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reveluving · 2 years

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her cafe ; batfam x batmom reader

summary: you’re Bruce Wayne’s wife a.k.a Batmom, who’s also the owner of one of Gotham’s well-known café known as Mother’s Touch, where your family loves to visit.

warnings: pure fluff!

a/n: here it is, reuploading my first ever Batmom fic! y’all don’t know how good it feels to be writing for Batfam again 😭 (for those who have read this on my old acc a.k.a taiyakimmy, hi! this is my new acc!)

» check out my batmom m.list, or my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Bruce Wayne:

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been at the register, half-listening to the customer drop pick-up lines after pick-up lines to you. You had a good sense of humor. Hell, Dick and Tim learned their puns from you!

But right now, you knew the man in front of you was nothing but trouble. Worst of all, you couldn’t do anything about it. Not unless he decided to lay his hands on you and thankfully, he hasn’t done that.

Sadly, that only meant smile respectfully even if it meant gritting your teeth.

You recognized the man as one of Bruce’s clients, Montgomery. He reeked of cheap cologne and bad businesses, you know, the usual. Maybe things didn’t go so well for him and your husband.

You were dreading for one of your employees to put you out of your misery. Though, giving them a side glance, you saw them shivering in one group. One of them got yelled at by Montgomery not too long ago for interrupting, after all.

“Mr. Montgomery, for the last time, I won’t go on a date with you. I’m a married woman and a mother, after all,” You knew he turned a deaf ear at your words and scoffed.

“Right, and what’s ol’ Bruce going to tell ya?”

"I mean, I won’t tell her anything, to be honest,” You smirked once Montgomery’s face paled, looking as if he might faint, hearing the voice of the one and only.

You peeked behind the sleazy man, seeing Bruce mirroring a similar smirk, but his eyes darkened. Your employees already ran to the kitchen, watching the tension unfold through the small window.

“You, on the other hand, well, that’s a different story,” Bruce tutted, “Now that you’re here, though, I've been thinking; that idea you proposed earlier?” He whistled, “A little too risky, y’know,”

“Wooah, heeey, wait, wait,” Montgomery laughed nervously, shrinking once he faced him, “Come on, pal, I’d never lay a finger on her. Cross my heart! And I’ve only told you half of my plan. I’ll make the other half worth your time,”

Bruce pretended to think for a moment.

“Sure, it wouldn’t hurt to give a second thought,” He shrugged nonchalantly. By now, you’ve moved away from the cashier, standing close to Bruce, “I’ll see you in the office at 3, alright? I just need a word with wife for a moment,”

Montgomery didn’t wait to answer and made a beeline for the exit with his now-cold cup of latte. You closed your eyes, sighing in relief. Before you could even thank your savior, he wrapped his arm around your waist—almost possessively.

“Your knuckles were white, y'know,” He hid his face in your neck, breath hitched once you felt his hot breath, “I’m sure he could’ve handled a punch or three, would’ve been nice,”

He meant to say hot but that’ll do.

You clicked your tongue, but not out of annoyance.

“And risk our little safe haven? Please,” You and Bruce watched as Montgomery nearly tripped, trying to cross the road, “I hope you’re not actually going to approve that project of his,”

“Absolutely not,” You could’ve sworn he growled under his breath, wrapping his other arm around your front. You’re glad the others are in the kitchen. Even so, you could feel your face grow hotter.

You hid your face in your hands, his low chuckle never failed to send shivers down your spine.

Knowing he’s the only one that could make you this flustered mattered more than even the most expensive of projects he’s done.

You’ve given him love, sanity and most importantly; hope. There’s no way he’s letting some good-for-nothing egomaniac go anywhere close to him and especially you.

✧･ﾟ Dick Grayson:

“You sure she won’t mind?” Barbara asked for the umpteenth time, causing Dick to sigh for the same amount. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders with a reassuring smile.

“Yes, Babs, I’m positive. I’d be in huge trouble if I at least didn’t say hi, aaand I learned that the hard way,” Barbara wasn’t sure if he was kidding or reminiscing in fear, “And since you’ve never been to the place, I thought it’d be the perfect time for you to meet her,”

Now that she thought about it, she’s not sure why. Just days ago, she confessed to Dick how she’s never stepped into the café. The one thing she had before was your pancakes her father once brought home and holy shit.

That was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

She knew it was a big deal, judging from Dick’s offended gasp. He swore to bring her as soon as possible. He made a mental note to bring her during non-peak hours so you two could meet. He’s been meaning to see you too anyway.

One thing though; he’s praying you wouldn’t embarrass him too much.

The bell of the front door chimed once Dick pushed the door open, and they were immediately greeted with the smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries. Their shoulders automatically relaxed, and whatever unnecessary worries they had before just vanished.

So it’s true; your problems really do just vanish when you step in.

Barbara couldn’t help but marvel at the aesthetics of the café. They were much different from a lot of the cafes in the city; dull, dark, and just plain sad. Yours was bright from the natural light coming from the giant windows, and customers looked more alive. Dick looked over to Barbara, feeling proud at her awed expression. It’s the same look he had when he first stepped in as a kid.

The coffee shop was identical to those South Korean cafes and their too-good-to-be-eaten cakes you’d see online.

He escorted her to the window seat, also known as the best seat of the shop. Barbara’s eyes sparkled as she scanned through the single-page menu. Even the menu was interesting!

Dick chuckled before squinting his eyes at the counter, hoping to find a certain (H/C)-haired woman walking around. He perked up once he saw you stepped out of the storage room and raised his hand for your attention. Your neutral expression quickly turned into a beaming smile as soon as your eyes laid on him and approached the table.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my lil’ Dickie,” You purposely teased, seeing that he has company. His widened his eyes at you, as if to say ‘please don’t’. Barbara, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at you.

She’s seen you countless times on TV and Dick’s phone gallery, but seeing you up-close was a whole different experience. She has to know whatever your secret is to look this young. It’s no wonder that Bruce himself couldn’t resist your beauty. She flushed red once her eyes locked with yours, causing you to chortle.

“Now, are you going to introduce the sweetheart to me?” Dick let out a muffled mumbling before moving the menu away from his face.

“Barbara, this is my mom. Mom, this is Barbara, my study-buddy,” He succumbed to your half-smirk. He knew you weren’t going to let this go for a while.

“Ah!” You clasped your hands together in elation before whispering to Barbara, “Good to know someone’s keeping an eye out for my boy,”

You ignored your son face-planting on the table.

“It’s finally nice to meet the young Gordon, I’d say, you’re prettier than I imagined,” You held your chin, taking a good look at her. Barbara nearly hyperventilated, not expecting such boldness, and from you no less. Dick told her that you tend to praise others a lot. But, reverse those roles and you're as timid as a mouse. You were humble and he loves that about you.

“Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” You wore your glasses, previously hanging around your neck and clicked on your pen.

“I can’t visit my own mother without a reason?” Dick smiled cheekily, contrasting to the deadpan that you wore out of nowhere.

“Normally, your visits from Bludhaven have a reason, mister,” You narrowed your eyes, slowly leaning closer to him. He sunk back in his seat and soon, you were hovering over him. Barbara tried her best to stifle a laugh, “Right, well, I’m sure you two study-buddies are busy,“

You straightened your back, a kind smile making its return.

"Would you like the soufflé pancakes, dear?” You turned to Barbara—you’ve seen her eyeing the pancake category since you started bantering with the boy. Getting caught red-handed, she nodded.

“The one with caramelized bananas, please, and an iced black tea,” She requested politely. Dick had his usual order; a beef eggplant panini with iced black tea, too. He never missed a beat when it comes to the combo.

“Alright, you two hang tight, lunch will be ready in a jiffy,” You notified them in a sing-song manner before returning to the register. They watched you naturally interacting with the line of customers when a worker needed a hand.

“She’s really nice,” Barbara spoke softly, but Dick caught every word. Nice was an understatement he agreed nonetheless. No matter how sheepish he gets for being babied, he won’t ever love you any less.

✧･ﾟ Jason Todd:

You trudged to the final window blind, despite your muscles screaming in agony. Rush hour on Mondays is always a pain in the ass, and today was no different. Keeping a smile, dealing with rude customers, and working back and forth between the kitchen and the cashier was already a workout. Even so, you had the heart to tell your employees that you’ll close the shop on your own. They’ve helped you with most of the cleaning duties, so that’s good.

You paused, hearing a shuffling in the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, only to see a red-hooded man jumping over the counter.

“I just cleaned that, you know,” Well, no, you were lying. Your barista did but now you would have to wipe it, “Bad boy or not, there are rules here, young man,”

Jason grumbled, but instantly shut his mouth when you gave him an ‘I dare you’ glare. He raised his hands in defense before removing his helmet, catching your eyes with his all-too-familiar white streak of hair.

“You’re grumpy,” He stated as-a-matter-of-fact and took a rag hanging on the coffee machine before wiping the counter that he jumped over.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” With all the windows covered, you took the nearest cushion booth seat and landed on your back. Jason huffed in amusement, seeing your legs flailing around to stretch, “Stopping by the manor today?”

“Nah, sorry,” He didn’t wish to see the sadness, but he felt your eyes bore onto his back, “Ma, please,”

“I know, I know. My Jay’s a busy man, I’m just messing with ya,” Your smile was strained, but he knew you too well. Although his visits were frequent nowadays, that wasn’t the case for the manor. Sure, he and Bruce no longer had bad blood, but that didn’t mean he’d move back in like nothing happened, “C’mon, I saved some bestsellers for you,”

More often than not, you’d save a box of treats whenever Jason lets you know he’s coming. Whether he’s sharing with a partner or needs his me-time, you’re much more content knowing he’s not working on an empty stomach.

He watched you shuffled to the back of the counter before coming back to stand before him with ever-so-familiar pastry packaging.

“Got you some cinnamon buns, I can heat them up if you want?” Your aching body says no, but none of them mattered when it comes to your children. He took the box from your hands before setting it down on the table next to him. Confused, you were about to question him when he suddenly pulled you to his chest, hiding his face in your hair.

It’s unusual for Jason to do the honors. Normally, it’s you who would ask him for a hug.

“Jay, dear, what’s wrong?” He shook his head, so, you did what you knew comforted him; stroke his hair. Being the tallest kid amongst others, you’d have to crane your neck to a better angle so you wouldn’t suffocate.

