Okay I just had a funny idea, what if the trailblazer finds a cup of coffee, that cup of coffee belongs to the reader but everyone tells them not to try it and they do it anyway and immediately regret it, not because it's insanely bitter, but rather because it's insanely sweet. I got inspired by this TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT2DD9J1g/
“This Ain’t Coffee, It’s a Dessert”
Summary: The Trailblazer stumbles upon an unattended cup of coffee on the Astral Express and, despite multiple warnings from the crew, takes a sip. Expecting bitterness, they are instead met with an overwhelming sugar overload—because the coffee belongs to you, and your sweet tooth knows no limits. Now suffering from an extreme sugar crash, the Trailblazer learns a valuable lesson: never underestimate your taste in coffee.
Tags: Astral Express Crew x Reader, Platonic, Humor, Crack Fic, Fluff, Found Family Vibes, Trailblazer Suffering (Mild, Self-Inflicted), Coffee Disaster.
Warnings: Mild Caffeine Consumption, Excessive Sugar (Mentions of an absurdly sweet drink), Secondhand Embarrassment.
The Express was quiet. Too quiet.
Which, in hindsight, should have been the Trailblazer’s first warning.
They wandered into the lounge, eyes scanning for something to snack on, when they spotted it—an innocent-looking cup of coffee sitting on the table. No one else was around. The warm aroma of caffeine and something oddly… caramel-like filled the air.
The Trailblazer tilted their head. Just one sip wouldn’t hurt, right?
Right?
They reached out.
“Don’t do it.”
March 7th’s voice cut through the silence as she popped up from behind the couch, her usual mischievous grin replaced with something closer to amusement—and pity.
The Trailblazer blinked. “Why not?”
“That’s [Name]’s coffee,” Dan Heng said from across the room, not even looking up from his book. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Himeko, who had just stepped in, chuckled. “Oh, this will be fun.”
“Fun?” The Trailblazer furrowed their brows. “Come on, it’s just coffee. How bad can it be?”
Welt, sipping his own (presumably normal) coffee, sighed. “You won’t like it.”
At this point, the Trailblazer’s curiosity had escalated into determination. They ignored the warnings, picked up the cup, and took a big sip.
Silence.
March covered her mouth, eyes wide in anticipation. Himeko leaned against the counter, clearly holding back laughter. Even Dan Heng had paused mid-page.
The Trailblazer froze. Their brain short-circuited. Their tongue was drowning in liquid sugar.
This wasn’t coffee. This was a dessert in disguise. It was syrup with a hint of coffee. It was sugar in its final, most dangerous form.
They coughed. “What—what is this?!”
Himeko chuckled. “I did warn you.”
“This—this is pure sugar! I think my teeth are dissolving!” The Trailblazer shoved the cup away as if it had personally offended them. “How is [Name] still alive after drinking this?!”
March finally lost it, bursting into laughter. “Told you!”
Dan Heng shook his head. “They enjoy it. Somehow.”
Welt sighed, rubbing his temples. “You should listen when we give you warnings.”
Just then, the door slid open, and you walked in. You spotted your cup instantly. “Oh, hey! Has anyone seen my coffee?”
Everyone turned to stare at the Trailblazer.
The Trailblazer, still reeling from their near-death sugar overdose, slowly pointed at the cup. “You drink that?”
You blinked. “…Yeah? Why?”
March wheezed. “They tried it.”
You gasped. “Oh no. You poor soul.”
The Trailblazer groaned, slumping onto the couch as Himeko patted their shoulder comfortingly. Welt merely sighed again, and Dan Heng returned to his book, quietly muttering, “You brought this upon yourself.”
March grinned. “So… round two?”
The Trailblazer paled. “Never again.”
And so, they learned an important lesson that day: Never underestimate your taste in coffee.
REMIND ME NEXT TIME TO NOT MAKE COFFEE WHEN I'M CRYING AND ABSOLUTELY SAD. I ALMOST BURNED MY HANDS BY POURING HOT BOILING MILK ON IT WITHOUT GLASSES ON AND MY EYES WERE BLURRED WITH TEARS AND I ALMOST PUT SALT INSTEAD OF SUGAR.
ALMOST
First of all my dude, are you doing ok? 🥺
Glad to know that you didn't hurt yourself! When I was little I had hot black coffee on myself, luckily it wasn't serious. Thank goodness you're doing fine because burning hot stuff just sometimes scares me 🫂
I wanted to get out of the house for a while today so I decided to go to Starbucks. I got a breakfast sandwich and sat while I waited for my coffee. I think I saw people who ordered after me get their coffee, but I wasn’t exactly feeling impatient, just a bit of that feeling that comes when you wait for something. It was just that slight boredom of time being slowed down, nothing to fuss over. However, I was half zoned out and I heard my order called, so I happily grabbed the drink and flitted back to my seat. I held it for a moment just enjoying the warmth, and then I took off the lid, rather than just taking a sip like I normally would. I chose to stick my finger in the whipped cream to taste it, despite the fact that I was in public. The drink looked and tasted different though, so I turned it around to look at the label to see if something was off. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what seemed wrong about the label, except I couldn’t find my name. At that precise moment where I am stupidly trying to analyze the label, I hear the barista explain to a customer that she just put his second drink out a minute ago. I immediately realized my mistake and made deer in the headlights eye contact with the man whose drink I stole. I gasped as I did this and tried to apologize, but the man gruffly said forget it because he had to go and immediately left with only one of his two coffees. I felt so horrible but had no idea what to do so I quickly put my stuff away and rushed out to my car with the coffee. I sat in my car, the stolen drink sitting offensively in the cup holder, and I was so upset over what I did that I couldn’t drink the coffee, and I actually started crying because I thought I must have ruined that man’s day. The drink got thrown away because I couldn’t handle the idea of drinking it, and I left Starbucks before my own drink was made so I didn’t get any drink at all.
