

“See?” Red mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. “Best café. Ever.”

Blue nudged him gently with her elbow, murmuring, “Red, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Still, her own voice held laughter.

Noobador settled across from them, finally allowing himself to exhale, and for a moment the café felt fuller, brighter, more alive.

The kids’ chatter—Red’s loud declarations about how many marshmallows floated in his cup, Blue’s quieter remarks about school and books—blended into a rhythm that warmed the quiet corners of the shop.

From behind the counter, you found yourself smiling without meaning to.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed them until now, their presence filling up the space with something beyond just noise.

It was the easy comfort of family—the kind patched together after struggle, the kind that carried both weight and joy.

Noobador caught your eye once, raising his cup of plain coffee in a quiet salute. You lifted your own mug in return, wordless but understood.

They lingered for a while, wrapped up in their own little world, and you chose not to intrude—just letting their family moment unfold until, at last, they gathered their things and prepared to head to the door but not before saying their goodbye.

“Bye Mx. [Name]!” Red waves, rushing to the door.

“R—Red..! Slow down! Bye!” Blue also waves to you as she rushes to her brother.

“Goodbye you two!” You chuckled at the two children who banters outside your cafe.

Noobador just sighs and mutters about something and smiles, “Thank you again, we'll come back soon.” He bids farewell as the bell rang signaling their depart.

It was almost closing. Almost.

The bell jingled again.

You turned, rag in hand, to see a tall, round figure framed in the doorway. Shedletsky. His brown hair was a little mussed, his yellow skin catching the last of the streetlamp glow outside.

His shirt blared its famous slogan—BLAME JOHN in bold letters and his shorts that look like swim trunks looked as though he’d walked straight off some beach years ago and hadn’t changed since.

For a moment, he looked sheepish. “I thought I got here on time before closing…” His tone dipped into something almost defeated as he turned halfway back toward the night.

“Ah—! Wait!” you called, setting the rag down quickly. “It’s not closing yet. I’m just cleaning up, that’s all.”

He paused, then slowly pivoted back with a grin that was half relief, half mischief.

“Now that’s good news. You almost had me pulling a dramatic retreat.”

The door swung shut with a soft thud as he walked toward the counter. Up close, he seemed both silly and imposing, his frame broad, his presence omnipotent.

You couldn’t help but notice the faint shifting under his shirt, as though something—feathers (? was tucked carefully out of sight.

He leaned against the counter with practiced ease, eyes flicking over the menu.

“So,” he began, tilting his head like a curious bird, “tell me is your coffee strong enough to wake the dead, or is it more of a ‘gentle nudge back into consciousness’ kind of deal?”

You laughed lightly. “Depends which roast you order. The dark blend? That one could probably revive someone mid-faint. The light roast’s more forgiving.”

“Ha! Forgiving coffee, I like that!” He tapped the counter with one finger.

“Give me a large dark roast, then. If I keel over from the shock, at least I’ll know you weren’t lying.”

As you moved to prepare it, he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“And maybe… one of those blueberry muffins too. Before someone else gets to it. I swear muffins know when I’m coming for them, they disappear first.”

You pulled a muffin from the display and set it aside, smiling at the way he spoke like the pastries were scheming against him.

“That's why I saved some for you.”

He was taken aback but quickly recovers, “Am I that amazing that you saved some for me?” his smile is genuine—truly happy that he got his muffins.

You shook your head as you smile—going over to the coffee maker to brew his coffee.

While the coffee brewed, he looked around the café, his gaze lingering on the empty tables and neatly stacked chairs.

“Quiet tonight, huh? Guess most folks have already curled up for the evening.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s been like that the past few days. Slower than usual.”

“Mm.” His grin softened into something thoughtful.

“I kind of like it, though. Gives a place like this… a heartbeat. No crowd noise, just the walls breathing, you know?”

The machine hissed, filling the silence for a moment. You handed him the steaming cup, which he accepted with both hands like it was sacred.

He sniffed the brew, eyes narrowing theatrically. “Smells like… destiny. Or doom. Hard to tell which, really.” He took a sip, then let out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction.

“Ah. Yes. That’ll either keep me awake for three days straight, or give me visions. Maybe both.”

You shook your head, amused. “Visions of what?”

He took another sip, muffling a laugh. “Probably of me fighting an army of players on the heights, I'll win of course!”

You sat the muffin down on his table before turning to return to the counter before he stops you, “Join me, no one else is here. You and I could use company.”

You hesitated, looking at the cafe door before at him then finally you sat down across from him.

The muffin you’d set down earlier sat between you both, and with mock seriousness he broke it in half, handing you a piece. “Best to share the spoils before I eat them all.”