Reminiscing his time as a kid, wandering around the dangerous streets, cold and starving was inevitable. It’s just those days that naturally come up to screw one over.

Then, he stumbled upon your shop, right when you’re about to close. He feared that you’ve called the cops for watching you in a distance when you walked back in.

You came back out and left a filled-up paper bag on your shop’s windowsill before returning home.

He went to his so-called home, weeping as he munched on your leftover buns and egg tarts.

Seeing you again in the Batcave with Bruce was like meeting his guardian angel. Whatever his fate would’ve been if he never met you was something he’d rather not think about. For now, he’s delighted to be in the arms of the woman that brought him back, both figuratively and literally.

✧･ﾟ Tim Drake:

“Tim?” He jolted in his seat, a piece of paper stuck to his cheek. He looked around, only to find that he’s still in the café, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me,”

“Sorry,” Tim gave you a bashful smile, yawning before taking the paper off his face. He came in an hour ago from his last class of the day to study. He wanted to greet you first but you were occupied, seeing that it was peak hours.

Instead, he took a seat and studied for a little bit. He regretted not ordering a cup of Joe beforehand and passed out with his head on his notes.

You placed a cup of his favorite on the table, and brushed his messy fringe to the side.

“Three cups only, alright?” You reminded—a rule he had to follow since you knew he’d have more at home late.

“Better than none, thanks mom,” He took a sip of his coffee and sighed in content. He stayed and studied until closing time so you could head home together. Cleaning the shop with you was his favorite, being able to catch-up and occasionally pour his feelings out just lifted the weights off his shoulders.

School was one thing, but being a vigilante was another. He knew he needed more than caffeine.

Of course, coffee is always a must, but spending even the shortest time with you is irreplaceable.

✧･ﾟCassandra Cain:

“Alriiight, I got us a jumbo, so we can share,” You carefully placed the vanilla milkshake on the table, further away from Cass’s notebook. The noirette looked up, giving you the smallest but thankful smile, “Alright sweetie, I’m ready,”

Usually, Cass’s visits on Wednesdays after rush hours were only so she could watch you work. Seeing her effort to stop by, you asked if she could help improve your sign language ability. You couldn’t forget the sparkle in her eyes.

Today, she wrote a little story so you could teach her how to read while she guides you to sign properly.

Ironically, the story consisted of a mother and her daughter. Although it was no more than 500 words, each sentence touched you.

It wasn’t until the final passage that it hit you.

'I would do anything for her.’

Your hands froze, unable to control the tear running down your cheek before you felt her thumb wiping it off. She took your hands hesitantly, almost as if she’s afraid you might push her away. You gently took hers in your hands.

You looked up, waiting for Cass’s next sign.

Or words, in this case.

“Thank you,” She was bashful with her struggles, but just hearing her it’s enough to make you weep with a smile.

Sure, the coffee shop never failed to make her feel safe.

But, it’s nothing compared to being by your side.

✧･ﾟ Duke Thomas:

Calm and Gotham were nowhere near synonymous, but somehow, the café would prove anyone wrong. It was almost magical.

Since he became a part of the Wayne, Duke would stop by every other day, daydreaming at the window counter seating. Watching anyone from the poorest to the richest of men pass by brought peace to his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Duke jumped a little but was immediately brought to a state of tranquility once he recognized the voice.

“Just enjoying the view, that’s all,” Getting the idea of your open arms, he reciprocated a hug.

“I’m a little hurt that you didn’t say hello when you came in,” You pulled away while pursing your lips, only to find his guilty smile.

“You looked busy in the back, so I didn’t wanna interrupt anything,” Your expression softened patting his shoulder.

“Duke, I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again; nothing is more important than my own family. I’ll drop everything I’m holding, if it means one of you needs help,” While he knew the statement was meant to be serious, Duke couldn’t help but snort.

“God, please no. Especially if you’re holding a hot tray or something,” He fears the idea of you dropping a cookie pan drop to the floor just so he could say 'hi’.

“That includes dropping a pan,” You grinned, causing him to groan in his hands, but in reality, he’s grateful.

If anyone told the younger version of Duke Thomas that he’s a metahuman and is soon to be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and his wife, he’d probably just laugh incredulously. Then again, this is Gotham, we’re talking about. Nothing’s normal in this city.

Yet, he couldn’t ask for a better life. Not when he already has one right now.

✧･ﾟ Damian Wayne:

“Ummi,” You perked up, hearing your youngest called for you. Alfred had just dropped him at the café from school but notified you that he wasn’t his usual. You asked Alfred what it was and he tutted, saying that he 'promised the young master not to tell’.

“Damian!” You bent over the counter, seeing him rather crestfallen, “Why so glum, dear?”

His body language screamed reluctance, although he tried not to show it. He twiddled his thumbs before asking for your hand. You did as you were told, walking around the counter so both of you could sit at the corner seat meant for employees. He placed his school bag on the table, silence filling the table.

“Damian?” You said his name in the softest tone you could muster. You assumed the worst — some kid bullying him for his race again. As much as you disliked Talia, there’s no way in hell that you would ever bring race, ethnicity, religion, or anything similar into the argument, “Is someone bothering you again?”

You raised your eyebrows when he shook his head. He slowly took a folded piece of paper out of his bag before passing it to you with his head down.

You eyed him suspiciously before unfolding the mystery paper. It was his Science paper.

He got a B+.

“This… this is amazing!” You exclaimed and wore your glasses before flipping through the pages. Most of his mistakes still made sense to you, even if they weren’t the answer, “Not even a B — a B plus,”

“But,” He interjected, “I had an A plus for the previous exam,” He hasn’t had the chance to study as much as he wanted to due to sleepless nights, “I’m no longer sure if I can even be the first in class anymore,”

You lowered his paper, registering his words in surprise before shaking your head with an amused smile. You stood from your seat and kneeled in front of Damian.

“Is this what it’s all about? Damian, your exams don’t necessarily define you. First place or not, you’re still my smart cookie,”

“The grade says it all!” He slouched in his seat, “I’m failing everyone,”

You tutted before gently lifting his chin, “You? Never. I know you Damian, and I have no doubt that you’ve tried your very best. Your exams don’t always define you. I’m proud of you nonetheless, and I will never love you any less. If anything, you’ve earned my love even more,”

His face hardened before giving you small defeated smile, relishing in your praises, even if he felt like it wasn’t meant for him at first.

His own birth mother would do the absolute worst to him for doing anything. One single bump and it’s over for him. The consequences were indescribable. Nothing inhumane, per se, just, un-motherly. He presumed you’d do the same too, even after all those months living with you, filled with nothing but peace and support.

Instead, here you were, praising him as if he won the Nobel Prize. His body was stiff ever since the drive with Alfred, although the butler told him time and time again that his results were immaculate.

“Congratulations to my smart boy!” You stood up, “As a present, I’ll make you anything you want for lunch,”

His usual spirit came back before requesting you his ol’ favourite; mozzarella and tomato panini. You thought he’d ask you to make something that’s not on the menu, but hey, what the boy wants, the boy gets!

✧･ﾟ Alfred Pennyworth:

“Soo, cream cake or tiramisu?” You watched Alfred squint his eyes, pondering between the two flavours. Every month, Alfred would come over to help you pick the best menu as seasonal bestsellers.

He must’ve been a psychic in his past life ‘cause whatever choices he made would always sell like hotcakes.

You’ve done this monthly meet-up six months after you and Bruce started dating. You wanted to spend more time with the father-figure, thus, the suggestion came out of the blue.

The first time he asked why him of all people, all you answered was 'there’s no other man of wisdom that I trust more than you’.

He kept that quote like a plaque in his mind.

“I would prefer the cream cake. We’re close to the strawberry season,” Behind him, was your only baker, jotting down Alfred’s points, “It would go well with a cold brew or Darjeeling,”

Your barista scribbled in his book, silently agreeing with the butler.

“Well, you heard him,” Your barista and baker playfully saluted before making a beeline for their stations. “Thank you so much, Alfred. My team and I are thankful to have a professional with us,”

“No, Mistress (L/N), I should be the one thanking you. It’s nice to go out and see the nicer parts of Gotham once in a while,” Alfred laughed — taking care of six children (and probably counting, who knows) and a brooding adult was more than a handful for little ol’ him.

If it wasn’t for that little patience of yours — one that nearly all Gotham locals failed to have, he’s not sure what lies for the future of the Wayne household.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

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btsxmalereaders · 1 year

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♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff

> tags — pre-debut bang chan, strangers to friends to lovers, just the reader being supportive af.

> word count — 5,11k

> summary — when you spot a lonely and seemingly stressed customer on the cafeteria you work in, you don't hesitate to keep him company. soon you find out what has been troubling him and decide to help him out, knowing it will be so easy to fall in love with him in the way.

Chan swears he could burst into tears once he takes a seat in the busy cafeteria he has arrived at, dragging the soles of his shoes and with his head down. Fortunately he has found an empty table, so he sets up his laptop after cleaning up a bit and plugs in his headphones, hoping to find at least some peace.

Even though this visit to the coffee shop was still to work, Chan feels his muscles a little less tense as the smell of coffee and tea brewing, also the bread and cookies coming out of the oven hits his nostrils.

His stomach growls, and after trying to ignore it for a few minutes, he finally decides to order something to keep him satisfied until it's time for dinner.

For the next few hours his eyes are fixed on his laptop screen, his fingers moving nimbly over the keys and cursor. He feels so pressured and guilty, and the unchanged expression on his face really hints at it.

There are so many questions running through his head, but no matter how hard he tries to find the answers, he always ends up in the same place. He knows that, as the leader of the group, he should be stronger and more supportive of his members; but now, in that small and now almost empty cafeteria, he feels like he can just let his worries be noticed without making the others be more preoccupied.

The sound of a teacup landing on his desk and being moved in his direction makes him look up, removing the only earpiece he had on and being met with a friendly smile.

"You look like you like tea better than coffee," You mutter, a little sheepishly. "It's on me. You look like you need it."

Chan doesn't know what to say for a moment, but before you can walk back to the register is when you can finally hear his voice.

"Thank you." He says with a sincere smile peeking on his face that denotes tiredness. "Uhm... _____?" Chan catches a glimpse of the nametag on your uniform. "I really needed it, you're very kind."

"Of course, enjoy it." You smile at him and turn on your heels, until his voice stops you again.