TLDR: I accidentally grabbed the wrong coffee at Starbucks and ended up having a breakdown in my car without getting any coffee at all because I couldn’t get myself to even drink the stolen coffee.
So. I dropped my coffee on the train. And half of it spilled out on the floor. And the straw got washed out between the chair and the wall.
So I catch it and swear and then I’m just sitting there, holding my half empty cup and staring, because I now have no straw cause bitch, I ain’t usin that shit now. No way.
Time to make do. Take the lid off and drink like a heathen.
Okay, so it’s been a few days, but there hasn’t been much to talk about. Still in pain, though it’s not as bad. Went to a lab (they finally found blood in my hand by my thumb). Saw a movie (The Kingsmen, which was pretty good).
Found out my niece and nephew have lice (luckily they didn’t pass it to me). And then another day of work. Sunday, I was a cashier, which usually isn’t so bad.
Monday turned a bit hectic. It was a particularly busy Monday, first off. Started with spilling a lot of coffee (I’m sure I’ll do it again so I’ll go into more detail on that later), and then having to run to two DMVs.
I mean, seriously, what kind of DMV isn’t open on Mondays? I mean, seriously?
Anyway...
Now it’s Tuesday, and I’m woken by a serious of dings from my phone. Oh, yes, that’s right, I’m 30.
A few days ago I started making coffee before work, and realized I didn’t have enough time. I stashed my Aeropress in the coffee drawer and went on my way. Yesterday, exhilarated from a quick pre-work run, I retrieved the Aeropress and set up my travel mug. When the kettle whistled I poured in a full measure of boiling water, stirred it, and waited the requisite 10 seconds. I fit the plunger on top of the cylinder and, because I put in a little more coffee than usual, pressed down vigorously. I threw weight in it, hovering over the press and starting straight down to assess its progress. The whole thing exploded.
My arms, face, and eyes were covered with hot water and gritty coffee grounds. My roommate later told me coffee and grounds covered the ceiling as well as the counter and floor. Alarmed, I realized the hot water and grounds actually got in my eyes. I ran to the bathroom, tearing off my soaked shirt and jumping in the shower to try to cool my face and arms as quickly as possible. This did nothing to flush my eyes, which I was most concerned about cooling. I hopped out of the shower and stuck my head under the bathroom sink, forcing my eyes open and trying to get as much water into them as possible. It seemed impossible.
Working at various coffee shops for a number of years, I learned that a burn should be rinsed with cool water for at least 10 minutes to stop the burning action. Even sticking my head under the sink didn’t seem to be enough. I changed to gathering water in my cupped hands and splashing my eyes, ignoring the heat and pain on my forearms. When everything seemed to be clear, I stepped back and assessed. My right eye hurt. I stared at a poster hanging on the wall outside my bathroom, closing first one eye and then the other. Was it blurrier with my right eye? Was that normal? I had to leave for work in a few minutes. But ought I to go? Should I seek treatment instead? How serious was it. After dithering for a few minutes, I said to myself, “Kate, this is exactly what health insurance is for.” I called my roommate to let her know why there was a coffee explosion in the kitchen, called dispatch to let them know I was seeking emergency medical treatment and wouldn’t be in any time soon, and headed for urgent care.
Urgent care immediately sent me to a nearby hospital’s emergency department. It’s a small community hospital in a small city, and at 6:00 on a Thursday evening the waiting room was empty. I was seen right away, fussed over by two nurses and thoroughly assessed by a doctor who didn’t have any more urgent calls. An eye exam found my vision perfect, 20/20 in each eye and 20/15 with both together. The doctor put dye in each eye and examined them under a blacklight, explaining the dye would make abrasions and burns stand out. “You do have a burn on your right eye, not on the cornea but immediately adjacent to it,” she said. They sent me home with a note excusing me from work for two days, a prescription for antibiotic eye drops, and instructions to take it easy.
I consider myself lucky, not only because I wasn’t hurt very badly, but because I have benefits through work that make this an inconvenience instead of a fiasco. I have health insurance, which covered the bulk of the hospital expense and some of the prescription. My assurance is affordable; I don’t even miss the deduction from my paycheck. I have paid time off, which means I’ve been able to stay home and allow my body to recover, without worrying about losing 20 hours of work. I’m paid a living wage, which means I am able to absorb the not-inconsiderable amount I did have to pay out of pocket--$125 for the emergency room co-pay, $50 for the prescription eyedrops, another $20 for over-the-counter eyedrops and salve recommended by the doctor, and a $13 indulgence of hard cider and Ben and Jerry’s.
Two years ago, things might have been different. I didn’t have insurance. Except when working seasonally for NPS, I didn’t have sick leave. I sure didn’t have a spare $200 to cover the cost of a coffee disaster. Two years ago, I might have decided to flush my eyes a little longer and hope for the best. Nobody should have to make that choice, especially not in a wealthy nation like the United States. We can--and should--do better for our citizens.