You accepted it, biting back a laugh. “Thanks. I’ll make sure it give you more next time.”

For a moment, the silliness faded into something gentler. He glanced at you over his cup, expression easier now.

“You know… it’s nice. Being in a place where someone actually talks back. Too many spots these days just hand you a drink and send you off. No conversation, no warmth. Feels… hollow.”

The weight of it hung there only a moment before he waved it off with his free hand.

“But don’t mind me. I get philosophical when I’ve gone too long without caffeine.”

You smiled faintly. “No, I get it. That’s why I opened this place. So it wouldn’t feel like that.”

Shedletsky’s grin returned, wide and genuine.

“Well, mission accomplished. You’ve got yourself a fan.” He raised his cup in a mock toast before taking another long sip.

The café fell into a comfortable rhythm: you cleaning quietly behind the counter, him alternating between sipping his coffee, nibbling on the muffin, and tossing out the occasional offhand comment—a joke about how chairs “must get tired of holding everyone up,” or how sugar packets were “just little paper grenades waiting to happen.”

By the time he finished, he looked more awake than when he’d come in.

Placing the empty cup and wrapper neatly back on the counter, he gave you a lopsided smile.

“Thanks for keeping the lights on a little longer. You saved me from a long, gloomy walk with nothing but my own bad jokes to keep me company.”

“Anytime,” you said honestly.

He nodded once, almost solemnly, then ruined the seriousness by adding with a wink, “Next time, though, I’m challenging your dark roast to a rematch. See if it can finally take me down.”

And with that, Shedletsky ambled toward the door, humming to himself as the bell chimed softly behind him.

As the bell above the door chimed one last time and your final customers stepped into the evening air, you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Finally, a chance to stretch your legs, to breathe without the hum of orders and chatter pressing against your eardrums.

Leaning against the counter for a moment, you ran a hand through your hair, feeling the lingering warmth of the café settle into the quiet.

The smell of coffee, slightly bitter but comforting, mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries that hadn’t quite sold today.

Your eyes drifted around the café as you began tidying, picking up stray napkins and wiping down tables. It struck you how this little corner cafe in Robloxia had drawn such a strange, delightful collection of faces.

There were the usual regulars, of course, the ones who made patterns out of their visits: Red with his loud, bright energy that practically bounced through the café every time he entered, Blue with her quieter, contemplative gaze that seemed to take in every detail of the room, and Noobador, trying to balance the two with patient amusement.

But then there were the more… unusual customers.

The likes of Guest, silent but commanding in their presence; Shedletsky, whose wings and laugh could fill a room even when they tried to stay hidden; Azure and Two Time, so delicate with each other, yet carrying shadows with them that you couldn’t quite name.

Even Chance and Mafioso, entirely different from the rest, had wandered through your doors in a rush of laughter, concern, or something in between.

You wiped down the counter, tapping the rag absently as your mind wandered.

It was strange, in a way, how all these different Robloxians—so varied in appearance, temperament, and stories—found themselves crossing paths at your café.

Maybe it was the warmth of the space, the smell of freshly baked pastries, or the fact that you tried to make everyone feel welcome, no matter how chaotic or mysterious they might be.

You had always believed that a café was more than just coffee and food; it was a place for a moment of calm, a brief respite from the chaos of the outside world.

And somehow, it seemed that your little spot had become exactly that.

As you leaned down to retrieve a stray spoon that had rolled under a chair, something caught your eye.

A small, folded tissue, slightly crumpled, tucked beneath the edge of a table.

Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, realizing it was written in Red and Blue’s familiar handwriting.

Your heart squeezed unexpectedly as you read the text.

"Thank you for always being so kind to us! You make the café feel like a home, and we love coming here. You’re the best!” – Red & Blue

A warm smile spread across your face, and for a moment, the exhaustion of the day seemed to melt away.

You couldn’t remember seeing the note earlier, probably slipped in during their excited chatter.

The simplicity of it, the innocence and sincerity, struck you harder than any compliment from any custo ever could.

They had noticed, in their small, wonderful way, the care you put into every coffee poured, every pastry arranged, every smile shared.

You carefully placed the note on the counter beside the register, feeling an unexpected swell of gratitude and affection for the little regulars who had made this place brighter just by being themselves.

Straightening up, you stretched your arms above your head and glanced around the café, still quiet now, still brimming with traces of the day’s energy.

It was just you, the fading aroma of coffee, and the soft hum of the night settling in, but somehow, it felt full—warm, and alive, and right where it should be.

The café, in all its simple chaos and quiet magic, had become a little world of its own.