"Wait," Chan scratches the back of his neck and quickly takes a glance at the now empty cafeteria. "Would you like to take a seat? Unless you're busy."

"Don't worry, it's nearly closing time so it's unusual more customers come at late hours." You assure him with a shy smile, taking seat in front of him. That's when he realises it's late and he lost track of time again.

"Oh, I didn’t even notice it was that late," He murmurs. "I'm sure you have to do lots of things before closing and if I'm being a bother I'll-"

"Don't worry," You repeat, this time giggling. "You're fine. We still got time left."

Chan can't help but smile and sigh before taking the cup you just brought and take a sip. His eyes closes for a moment as he feels the warmth and sweet flavor on his tongue, then he speaks up again, surprised: "Oh, wow, you did this yourself?"

The tone of his voice makes you giggle a bit, and you teasingly answer, "Why? Don't I look like the type of person that could make such awesome and sweet brews like this?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to question your brewing abilities" He giggles as well. "It tastes amazing, I swear, it's almost as if you could read my mind and give me exactly what I needed."

"Yeah, actually when I got hired they told me I had to have this ability to read people's mind and give them their favorite beverages." You joke around, making him laugh even louder. "I think I'm doing a great job so far."

"Well, I pretty much appreciate it. No wonder why my friends recommended me this place so much, I think I'll become a frequent customer."

"It'll be nice to have you around here." You smile as you hear how your coworker thanks you for staying later for him and taking his coat before walking off the building. "Looks like it's only you and me."

Chan takes a glimpse of the time on his computer screen and yawns, "I spent a lot of time here and I haven't gotten a proper meal."

"Really? You should have dinner now before it gets too late. I think there are still ingredients to make something you'd like, do you-"

"Oh no, please," He immediately says before you can fully stand up. "Sorry. It's fine, you don't have to- I mean, you've been nice by given me this tea. I don't wanna look like I'm taking advantage of your kindness."

"Are you sure? I don't have any problem." You insist.

"Of course, plus, it's getting late, aren't you supposed to be closing in like twenty minutes?"

You nod, "Yeah, I just have to clean up some stuff and that's it. We don't really have clients coming last minute."

"Alright, how about I wait up and invite you something to eat on our way home? I'll pay you back."

You sweetly smile and stand up, "Alright. But I have to know your name first."

"Right, sorry, I am Bang Chan."

You extend your hand and he nervously shakes it, "Nice to meet you, Bang Chan. I'll tide up and be ready in a moment."

He watches you dissappear in the kitchen and starts to get nervous. This isn't how he expected his night to go. He had lots of things to do, to work on, to fix.

He entered the coffee shop feeling so down but determined to work hard and focus. At the verge of tears and slightly shaking still but wanting to fix everything, even when he deep down knew it wasn't at all up to him. He felt so guilty for allowing it to happen in first place and now he felt guilty for going out with someone he just met instead of working harder.

His head was surely a mess lately and even the thought of going out just for a night felt like something he didn't deserve to have. It has been so difficult and tough for him, he just felt the need to keep working so he could see the results he wanted the sooner as possible.

Without even noticing it, he starts biting his nails; his knee going up and down as he's sat in front of his laptop and saving his progress up to three times, just to make sure. He sighs with tiredness and an aching stomach, starting to feel his hands shake a little.

Breathing exercises, of course, he remembers it well. Minho has been there for him in tough times like this, being his companion at ungodly late night hours and being a shoulder Chan could lay on when it gets hard, but now he doesn't have it. He feels lost. Empty. How can he breathe well and feel on track when his friend isn't there to help him?

Millions of thoughts begin to cloud his mind. He is so tired and saddened by this situation but he doesn't have the time to grieve. The need to get back to the building and finish composing, as well as rehearsing and helping Felix study, gnaws at his insides.

"Hey," you say softly, snapping him out of the little trance he was in. "Everything okay?"

Chan looks beside himself for a moment before quickly gathering his belongings and standing up. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. You ready?"

"Are you sure? You look kind of... tired." You murmur, grabbing your backpack and keys. He shyly follows you and exits the place before you and you quickly close the door.

"Well, I am. I haven't been able to properly sleep, honestly," He chuckles, but still sounds saddened. "It's been tough days."

You both start walking down the streets; the neighborhood's nightlife highlighted by hearing people dining at nearby establishments and entering bars. Something quite common on a Friday night. Chan found it quite ironic how people were living their lives with ease and fun when he, in his full youth, was feeling so exhausted and stressed, wondering when things would get better for him.

"Well, I know we just met, but whatever you wanna talk about, I am here to listen." You smile and look at him as he sighs.

Chan doubts a little bit; was it really a good idea to vent out to a stranger? You looked really trustworthy, but would you even be willing to listening him ranting or were you just being nice? He doesn't say a word for the next minute, and you stop when you find small food truck.

"Want a corn dog?" You say, trying to lift the spirits a little bit. He nods and rushes to pay for them before you could even approach your hand to your pocket. "That's not fair."

"It is. You've done a lot for me and we just met. You're a nice guy," He chuckles and after you finish your order and get the food, you two walk a little bit to sit on a bench. "So... I know this might sound weird, but you seem a very trustworthy person and... I don't know, I guess I just need to vent out."

"I'm all ears, go ahead."

He sighs for the nth time that day and his leg goes up and down unconsciously. Chan looks somewhat nervous but once he starts talking, it goes on for minutes. He starts talking about that he is a trainee under a music company, and he, along his friends, is participating in a survival show in order for them to debut, and what has been making it so hard for him is that the person in charge and who has been giving them feedback, also decided to kick out two members of the group. Chan says he felt responsible for this because he is the leader, but has been struggling with this whole situation because he, at the same time he's sorting this out, has to calm everyone else down and give them the support and help they need too in these desperate times. He has been so hard on himself and has been overworking too to help his friends and avoid at all costs for them to ever feel that way again. Chan doesn't want them to be separated from the group, because he personally chose them and saw the potential in them to become part of this project. At this point, it's like they're a family, and wants to stick with them forever.

It almost feels as if he is truly pouring out his heart because he’s talking out with so much detail and constantly telling how he feels about every single thing coming out of his mouth. His gaze is fixed on the ground and he hasn’t even started to eat. You can only suppose he has been in a lot of pain and restlessness lately.

As he speaks, you can't help but notice the despair he feels. His eyes are glazed and he's fidgeting his fingers a lot but now you can't seem to do anything to help him; just listen. It's a lot to process, but you're doing your best.

You are not even sure if he has asked for your advice, so you try to process all the information you have received. Anyway, what could you possibly say to that?

After he stops speaking, he just keeps his gaze on the pavement, his food is getting colder and he feels this need to cry. You don't say anything for a moment until he raises his head.

"I'm sorry you're going through all of this... It really must be hard." You murmur, suddenly feeling your hands sweaty, your mind racing as it looks for comforting words to say. "Look, you probably already know not to worry too much and not to overwork yourself, you probably have been told this a lot... but you should know too that you're doing your best."

Chan can't help but chuckle at that, sniffing afterwards and clearing the traces of tears on his cheeks.

"Seriously, being in charge of a group it's a big responsibility, and I admire you for that. You're doing everything you can and it's okay, don't be too hard on yourself. Things will be just as you want them to be, and even better. Have patience and keep doing what you're doing. It's going to be okay soon."

Surprisingly, your words make him feel a little bit tense. Chan sincerely smiles and looks at you, nodding and feeling a comfort for the first time in a while, "Thank you, _____, I really appreciate it."

All he ever wanted was just vent out and feel heard. It's not like he didn't feel that way with his friends, but he truly needed to hear it from someone who wasn't involved in this situation. Hearing comforting words from someone else have given him the reassurance he needed.

"Of course, I wish I could help you more but I'm afraid I don't know a lot about these music companies... Is there any other way I could help you out? Because I'd be happy to do it in any way."

Chan thinks about it for a moment. "Yeah, there might be a way... but for now let's enjoy this food, alright? I know this has been a lot."

So the next hour goes more smoothly, making Chan laugh with dad jokes and ridiculous puns, but at least he is distracted enough and, for the first time in a while, he feels like his preoccupations doesn't exist. He's just living the moment and having a good time.

When it gets too late, though, he walks with you to a place near where you live and says goodbye, thanking you for hearing him and making him feel better this night, and promising he'd visit the cafeteria soon. You give him your number, with the excuse of asking him to tell you the way you could help him on that survival show or just talk to him whenever he needed to, thing he appreciated.

Chan waves his hand goodbye with a big smile on his face and his heart beating fast.

You don't hear anything from Chan for a couple of days, until you get a text message in the middle of the night. You quickly open it, your heart racing as you read the beginning of the message; Chan apologizing for texting you so late and telling you that a new episode of his survival show is coming out in the evening, and that he has seen on social media that some fans will be sending messages of support and sharing petitions to get Minho and Felix back into the group, so he extends the invitation to you to help, which you agree to.

You reply immediately with a "Count on it!" and a separate message inviting him and his friends to stop by the coffee shop on any free day they have, promising to treat them to whatever they want for their hard work.

Truth is you have been catching up on the program and listening to the songs they have posted online, and you were so impressed that it left you wondering how come you didn't hear about them before. They all were really good, talented and you just knew they were all destined to be together.

So in your spare time, in the next weeks, you don't miss the opportunity to watch the show and support through messages on social media, immediately getting friends joining together for the same cause.

You keep exchanging texts with him from time to time, some days you talk for hours, some others you only get to send just a few messages due to the busy schedules, but you have been consistent and have managed to keep a good communication, and you'd say you're good friends now.

He visits you on the cafeteria on his free time, and every time you see him cross that door with a shy smile on his face, you immediately feel nervous. You know why, you know yourself, you know your feelings, but decide to put them aside for now. It's better this way, right? With all of the pressure Chan has been feeling lately, the only thing you can do best now is offer him your friendship and support.

The smile that appears on your face every time Chan visits the cafeteria is raising suspicions among your friends. As soon as he steps inside the place, you feel a tickling in your stomach, your hands feel shaky, but you manage to walk to his table and greet him.

"Hey, how have you been?" You sweetly ask, leaving a blueberry muffin in front of him.

Chan smiles and thanks you, "I actually came with great news! Are you free now?"

You think taking five minutes won't hurt anyone, and you have been waiting for news so you decide to take a seat next to him and listen to what he has to say. "Go on, what is it?"