And you, amid the clinking cups and scattered napkins, couldn’t help but feel grateful for every single Robloxian who had ever stepped through that door.

The Head Baker: Ulfat Baloch🌸

Arrives before sunrise every day.

Responsible for breads, croissants, cheesecakes, cookies, and all signature bakes.

Takes baking very seriously.(ofc)

Will silently judge anyone who squeezes a croissant.

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

The Sous chef: Donga🍓

Ulfat's apprentice.

Decorates cakes and desserts and makes the best lasagna.

Usually covered in flour and frosting.(Definitely not because he was stealing sampling the pastries again)

Refuses to wear a head cap while baking. Because in his defence he has like zero hair-😭

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

The Brew master: Hamza Ali Mazari☕️

The café's coffee and chai expert.

Certified barista (thanks to his masters in brewing science from Aalam doodh soda University😳).

Constantly experiments with new drinks.

If someone compliments a latte, he pretends to be cool about it but is secretly thrilled.

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

The café manager (and server): Uzair Baloch📋

Runs the café with the owner(Rehman)

Handles inventory, staff schedules, customer complaints, finances, and ordering supplies.

Still serves customers because he genuinely enjoys it.

Knows almost every regular by name and remembers their usual order.(specially a certain pretty lady who sits in the corner always ordering two pastries for herself)

pic credits: @miraclejin1204

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

Resident Cat: Suki DaKat 😼

Official title: Customer Relations Manager.

Unofficial title: The actual owner of the Café

Chooses one customer every day to bless with his presence.

Rehman insists he doesn't spoil the cat.

The staff have photographic evidence proving otherwise.

(Bro's got the kasainuma smile as well😭)

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

Regular Customer!Y/N who has been coming to Mehfil for so long that nobody actually remembers when she became a regular. Some mornings it's before university, grabbing a quick cup of coffee before class. Other evenings it's after lectures with her books still peeking out of her tote bag. And on weekends she's there simply because nowhere else quite matches the comfort and vibes of Mehfil.

Regular Customer!Y/N who has an unreserved permanent table. It's the little corner by the window overlooking the streets and the docks beyond it, tucked just in the cozy corner away from the evening crowd where she can study in peace while still listening to the local band perform every night.

Store Manager!Uzair who, after her 3rd day at the cafe, starts noticing the moment she walks through the door without ever making it obvious. He'll be halfway through counting inventory or helping another customer, yet somehow he's always be the first one to greet her with a quiet smile and a soft, "The usual?"

Store Manager!Uzair who memorized her order months ago. One Kashmiri noon chai and whichever pastry she'd convinced herself she'd "only have a bite" of before inevitably finishing the entire thing , and ordering a second.

Store Manager!Uzair who always manages to sneak something complimentary onto her tray. Sometimes it's a pistachio croissant, sometimes a slice of kunafa cheesecake, sometimes a freshly baked cookie that "would've gone to waste anyway," even though everybody in the café knows that's a complete lie.

Regular Customer!Y/N who genuinely believes Mehfil just treats all their regulars like this. She tells her classmates all the time that it's the nicest café in Lyari, never realizing the complimentary pastries have absolutely nothing to do with customer loyalty.

Store Manager!Uzair who keeps telling himself it's simply good business. Regular customers recommend cafés to their friends, happy customers come back... and none of those reasons explain why he's never once slipped a complimentary pastry onto anyone else's tray.

Head Baker!Ulfat who starts noticing the pastry count never matches her inventory sheets anymore. One pistachio croissant disappears almost every afternoon without fail, followed by the occasional cheesecake slice or chocolate chip or coconut cookies.

Head Baker!Ulfat who immediately assumes Donga is the culprit. The poor man can't even decorate a cheesecake in peace before she's asking whether he's been "sampling" the display again.

Sous Chef!Donga who sputters abd spends an entire hour defending his innocence. He swears on every croissant in the bakery that he hasn't touched a single cheesecake or cookie, but absolutely nobody believes him.

Head Baker!Ulfat who corners Donga in the kitchen one afternoon with the inventory sheet still clutched in her hand. She asks where the missing pastries are going, and Donga, without a single thought in his brain, points through the serving window towards Uzair.

Sous Chef!Donga who accidentally exposes Uzair in under five seconds. "Uzair bhai gives them to that pretty girl by the window." Then immediately goes back to piping cream onto éclairs, blissfully ignoring the silence caused by the bomb he dropped.

Store Manager!Uzair who realizes he's been caught the second Ulfat walks out into the register, eyes narrowed at him. He's suddenly very interested in reorganizing the coffee beans that definitely did not need reorganizing.