He can't hide his big smile, the beautiful dimples his cheeks have and that glow on his face, it's a big difference from the last time you saw him, and that makes you feel happy as well. He starts explaining that J.Y. Park let them prepare a performance with Felix and Minho for the finale, since they heard the audience's opinion and will deliberate if the group is going to debut with or without them, and the audience will be a big help for that.

"Wait, that's is awesome!" You say, not trying to hide your happiness. "It's so obvious everyone will want them back in the group, they're coming back for sure!"

"I know, I know, although I try not to get my hopes high because he can change his mind last minute or change everything up, you know? I just don't wanna get disappointed..."

"Chan, I know you will debut together, trust me, and trust your friends, alright? Have faith in the future. That man will make the right choice."

Chan nods, becoming more and more convinced, more confident and happy. Maybe you were right, even if his mind reminded him that he shouldn't get his hopes too high, the truth is that he wanted so much to believe that the best would come.

"Come on, let me buy you something to drink, okay? Relax a little, think positive! I'll be right back."

With everything that has been going on, Chan has been involved in so much work, so many rehearsals, so many talks and so much stress, that he hasn't stopped to think about how he feels. Of course, he has been talking to you for a couple of weeks and has found your advice very helpful, just being there for him when he needs it is just amazing and so meaningful to him. The one thing he has been trying to avoid is thinking why every time you two talk, he can't help but feel his heart racing, he can't help but smile every time he gets a text from you during the day to remind him to eat and take a break from time to time, and to let him know about your day to day to distract him during difficult times. Chan has noticed that talking to you brings him an incredible calm that he really needs and has had so many questions on his mind that he still can't find an answer to.

Maybe it's better this way for now, he thinks, he'll just let things flow.

Finally, the day has come. To say Chan was feeling nervous was an understatement, he was getting his make up done while reviewing the notes he made on his phone for the finale. Jeongin and Seungmin are rehearsing, Changbin and Jisung are talking and probably giving tips to Hyunjin, he has been struggling a lot because of the nervousness but they are reassuring him he will do perfect tonight.

Felix and Minho are the ones who look the most nervous, practicing the choreography in front of the big mirror and then singing together. Chan gets closer to them once his make up and hair is done, patting their shoulders and giving them advice, but most importantly, he reminds them what they're capable of and how far they've gotten.

"You got this, you know? Once we perform together, it's gonna be like that for a long, long time, alright? 8 is fate!" He says, and walks away with the rest of them as they were finally given the cue to leave backstage. Everyone says comforting words to everyone before start.

You, on the other hand, didn't get the chance to be in the venue, but didn't think twice to watch it on your phone.

"Has it started yet?" Your friend says as she puts on her apron and gets closer to you in an attempt to look at the screen.

"In a few minutes." You smile and take a seat on an empty chair. "Thanks for covering for me."

"It's okay, whatever helps you to go out with that guy." She jokingly murmurs.

"What are you talking about?" You say, surprised.

"Oh, please, ______, don't play the fool, I've seen you drool over him every time he stops by. Why else would you hype him up so much and help him out with his show?"

"Cause he's a good friend!"

"Yeah, right, maybe a friend you wanna-"

"Hey!"

"...You wanna go out on a date with. God, see? You're just proving my point." She giggles and walks to the door. "I'll tell you if we need help, and keep me updated, alright? Good luck."

The show starts and your heart starts racing. You notice immediately there are a lot of fans in the venue, holding banners, screaming to the top of their lungs and supporting all of the members of the group. The MC starts the show by making a introduction about how far they've come and how J.Y.Park is going to evaluate and deliberate whether they stay with or without Minho and Felix.

As soon as a number pops up on the screen you immediately write it down, since is the way they're going to receive the fans' votes. Luckily, your friend lend you her phone to send messages too, so you don't hesitate to start, and also posting on your media to help out as well.

A few weeks ago you wouldn't even thought you were going to be doing this, but it's been a long time since you were so dedicated to any band or artist, so getting the passionate experience of being a dedicated fan again is really nice.

As soon as the stages start you feel so happy and so highly strung, but you had nothing to worry about since they were doing amazing. The feedback they were getting was great although there were some things missing due to the nervousness they must be feeling as well. Over all, they were giving amazing performances and you felt really happy for them.

When Minho and Felix finally make their appearance it's when the fans gather and start sending their votes. The group makes an amazing performance of Hellevator that shows off their hard work, and the fans doesn't get behind when the MC announces a mid-results revelation of the votes, showing that 96% of the people who casted their vote, want Stay Kids with no members left behind.

Everyone is shocked, yes, but not because they didn't know the fans obviously wanted those results; but they thought the gap would be wider. That only increased their hopes and made Jinyoung know what his priority should be when making a final decision.

After a few performances more, with some clips of the guys preparing for this very moment, the time has finally come to know what does the future hold for them. It's a big moment. The members who were eliminated on previous challenges are on the center of the stage. It's a tense moment, especially since the MC is repeating himself and keeping the suspense.

Once Jinyoung starts talking everyone listens carefully, but at some point Chan stops listening. He feels so disconnected for a moment there, he feels incredibly nervous, shaking, just hoping for the best. You are at the edge of your seat, hands shaking as well; your friend has come to check on you a few times and every time she entered the room she just saw you more and more anxious. But the results are finally here; you both just feel an amazing feeling once you hear the long-awaited: "Congratulations, Stray Kids will be 8 members."

You jump off your seat and your friend enters the room almost running, and giving you a hug after seeing the expression of victory and happiness on your face.

"Hey, I'm so glad everything worked out for them! Don't you think we should prepare something special for them? Ask them to come any day and we'll see."

You don't think it twice, and immediately send Chan a text message, firstly congratulating him for this great outcome, and inviting all of them to celebrate in the cafeteria. To your surprise, he replies a few minutes after the broadcast ends.

Thank you so so much for your support, _____

I don't think I could've gone through all of this without your help!

And thank you for this invitation, is tomorrow a good day? We'd be happy to come by, x

So with the butterflies in your stomach and tinted cheeks, you confirm him, willing to do your best for their visit.

When they enter the coffee shop, they notice the decorations and smile, tons of ballons in red, black and white, a banner that reads 8 is fate, and a special brew on the menu named after them.

Chan greets you with a hug and whispers a sincerely thank you, "You did this all yourself?"

"Yeah, well, I got a little help from my friends of course. They also became fans of you, so we all prepared this for you, guys. Do you like it?"

"It's amazing, I swear, thank you!" He says, still looking around in awe. "Let me introduce you to the guys, alright?"

So you approach the table where they have taken seat, some of them taking pictures and thanking the workers for this. Chan clears his throat for everyone to listen to him.

"Guys, there's someone I'd like you to meet," He shyly says, turning to face you. "This is ____, I met him here a few weeks ago and has helped me a lot, but you know this already. Also, a big fan of ours ever since."

You smile and wave at them, to which Felix sweetly smiles at you: "We've heard a lot about you, _____! It's great to finally meet you. Channie hyung has talked about you for a long, long time, I thought you were his boyfriend."

Everyone laughs and agrees with him, making Chan turn red.

"Oh, really? Well, it's a shame he hasn't asked me out yet, I've been waiting a long while." You respond, making them boo at Chan for not doing it earlier.

Without saying more, you go back to the kitchen to start preparing the beverages and pastries along with your friends, and after giving them to the guys with more congratulations and thanks, Chan grabs you by the hand and looks at you, serious. "Can we talk for a minute?"

You nod, suddenly feeling dizzy. You guide him to the staff area and pretend not to be nervous, even though your legs feel shaky.

"What's up, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, this is awesome, again, thank you so much for this, but uhm... I wanted to ask you about... you know, earlier." He scratches the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. "I'll just ask; did you mean what you said? About me asking you out?"

You swear you feel your heart stop for a moment, but gather up the courage to answer: "Yes, I meant that." You chuckle at Chan's reaction, who seems to be in shock. "Honestly, you can't blame me. You're just an amazing person, and meeting you has been the highlight of my life, no joke. However, if you only intend to be friends with me, that's alright. I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable around me or make you feel pressured, I just wanted to let you know that I like you."

Chan smiles and doesn't hesitate to give you a tight hug. He feels his heart beating fast, but at the same time he feels this ease. He's so glad to hear that from you.

"Thank god I wasn't the only one feeling this way." He murmurs and separates from you. "I couldn't wrap my head around it, especially since I was going through that difficult moment, but last night I just confirmed my suspicions. When I got that text from you, there was nothing else I could think of but coming here to you, to tell you I like you. I like you too, and I am so glad to hear you do too."

The biggest smile appears on your face, and you swear you could melt from the warmth and comfort you were feeling right now. You hugged Chan again, feeling incredibly lucky.

After a moment of just hugging and feeling this calm, you look at him in the eyes, "So... Is it okay if I ask you out?"

He giggles and hides his face with his hands, "I can't believe this is happening. Yes, of course yes. I'd love to go out with you."

You can't help but giving him another big hug, hiding your face on the crook of his neck and smelling his sweet smell along with the coffee.

Chan smoothly moves his hands on your back and pulls you a bit closer, "Thank you for staying by my side this whole time. And for making me feel like I was not alone."

"Happy to, I'm glad things turned out this way." You murmur and separate a bit, his face right in front of you, his breath against your lips and his eyes fixed on yours, "So, would you like more coffee?"

Chan giggles, seeing you got nervous, but then he gives you a small kiss on your cheek. "Of course. Let's go."

#kpop x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x m!reader #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #bang chan x male reader #bang chan x reader #chan x male reader #skz fluff

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shadeysprings · 1 year

Text

Fabled Memories

—Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: You wake up one evening, battered and bruised, but have no recollection of how it came to be.

Warnings: implied kidnapping, basement wife vibes, amnesia & character death. There may be more, but remember that this is a dark fic, so please tread carefully.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Week Three Challenge: Something New and the trope I chose was Amnesia and Basement Wife. I've always wanted to write something that had the basement wife element and the thoughts just kept brewing. Plus, I've been antsy to write Steve again.

p.s. I may turn this into a mini-series.

Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support content creators! And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

The silence that fills the cafe is a welcome respite after dealing with the onslaught of impatient customers during the morning rush hour. It’s already half past eleven when you glance down at your watch, taking it as a cue to wipe down on the counter and fill the machine with the coffee beans to prepare for the second wave of patrons for the lunch rush.

While stacking the display case with pastries and sandwiches alike, you hear the bell chime and recite on instinct your customer service spiel.

“I hope I can trouble you for a cup.” The familiar voice echoes in your ears and you look up, surprised to see Steve Rogers on the other side, smiling at you when your eyes meet.

“You’re early today, Captain.” You tell him and immediately make quick work of his usual order; a brewed coffee with two sugars and one cream. “You don’t usually stop by til after noon.”

“Yeah—well, Tony called in for a meeting today.” He huffs his response, propping his hand on his waist while the other rests on the counter, fingers drumming against the marble surface. “Wanted to discuss something about proper etiquette for the gala this coming Friday.”

That makes you snort, Steve looking at you curiously when you snap the lid on the cup and place it down on the counter. He looks at you expectantly and you shake your head instead, standing by the register to ring up his order.

“What is it?” He urges, though gently, amusement painting on his face as he keeps his eyes on you. “You’re laughing at what I said.”

“I’m not laughing.” You say in defense but the Avenger only raises an eyebrow in question. So you cave, “It’s just funny thinking Mr. Stark would be talking about proper etiquette when the videos scattering online suggests otherwise. No offense to him though.”

He laughs and so do you. “No offense taken, doll. Even Sam thinks the same.” The pet name still puts you off but you’ve gotten used to it over the year of making him his coffee. He slides a hundred to you after giving him his total and you count up his change. “Oh, you keep the change. You should know by now that I don’t take it.”

“I—” You stare at the bills in your hand before looking back at him. “But this is a little too much, Captain. I couldn’t possibly—”

“Of course you can. It’s a tip and you deserve it.” He smiles and takes the paper cup from the countertop, raising it up to you. “You make my coffee better than any of Stark’s fancy cappuccino machines and besides, I want to help you get that car you wanted.”

“Oh—you remembered that?”

“How can I not?” He leans closer. “You kept talking about it and the way your eyes sparkled when you did just told me that you wanted it so bad.”

You chuckle and give him a smile. “I already got it actually. My husband—he got it for me as an anniversary pr—Oh god!”

You gasp and take a sudden step back when his coffee bursts in his hand, immediately making your way to the back to grab the mop and walking to where he stands to clean up the mess. But your eyes widen and you feel an unexpected chill run up your spine when you see the discarded paper cup on the floor, crushed.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve apologizes in a rush, waving him off when he tries to take the mop from you. “I guess I didn’t know my own strength.” He blurts out and you try to keep your cool as you busy yourself with the task, picking up the cup from the ground and heading back to the counter to discard it in the bin.

“It’s alright.” You breathe, trying to keep the growing nervousness at bay. “Accidents happen. Let me make you a new one. On the house.” You tell him and quickly turn to make a fresh cup before he could even say anything.

The comfortable silence from earlier turns a new leaf, feeling an uncertain tension building around the both of you and making you move at a measured pace. You feel Steve’s eyes burning the back of your head and you fight to dismiss the unease, convincing yourself that it was indeed an accident. The serum couldn’t be that perfect, right?

“You never mentioned you were married.” His tone is calm yet somewhat accusatory, your fingers shaking as you add the sugar to the brew. “I never even saw you wearing a ring.”

“I—I’m not allowed to wear it during my shift.” You explain matter of factly, forcing a smile when you snap the lid and turn to face him. “Sanitation and all.”

“I see,” He nods and takes the cup when you hold it out to him, his fingers brushing against yours, lingering before he pulls away. “Well, your husband is one lucky bastard to have a pretty thing like you as his wife.” You can’t help the blush that creeps up your neck from the compliment.

You look to the door when the bell suddenly chimes, several of the working class customers lining up behind Steve while they look up at the menu to decide on their order.

“I guess I should let you go.” His serious tone is gone, replaced by a cheerful one yet you feel that his words mean so much more than just leaving the cafe. “I’ll see you around, doll.” He says with finality with another of his friendly smiles before turning to leave but not without the customers stopping to ogle him as he walks past the door.

You don’t see Steve for a week and you don’t want to admit it but you find his absence a relief. Your last encounter with him was awkward, something unusual for he seems to always be cool and collected when he comes over and gets his usual order. You’d dare to even say that the both of you are more than acquaintances with how much you’ve shared with each other while he waits for his coffee.

Even Caleb, your husband, is jealous that you get to meet the great Captain America—with him being a fan of the Avengers like they were movie stars. It did give you the idea of asking Steve if he could meet your husband, a small surprise you’re planning for his coming birthday. Though you’ll wait til he comes back and you just hope that by then, the tension between the both of you has completely subsided.

“Hey there, I’m looking for a pretty girl who works here. Answers to ‘my love’ and sometimes ‘Mrs. Stinky Butt.’” You turn your head as you lock the shop doors, laughing at Caleb's commentary before smiling when you see the bouquet of sunflowers nestled in his arms.

“I think she prefers ‘my love’ more, Mr. Stinky Butt.” You retort and greet your husband with a hug, humming softly when he plants a soft kiss on your lips and wraps an arm snuggly around your waist. “What are the flowers for?” You ask before leaning over and taking a whiff of their scent.

“Well, it has been a while since you did a closing shift and I know how tough it can be,” He begins, “So—I thought of a night full of activities to pamper my gorgeous wife so you can start your day tomorrow fully relaxed.”

You hum in thought while walking with him to your car. “I’m listening.”

“Okay, so the flowers were first and it has already succeeded.” He says proudly and you chuckle at the wide grin he gives you. “There is a delicious take out dinner waiting for you at home—”

“Number Nine?” You ask in anticipation.

“The very one,” He confirms and you bounce in excitement before urging him to continue. “I also got us some face masks we can indulge in and we can end the night with popcorn and a movie of your choosing.”

“Even the sappy romantic ones?”

“Especially the sappy romantic ones.” Caleb says and you quickly wrap your arms around him tightly, feeling your heart grow full with love for the man you call your husband. “Whoa—hug attack!” He exclaims and you laugh when he wraps his arms around you just as tight and spins you around.

“Thank you, Babe.” You breathe when he sets you down, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the night breeze surrounds the both of you. “You’re the best.”

“No. You are—” He retorts before nuzzling his nose against yours. “And the best only deserves the best.”

You watch the scenery of the night as you stare out the window, unconsciously lifting the flowers to your nose to take in their scent once again. A smile kisses your lips when you feel Caleb’s hand rest on your thigh but wonder why they feel tense. Slowly, you reach down and take his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles before turning in your seat to face him.

“You have your seatbelt on, baby?” He asks, his voice strained as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Tell me you’re strapped in. Please.” He urges.

“I am—” You answer, feeling nervous when he only gives you a quick glance before turning back to face the road. “Is something wrong?” The way his grip tights around the wheel has your heart beat spiking. “Caleb?”

“I’m going to tell you something but you have to promise me that you won’t freak out, okay?” His voice is calm yet you can tell he’s nervous all the same. “Promise me, babe. I need you to stay calm and listen carefully.”

“I promise.” You choke out, your hand tightening on his fingers. “I’ll be calm.”

“Okay—I need you to call 911 and tell them we’re at the freeway on 71.” He starts, “Tell them that you’re in the car with your husband and that the breaks are not working.”

“What?!” You gasp and drop the flowers to the floor. “Caleb—wh-what happened?! What—why?”

“Babe, calm down. You promised me.” He coos, turning your hand in his before pulling it to him and pressing the back of your palm against his cheek. “Now, breathe for me, baby. Breathe then get your phone and make the call. And you have to tell them we’re running 80 miles.”

“Okay.” You nod, swallowing thickly as you try to quell your fear. “Okay.” With your free hand, you grab your clutch on the center console and take out your phone. Your fingers begin fidgeting as you dial the number as fast as you can, your knee bouncing as you wait for the responder to answer.

But fear encapsulates you in a tight cocoon, suffocating you when no one picks up. You try again, and again, but you still end up with the same result.

“Why is no one answering?!” You say in a panic and look over at Caleb, his eyes focused and his face only illuminated by lights from the lamp posts.

“Fuck!” He grunts and releases your hand, looking around after before facing the road. “Get out of your seat, babe, and I want you to go to the back and strap yourself in.” He instructs.

“But Ca—”

“No questions, babe. Just do it. Please.” He almost begs and you nod, quickly unbuckling your seat belt before climbing to the back and strapping yourself in once again. “Tell me once you’re done.”

“I’m buckled in.” Your voice quivers as you look ahead, whispering a silent prayer to the heavens. “What are we going to do?”

You hear the car rev before it starts to lose control, Caleb gripping tight on the wheel as he tries to center it on the road. You let out a scream when the car goes off road, several vehicles honking and swerving to get out of the way. Darkness completely shrouds the car as you enter, what you hope is a grassy field, a shriek escaping your lips when you hit a wired fence.

You try to focus on Caleb’s eyes on the rear view mirror, trying to look for a semblance of hope that you both will be okay. But when he meets yours, you see the fear looming in his blue irises.

Desolation suddenly washes over you when he no longer looks ahead, keeping his eyes on your face. You see him reach for you and you do the same, grasping his hand tight like a lifeline. But your heart shatters when you see the tear that escapes him, one that you mirror as you feel him silently bidding you goodbye.

“I love you so much, babe.” He whispers. “I’m so darn lucky to have met you.”

“Caleb—” You croak as you try to wipe your own tears. “What are you saying? We’ll be okay, right?” You whimper before looking around to try and see if anything would save the both of you yet all you see is nothing.

Before you can turn to face him again, wanting nothing but to look at him if this was indeed the end, a loud bang echoes through the open and you jolt forward, crying loudly and screaming when your head slams roughly against the ceiling of the car. You feel the vehicle turn over, rolling uncontrollably into the void until everything stops and goes dark.

The bright, white light glares harshly against your eyes when you open them, squinting as you groan and move against the bed you lay on, trying to decipher where you are. A soft beeping sound plays on your left, and an IV drip hangs on your right, to which you find connected to you, along with several other contraptions.

You have no recollection of what happened before you woke up, not even an inkling of how you ended up in the hospital room. You don’t even know what time or day it is, the window in the far right side of the room being the only source to tell you it’s night time.

Pain then rushes through your body as you try to sit up, seeing your left leg elevated by a sling that hangs from the ceiling and feeling a bandage wrapped around your head when you lift your hand to try and ease the ache hammering in your temples.