Head Baker!Ulfat who drags Uzair into the kitchen by his ear. She doesn't care that customers might see, she wants to know why weeks' worth of perfectly made croissants have mysteriously vanished into one very specific customer's tray.

Store Manager!Uzair who completely blanks the second Ulfat asks him to explain himself. He starts rambling and stuttering about customer retention, loyalty, regulars, positive experiences and free marketing until even he realizes he isn't making any sense.

Head Baker!Ulfat who simply folds her arms and asks, "and...?."(there's always an and)

Store Manager!Uzair who sighs in defeat after thirty seconds of him rambling pathetic excuses and knows that he's been caught, "andshescuteandimighthaveacrushonher."

Head Baker!Ulfat who pinches the bridge of her nose. "Then ask the poor girl out. Stop bribing her with my pastries. Do you even knkw how expensive coconuts are in Karachi?!."

Brewmaster!Hamza who overhears the entire conversation while steaming milk. Doesn't even bother looking up before muttering, "Bhabi, I've literally been telling him that for months."

Brewmaster!Hamza who somehow becomes Uzair's biggest supporter and biggest bully at exactly the same time. Every time Y/N walks through the door, he quietly elbows Uzair in the ribs before disappearing into the back with the smuggest smirk known to mankind. And everytime Uzair would mutter profanities under his breath. He should have never told his stupid best friend about the crush. Ugh.

Store Manager!Uzair who somehow becomes twice as awkward after everyone finds out about his crush. He starts dropping spoons, forgetting table numbers and nearly burning himself on freshly brewed coffee whenever she smiles at him.

Regular Customer!Y/N who mistakes every ounce of his awkwardness for simple shyness. She just assumes he's naturally quiet since he hasn't really tried to intimate any conversation with her ever, she never realizes the poor man has forgotten how to function every time she even looks at him now.

Resident Cat!Suki who has more charm and game than Uzair, has found a permamnwt way to get pets and cuddles everytime Y/N was at the café. He waits at the café's window sill until she arrives and trots over the second she enters, and spends the next three hours curled up in her lap while she studies.

Regular Customer!Y/N who starts carrying cat treats in her bag specifically for Suki. She tells herself they're "just in case," even though everybody in Mehfil has watched her buy a fresh packet every single week for the furry menace.

Resident Cat!Suki who absolutely adores Y/N and absolutely cannot stand Uzair when Y/N is with him. Every time the poor man walks over with her order, Suki lifts his head just long enough to hiss before curling back up in her lap like nothing happened.

Brewmaster!Hamza who becomes convinced Suki can smell a man with a crush from across the room. Uzair insists cats don't work like that. Hamza insists Suki Dakat is living proof that they do.

Owner!Rehman who drops by the flagship one afternoon to check on business. He notices the steady crowd, the familiar university student by the window... and yet another complimentary pastry sitting on her tray.

Owner!Rehman who doesn't need anybody to explain what's happening. One look from his wife a cross the kitchen counter, and he knows what's going on. Telepathy comes naturally after a certain point in marriage,

Owner!Rehman who says absolutely nothing. He simply gives Uzair one long, knowing look before walking into his office at the back of he café, somehow making his younger brother feel more embarrassed than an entire lecture ever could.

The entire Mehfil staff who slowly turn Uzair's love life into a team project without letting either of them realise it. Ulfat "accidentally" bakes a heart shaped pistachio pastry, Hamza keeps making the wrong drink for Uzair to go over to her table atkeast twice before he makes it right, Donga offers encouraging thumbs ups from behind the pastry display.

Resident Cat!Suki who chooses the exact day Uzair finally gathers the courage to confess... to not hiss at him for once. Hamza later swears even the cat had finally decided to help.

Store Manager!Uzair who spends nearly ten minutes rehearsing what he's going to say before walking over to her table. The speech disappears from his brain the second she looks up and smiles.

Store Manager!Uzair who somehow manages to ask if she'd like to have dinner with him despite sounding like every word physically pains him to say. He's already preparing himself for rejection before she's even had a chance to answer.

Regular Customer!Y/N who blinks at him in complete confusion before laughing softly. She'd honestly been daydreaming about the sweet café manager who kept giving her free pastries finally asking her out.

Regular Customer!Y/N who admits she's partly kept coming back for him. somewhere between complimentary croissants and remembering her order, she'd developed a hopeless crush on the tall, sweet and handsome store manager too.

Store Manager!Uzair who spends months trying to win her over with free pastries... only to discover she'd already fallen for him long before he'd found the courage to ask.

Head Baker!Ulfat who let's all the staff have a piece of their favourite pastry in honour of Uzair finally growing a pair and asking his crush out.

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