Panic quickly consumes you as you as questions fill your head. Why are you in bandages? Why are you here? Where the hell are you? The beeping at your side starts growing frantic, and you along with it, your heart beating faster and your hands clenching into fist against the white sheets of the bed, and all at once screaming for help, crying for anyone to come to your aid.

The door to the right suddenly opens and you stop when you see a blond man enter. Worry fills his face and you see his eyes brimming with tears as he walks over to you, only stopping mid way when you hold your arms out and try to push yourself against the pillow and away from him. But such actions don't deter the stranger, only having them push on and sit at the edge of the bed, his movements slow and gentle as he reaches over and caresses the side of your face.

“Thank God, you’re awake.” He chokes out a sob before taking both of your hands in his and pressing them to his lips. “I was so worried. The doctor said it might be months before you ever woke up.” He opens your closed fist and carefully places them on his cheek, leaning against your touch.

You study his face, his golden hair looking messy and his face in obvious distraught as his forehead wrinkles when his sapphire eyes meet yours. The sleeves of his black sweater are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the strength he possesses. You feel like you’ve seen him before but you can’t place it, all sense of knowing seemingly lost as you don’t even recall anything about yourself.

“Wh—who are you?” You ask, frowning when you see the shock form on his face.

“I—” He struggles to speak, his eyes closing as he squeezes your hand. “You don’t remember me?”

“I—I’m sorry—” You mumble. “I—I don’t—should I?”

“The doctors said this would happen but I was skeptical.” You see the tears flow from his eyes and you feel a pang of pain deep in your chest upon seeing his sadness. “But don’t worry, hon. We’ll get through this.” He says with surety before opening his eyes and facing you once again. “We can start small—your name.”

He says a name and tells you that it’s yours. You feel unsure but you latch onto his words, desperate to know more.

“I’m Steve Rogers.” He says next, lacing his fingers with yours. “And I’m your husband.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

#steve rogers #navy and roo's sleepover #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #captain america #dark captain america #dark fic #fabled memories #au #mcu #shadeyspring fics

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whatisreggieshortfor · 11 months

Text

Obaasan

Bokuto x gn!reader

You just wanted to save up money before you finished high school.

Working the register at a convenience store should’ve been fairly easy, pretty straightforward.

Customers got annoyed about prices, you stood your ground that you didn’t set them and offered no discounts.

Sometimes their attitudes got to you.

But days like today made you feel like you were in the right place.

You had been ringing up an older woman- a regular you adored because she was the definition of sweet- the line behind her growing, when she suddenly tried to grab onto the counter as she got dizzy. Snapping forward, you dropped the items in your hands in favor of catching hers. You couldn’t get around the counter to assist without letting her go, many disrespectful patrons complaining about how they had to wait, when you caught sight of boys you knew from school, “Akaashi-San! Bokuto-senpai! Could you please give me some assistance?”

The old woman still had apologies spilling off her tongue as the two of them came forward- Akaashi began to offer his arm to her when Bokuto opted to scoop her off her feet. Akaashi tried to scold him, tell him it was inappropriate because he hadn’t even asked permission to touch her let alone pick her up- but you were already speaking to the woman.

“Obaasan, I’m gonna keep all of your things right back here, okay? Do you think you could ask your neighbor to come buy them for you later?” Her neighbor was a nice boy, you were pretty sure you’d seen him around school but never spoken outside of the store.

“You don’t need to do that.” Bokuto noisily, but politely, cut in, big grin on his face, “I can buy her stuff and make sure she gets home okay.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, young man.” She offered, the four of you were essentially ignoring the annoyed customers in line.

“It’s no trouble! Just let me…” Bokuto paused, shifting a little bit before pouting at his teammate, “Akaashiiiii, I can’t reach my wallet without setting her down.”

“I am not reaching into your pocket, Bokuto.”

“But Akaashiiiiii-“

Your eyes widened, you knew what was coming as the tips of his hair started to deflate, “I can do it for you, Bokuto.”

“L/N, you really don’t have to-“

“Really? Thanks!” Bokuto cut Akaashi off, turning toward you so you could reach across the counter.

But you should’ve let him finish whining to Akaashi.

Because on assumption you shifted his bag out of the way and reached into the pocket of his sweats.

And then his face turned red, “L/N- my, uh, my wallet is in my bag.”

Recoiling like you’d been burned, you shooed them away from the counter, shoving the bags into Akaashi’s arms, “On second thought I’ll just ring it up for the manager as a tab! Just send your neighbor over to pay the bill when you can, Obaasan!” You ushered them out the door, your face on fire, but you only had a moment for self pity before the grumbling line made their annoyance known.

When you got to school the next morning, you had marginally forgot about your accidental groping of the volleyball team’s star player.

At least until you saw him on the way to lunch.

You immediately spun around, trying to avoid the conversation, what was he even doing here? This is the second year hallway!

“L/N!” His voice called, of course someone his height could find you in the crowd. “Wait!”

Heaving a breath, you halted your steps, there was no point in trying to avoid or outrun him. He definitely had a physical advantage over you, and his best friend was in your class. There would be no escape. It was better to just deal with the awkwardness. Let him yell at you- or whatever someone as genuinely nice as him would do.

So you stood, waiting for him to catch up- and it seemed like it only took him three steps to make it to your side.

“Is your grandma okay?”

Your face screwed up in confusion, your grandmother? How did he know your grandmother? “Uh, she’s fine? I mean i haven’t spoken to her since Sunday dinner and it’s Friday now but-“

“Wasn’t she at the store last night?” His gold eyes were wide, confusion and curiosity mixing, but you finally understood what he meant.

“Oh! Oh, no! She wasn’t-“ you laughed, “Obaasan isn’t my grandma. She’s just a regular at the store, sometimes on my days off I’ll help her around the house. She only lives like a block from me. She’s kind of… my grandma who’s not my grandma? Does that make sense?”

Bokuto laughed, as long and loud as he usually did, “I get it- she was really nice! Kept talking about how sweet you are when I was helping her home.”

Why did his ears turn red?

“She likes to embellish,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the embarrassment of her clearly trying to set you up.

“Bokuto-San.” Akaashi approached from his classroom, “Did you remember to give it to them?”

“Oh! Right!” He pulled an envelope and a container out of his bag, “She wanted me to give this to you, since we’d see you today. The money for her shopping, and some cookies she wanted you to have.”

“Oh, no way! Her cookies are legendary!” You nearly crushed the container to your chest before you caught yourself, “Would you guys like to… share them with me?”

“I’m okay, thank you L/N-san. Bokuto, you go ahead. I’ll see you at practice.”

Bokuto flushed deeper as Akaashi waved, walking away before the spiker could stop him.

When the regular came in again, she had Bokuto with her. “Y/N! Sweetie, your boyfriend has been so helpful.”

“My- HUH!?” You’re face erupted, befuddlement filling you.

Bokuto pouted at her, even as she hugged his arm to walk, “I told you I haven’t confessed yet!” His eyes widened, “I mean- not that I would- no, I mean- dang it!”

“Language, mago.” She sternly tapped his hand, “And you promised you would! It was why I gave you the cookies!”

He swiftly guided her down an aisle, but didn’t take into account how his voice traveled, “I know, I know, but we were finally actually talking! I couldn’t do it. People don’t… people think I’m too much.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. You are a catch. The right person will know that, just as your friend does.” You could hear her soothing voice over the quiet music your manager played through the store, “You need to take the chance- just as you do in that sport you play! You told me about taking the risk to perform a dump, right?”

“But that’s different.” Bokuto argued, “Volleyball is what people expect of me. Outside of that, I’m just the loud idiot.”

“No, you aren’t.” You heard something fall, rounding the corner to see him stacking boxes back on a shelf before you continued, “Bokuto-senpai, you may be loud, but you’re also empathetic. Kind. Compassionate. You helped Obaasan when all the other customers just complained that she was holding them up. That’s so much more important than whether or not you understand what an inside voice is or if you need a tutor. Academics can be hard, but it doesn’t discount the kind of person you are.”

Your neighbor patted his hand again, “Take the risk, dearie. I think you’ll realize it’s worth it.”

“Yeah… maybe it is.” Bokuto gave you a shy smile, shyer than you knew possible for him.

Obaasan was one smooth woman.

Masterlist

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader

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fuck-customers · 10 months

Note

I lost my cool and legit yelled at a customer today, for the first time in maybe ever (been in retail 6.5 years now). And I’m not even gonna get in trouble because my manager’s amazing.

So first some background: five months ago, corporate took out 6/8 of our registers and gave us 4 self-checkouts (henceforth abbreviated to SCO), leaving us with only two real registers. Also, today I had about five full carriages worth of clearance to put price stickers on as a side task.

So this lady comes up with her kid (kid never said a word, I pass no judgement on her) and says “what, are there no registers open?” but dripping with attitude, a running theme throughout everything she says to me. I’m busy with the clearance, so trying to gently direct people to use SCO so I can keep working on that, so I say “if you’re using SCO, there are four” because no one else was up front. She’s like “where’s the SCO?” and I say “the big white things” and point to the one directly in front of her. Then it’s “I didn’t know you had SCO” “that’s why we’ve got the signs up there” and point to the signs above her head.

And now I guess I’ve pissed her off for not apologizing because she can’t be bothered to use her eyes and brain together. She starts telling me I have a DiSgUsTiNg attitude, and that I seem miserable. Which is when I start yelling, that I AM miserable because I’m SICK. (I always wear a fabric mask at work, but I double-masked today, wearing a medical-grade one under the fabric mask.)

So then she starts going on about how I should be home if I’m sick, and I tell her I have been all week but no one could cover this shift for me (I’m also mostly better now, just occasionally coughing up the leftover junk in my lungs). And she doesn’t wanna hear it, because god forbid I be an actual person and not a retail robot.

(I don’t do well with confrontation, so by this point I’m physically shaking.)

So then she wants a manager. So on the walkie talkie I’m like “[Store Leader] I need you at the front Right Now”. She’s great, all the managers are great, so she hurries up front and takes over. The lady’s now saying she has cash and can’t use the SCO (never mentioning cash before that). So S takes her on a real register while I keep tagging the clearance. And the lady’s telling her my attitude was DiSgUsTiNg, like actually emphasizing it in a way even S was making fun of after. And saying her daughter shouldn’t have to see that on her birthday. (My brain when I heard that: Bitch, you’re the one who STARTED all this by being a cunt for no fucking reason).

But so S finishes up and gets her out, and by then two other managers, L and B, had come up to see what was happening, because they’d heard my yelling and my plea for S to come up right away. As S was ringing the lady up, she asked for my name, which S did give her, but when she and I were telling L and B about what had happened, S said “yeah if she complains to the district manager it’s whatever, he always checks with me about employee complaints”. And S straight up said that if he does call to check about a complaint, she’ll say “oh that’s so weird, OP’s one of my friendliest cashiers [true, my name literally means happy and I am quite the embodiment of it], I can’t imagine she’d do something like that”.

I very much do not recommend trying this course of action, but damn does it feel amazing to be so well backed up by my managers ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

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siconetribal · 10 months

Text

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 7

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Jason is in BIG trouble now, Y/N has decided on who she is strangling, Gotham's greatest detectives at work, RIP mop

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Citlalli noticed the slight droop in her friend’s shoulders. She looked defeated, something rare and it hurt. There was no time to comfort her though, the line of customers growing. The two of them ran back and forth between the register and machines, cranking out the orders as best they could. Jason’s name was one of the first few called, so he made his way over to the pick up station and grabbed the complicated order topped with whip cream and colored foam. Wrinkling his nose at it, he called out a small thanks before making his way back to his seat. The gazes of the other customers hardly bothered him. He was used to being looked at, either out of attraction as Jason Todd or fear as the infamous Red Hood.

Where do I find IAmBatman? She logs in at night at that lounge, but who knows what time she’ll actually get there? I have to go out on patrol tonight too. Even if I was free, what’s my plan? Sit here all day drinking coffee until they close? I didn’t bring my laptop, I can’t log in myself to see when she logs in. There’s no way I’m sitting in that lounge all day! I game, but I’m not going to sit there like some creepy stalker loser jumping at the chime of the door. They’d call the cops on me for sure. He glared at his cup, slowly turning it in place. There had to be something he could do. Something he was missing. It has to be right in front of me, I’m just not seeing it. He sighed, ruffling the front of his hair before taking another sip. “I hate to say it, but I should probably ask Grayson for some advice. He came up with the IP idea and that at least got me closer.” He muttered and slouched in his seat. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes for a brief moment to shut out the world around him. You’re one step closer, Todd, one step closer. Even if I did see her, what did I plan on doing or saying? I’ll come back on a night when I'm free.

Finishing the last of his drink, he tossed the cup and grabbed the two others. He gave a small wave to Citlalli and a nod to Y/N on his way out, thanking them again. The two responded in unison to his gratitude as they continued to crank out the orders. When there was much wanted lull in customers, the two flopped onto their stools and let out a heavy sigh of relief and exhaustion. Midway through the rush, two other employees had clocked in and came to their rescue.

“Damn, we should’ve paid attention to the time. I didn’t realize it was time for the school to let out! Ai, my poor, poor feet!” Citlalli rolled her ankles.

“We should have some sort of alarm system set up that goes off every Monday to Friday that warns of the teenie bopper tidal wave.” Y/N rubbed her lower back. In all the running back and forth, she had nearly slipped more times than she could count, but there was no time to stop. If there was even one complaint and it just so happened to reach their boss, she shuddered at the thought. I’d never hear the end of it! We’d been stuck here until our next shift!

“You think Mr. B would let us?”

“Doubt it,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “It’d cramp the aesthetic,” she emphasized with air quotes. “Not like we’d have some blaring five alarm bell that would freak the customers out. It’d be something for us back here so we aren’t caught off guard by so many orders at once.”

“Not to mention those stupid mobile orders, custom orders, and don’t even get me started on those bullshit “top secret” menu orders that all those de mierda influencers go on and on about online!” Citlalli fumed, once again falling into rapid Spanish as she cursed the bloggers, vloggers, and internet gurus for coming up with the crazy concoctions that sounded horrendously disgusting at times.

“I know, Cici, I know.” Y/N handed her a glass of cold water to help distract her from the thought. If there was one thing Citlalli hated, it was the obnoxious younger generation that thought the world owed them. She could easily go on for hours about the overly privileged rich kids that were taking over and how ungrateful and undisciplined they were, demanding things to be done right away and perfectly perfect every time. Y/N was no fan of the snobby majority either, but these brats were what paid the bills. If these caffeine addicted wannabe famous elites were what kept the water running, she would just put up with the convoluted orders. Especially now that I have that 4k bill on top of it all. She sighed again. How many tortuous and agonizing drinks would it take to finally start making a dent in that bill?

“Oh, you actually got it! You know, for all your tough guy “I’m not mister nice guy”, you do nice things quite often.” Barbara grinned at his eyebrow twitching in response. “Am I wrong?” She raised one of her own eyebrows before tipping the fancy beverage in his direction as a thanks before leaving the room with a sense of victory while Jason stood there grumbling and muttering under his breath.

“I’m not a nice guy,” he insisted to himself.

“Of course, Master Jason, there is nothing nice about standing in one’s way while they are trying to enter the room.” Alfred’s voice caught him by surprise. It was no surprise that Alfred was a highly capable individual, but to be able to sneak up on any of them and so consistently was unheard of. Not for Alfred Pennyworth.

“Sorry Alfred,” he lightly shook his head and stepped aside.

“Not at all, though there must be something more on your mind to be unable to hear me call for you so many times.” The famous Wayne butler walked into the room, going about his usual tasks.

“Ah, nothing that important.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just some dumb shit. Is Grayson home?”

“Master Richard,” Alfred stopped what he was doing and stared at Jason with the same unreadable expression he always had. “Master Richard stepped out for the moment, I am not certain when he will be returning, but he did state that he would be in time for dinner. Shall I set your place for dinner tonight?” Jason’s initial reaction was to refuse, but he hesitated. He really needed to speak with Dick, and this was the only way to assure that he at least got a hold of the older Robin somehow.

“Yeah, why not? I didn’t have any plans set or food anyway. Thanks, Alfred,” Jason nodded his head.

“But of course, Master Jason. If you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure the right number of seats are prepared.” He lightly bowed his head before exiting the room before Jason. The infamous Red Hood let out a heavy sigh, tousling his hair. This was becoming more and more of a handful with each passing day.

But I’ll get it done, dammit! I’m fucking Red Hood! I track down and capture the most notorious and difficult to capture villains on the daily! Finding one average civilian should not be this difficult!

It was now a proven fact. There was not a single shred of doubt left in Y/N’s mind. That tall, dark, and handsome stranger was a walking debt machine. A walking, talking withdrawal demon in human skin that was sent from the deepest pits of financial hell to make sure she would never see light outside the slums of Gotham. Satan, himself, must be cringing in sympathy at this cruel and unusual torture she was being put through. What made her so sure? Well, a certain cleaning instrument had been sacrificed in the urgent need to warn Citlalli and their boss, who was due to come in today, had become aware of said hecatomb. He was not pleased with this unscheduled offering, and the bill for its replacement would be removed from her paycheck.

I’m going to kill him. This is going on his tab, I’m going to make him pay me back for said dues, and then I’m going to wring his neck until I’m satisfied! She imagined her fingers wrapping around his throat, it would obviously require both from how strong it looked; and shook him violently as his face slowly drained of any color as he begged for her forgiveness.

Citlalli saw the malicious smile that curled on her best friend’s lips and noted how it was creeping out the customers. Not wanting her to get in any more trouble, she firmly slapped her on the back. “Get it together, chica! You’re still on the clock and your batshit crazy look is going to get them complaining to the slave driver!” She hissed in her ear, snapping Y/N out of her little daze.

“Owww, didn’t have to hit me that hard.” She scowled in response, attempting to rub the spot, but of course it was just out of reach for her to self soothe. Just my luck, she glared at her best friend one last time before taking the next ticket. She carefully crafted the complex drink, triple checking the instructions to make sure she had it right before bring it to the pickup counter. “Large iced matcha latte with oat milk, brown sugar, white mocha, and strawberry purée in the sweet cream cold foam for…Paizleigh.” Y/N stared at the order and the customer’s name for a moment. Yup and nope, she looked up at those lingering nearby. “Large iced matcha latte with oat milk for Paizleigh.” She called again before placing the cup down in the area marked for O to R names.

“Hey, is that my drink?” A male customer walked up to the counter.

“This is a large iced matcha latte with oat milk for Paizleigh.” She repeated the information and watched as the gears turned in the teenager’s head. Oh boy, not today. Please, not today!

“OK, but is it mine?” And there was the million-dollar question.

“Is your name Paizleigh?” She asked.

“Uh, no,” he scoffed.

“Then how could it possibly be yours? Are the ears on your head just for show? Did you not just hear me when I said, for the third time, expressly to you, that it’s for someone named Paizleigh?”

“Woah, I was just asking-,”

“Just asking one of the stupidest questions you could ever be asking right now because I literally called this drink out three times, and you know your name is not Paizleigh! Better yet, what was your order, hm? Was it even anywhere close to as complex as this one?”

“Uh, I uh, I just order a medium hot coffee with cream and sugar.”

“Like I thought, nowhere near this,” she pointed to the long ticket sticker with detailed instructions on how to layer all add-ons. “Now that we’ve established just how stupid you are, and I’ve wasted enough time on this, shut up and get back in line until we call your name, which is?”

“So, is it my drink?” The sudden question shattered the little daydream where Y/N was forced to grit her teeth and smile. She let out a heavy sigh. If only she could be so bold. But alas, that would be the day she really wanted to lose this job, which was better than some others she has had.

“What’s your name again?”

“Kevin,” her eyebrow twitched.

“Right, Kevin, this drink is for Paizleigh. So, no, it is not your drink. I’m sure one of the other baristas are working on it right now, and it’ll be out shortly. Thank you for your patience.” She forced herself to let go of the cup before she ended up crushing it, and turned to pull her next ticket. And look at that, the golden Kevin ticket. This is all skunk head’s doing, he’s the living embodiment of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, but just for me.

The quiet dinner that Jason had hoped for was dashed with all the children present with Bruce. It was not unheard of to have dinner as a whole family, but it was pretty uncommon since someone was always busy, namely him. And the one time he decided to show up voluntarily is clearly the day everyone made sure to attend. If this was intentional to spend time, it was heartwarming, but the annoyance easily outweighed the small warm and fuzzy feeling.

I needed to talk to Grayson about the girl, but fucking everyone and their father showed up! Literally our father! He growled in annoyance, beating out his frustration into the crook he caught harassing some pedestrians. At least there are idiots out and active today, I need to vent. He dragged the now unconscious body to a place where the police would spot it before disappearing into the shadows once more. Sitting up on the ledge of his favorite building, Red Hood looked at Magnus. “I know, I know, I need to get it done! It ain’t easy!” It was easier said than done. Since that dinner a few weeks back, it was nearly impossible to find time alone to meet with the first Robin.

“Talking to Mildred again? Are you sure you don’t need to see someone about that?” Nightwing chuckled, appearing from behind the gargoyle.

“The name is Magnus, get it right.”

“Woah, there, I didn’t mean to offend!” The blue crusader put his hands up in surrender. “So, how’d it go?” He grinned, taking a seat beside his younger brother.

“Horrible,” he bluntly answered. “That IP address led me to a gaming lounge! How the hell am I supposed to find her in the middle of the day when she games at night?”

“Seriously, damn, did not see that coming.” The elder Robin muttered, resting his chine on his hand as he considered this new information. “She could be coming into town from anywhere and if she’s really big on gaming, she might be willing to go the extra mile of traveling a longer distance just to play.”

“That just takes me back to fucking square one all over again! I’ll have to stake out the place on a night we’re supposed to game just to see who comes and goes.” Red Hood hung his head.

“You just might have to, that sucks. I was certain the IP address would’ve been a hit! Who knew she was using a gaming lounge.” Nightwing shook his head, feeling sympathetic for his younger brother, when some commotion down below caught their attention. They quickly jumped into action, fighting the criminals that were robbing the jewelry store below.

“Yeah, who would’ve thought they’d have such a place here. I’m surprised it hasn’t been hit by thieves yet. Though, it looks like they’re trying to spruce the place up a bit.” He grunted as he took a hit and swing at his assailant, knocking him flat onto his feet.

“Yeah, there’s been quite a bit of that going on with the new people in office. Can’t say it won’t get dirty.” Nightwing responded as he dodged a hit and landed a kick.“Does it ever stay clean?” Red Hood scoffed. “At least there’s a decent coffee shop where I can keep an eye on the place from. By the way, they’ve got some real interesting staff there. This one employee was really,” Red Hood was cut off by a rather big guy tackling him into the brick wall. The sudden blow jolted his memory a bit, and his mind quickly connected two very obvious dots. Holy shit, she was the barista at the counter!

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me-myself-and-my-fos · 2 months

Text

Be My Valentine?

Pairing: Bernard x Nicole Blake

A/N: It’s still technically Valentine’s Day! So have a short fic of Bernard asking me on our first date! And Happy Valentine’s Day!

Nic poked her head into the kitchen, brown hair frazzled despite its small ponytail. She blew a strand of hair from in front of her face. “We have a quarter of a tray of brownies left! We’re going to need more brownies in the next ten minutes!”

“I got you, Nic!” Jade shouted, pulling a tray of brownies from the rack. They were carried to the front where they replaced the nearly empty tray of brownies, the old being stacked on top of the new. As Jade disappeared back into the kitchen, one of the bakery’s employees, Brad, entered from outside the front.

“Van’s full and ready for the deliveries,” he told Nic, handing her the keys.

She hated driving and making deliveries, but the only other people allowed to drive the company van and make deliveries were either in the kitchen finishing the Valentine’s orders that were expected to be picked up, or on vacation. So she was stuck with the responsibility.

Nic sighed heavily as she clutched the keys. She started to untie her apron. “Think you can handle the front without me?” She asked both him and Bernard, who was scooping chocolate chip cookies into a bag. They both nodded, but Bernard was the one who replied.

“Absolutely. We’ve got this,” he told her.

Nic smiled and reached over to pat him on the arm.

Bernard felt all of the air leave his lungs in the moment her hand connected with him. His face suddenly felt hot and his hands froze in his movement. Nic didn’t even notice his lack of response as she tugged on her jacket and headed for the door.

“Don’t get into too much trouble without me!” Nic jokingly told them as she stepped out of the front door. It shut behind her, the bell ringing as it did.

Even once she was out of sight, his brain wasn’t working. All he could think about was that she touched him. Her hand was on his arm.

An elbow to his ribs pulled him from his train of thought, but his heart continued to flutter. He looked over at Brad who smirked at him as he rang up a customer. It was an open secret in the bakery that Bernard had a crush on Nic. Everyone knew, even the owner. Well, everyone except for Nic. She was somehow oblivious to his feelings, despite the longing gazes he gave whenever she left the room.

“Shut up,” Bernard mumbled, moving to fill the order in the hope it would keep the blush from growing further on his face.

Noon came and Nic had come back from making the deliveries. She rejoined Bernard and Brad in the front, helping them with customers and filing orders. During a lull in service they leaned against the counters and chatted. Brad told them about his plans to propose to his girlfriend during their Valentine’s dinner.

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Bernard asked Nic as she took a big gulp from her water bottle.

She shook her head. “I’m just going to go home and order some Chinese and watch Star Wars. I never have Valentine’s plans.”

“Oh. Never?” He inquired, and Brad hid his smirk behind a bagel. “I just thought, maybe you’d have plans.”

“No, I’m kind of married to work right now. I’m first to come in and last to leave. Same with today, actually.” She pointed to both men. “You two are clocking at four-thirty like everyone else. No buts.”

“And you do this every year?” Bernard asked.

“The last four that I’ve worked here,” she said, stepping up to the cash register as a family came into the bakery. “Now look alive, gentlemen. We have some cookies to sell.”

Nic had just finished sweeping when she heard the door to the bakery open. It was five minutes until normal closing time so she assumed it was a regular customer unaware they closed early. Wiping her hands on her pants, she walked into the front of the bakery.

“Sorry, we’re closed. Come back in the morning–” Nic paused when she looked up and saw Bernard standing in the middle of the bakery.

His hair was combed neatly and he was dressed in a button up shirt. In his hands was a bouquet of red roses. He had an anxious expression as he shifted on his feet. His face shifted to bright red as he looked at her.

“Happy Valentine’s Day?” He greeted.

Nic walked from behind the counter, mouth agape as she stared at him. Bernard held the bouquet out to her. She took it from him gently. “Thank you.” She gave him a shy smile. “What’s this about?”

“Do you want to go to dinner? Together?” He asked her hesitantly.

It took a moment before she could respond, not expecting the words that came from him. She nodded before she could speak. “I’d like that. Um, let me lock up.” She rushed behind the counter to grab her jacket and the copy of the keys to the bakery. “Do you have any ideas of where we’re going to dinner?”

Bernard shook his head, stepping over to help her put her jacket on. “I thought I’d let you pick.”

She smiled at him. “I know a place.” Nic leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bernard.”

#reblogs are appreciated and encouraged #mywriting #otp: frosted cookies #grumpy elf 🎄

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morganofthewildfire · 2 years

Text

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Café Conundrum

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~1.2k words

just something silly i started for class and turned into fanfic haha

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The ringing of the bell on the front door sounded through the small cafe, signaling Aelin’s doom as another customer walked in. Her shift was so close to being over, maybe forty five minutes left, and then she’d be free for the evening. Well, free to go work on her piles and piles of homework from class that morning.

But that was a different issue altogether. Her Doranellian Literature essay weighed heavily on her mind, but she pushed it aside in favor of work.

“Hello!” She said cheerily as the customer walked up to the register, smiling tightly at her as he looked at the menu. He was probably coming right from work, wearing a nice button up shirt and jacket with a loosened tie, a briefcase in his hand. It was about that time of day. “What can I get you, sir?”

He read off his order and she wrote it down on the empty coffee cup, setting it down on the counter before typing in the order on the screen. A hand whipped the cup up from practically right under her, a large body brushing past her to start the order. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to look too put out.

Not in front of the customers.

The man paid quickly and headed down toward the other side of the counter, and she was able to drop her smile.

“What the hell is this supposed to say?” a tense voice said from a few feet away, “I can’t read this chicken scratch.”

Rowan. Her fellow employee, and the bane of her existence.

Aelin pasted a fake smile on her face, turning to look at him. He was frowning, his green eyes blazing. “I’m surprised you even made it to college with that kind of struggle,” she said, “don’t you have to read to be a History major?” He probably legitimately couldn’t read it, she’d always been told her handwriting was bad. But that was his problem, not hers.

Rowan visibly bristled, his silvery brows furrowed. “I can’t make the drink if I don’t know what drink I’m supposed to be making.”

“I wrote down exactly what it’s supposed to be,” she said, with a shrug, turning away from him to grab a towel, idly cleaning the counter in front of her.

“If his drink is wrong, you’re the one he’s going to complain to,” he said, and she frowned, narrowing her eyes. He was right. She was the face of the cafe, the one people moaned and groaned about their problems too, even if he was the one making the drinks.

But still.

Aelin turned sharply on her heel, snatching the cup from him. “Right there,” she said, pointing to her handwriting. “Iced coffee with three pumps of caramel and oat milk. You shouldn’t need my help with this.”

Rowan snatched the cup back with a scowl. “And you should learn to write properly,” he said, heading toward the ice coffee machine to get the drink started. “Don’t you want to be an author?”

His tone was full of disbelief, and she nearly spit. But she kept herself contained, knowing there were still people who could see them. They’d gotten in trouble before for their public arguments. Their boss, Emrys, didn’t exactly approve of them making their workplace a hostile environment, even if they were the only workers. He gave them a lot of grace, given how bad it sometimes got. But even his never failing kindness had to have an end.

“Don’t you ever want to not be an asshole?” Aelin asked under her breath, but loud enough so Rowan could still hear, if the way he clenched his jaw was any indication. It was a tad hypocritical, but that’s just the lengths he drove her to.

He finished making the drink, passing it to the man, and then they went about their own routines silently. She cleaned up her work area, as well as his, and he checked that everything was in stock, heading to the refrigerator in the back whenever something needed replacing.

They worked like a machine, smooth oiled gears and perfect mechanics allowing everything to run as it was supposed to. Their attitudes were the only thing that ever messed it up.

“Can you pass me a new towel?” Aelin asked a few minutes later, when he was fiddling with the espresso machine, the bucket of towels under the counter right where he was standing. But Will didn’t respond.

“I said, can you pass me a new towel?” She repeated, glancing over at him. But he still didn’t even look at her, pretending he was suddenly deaf.

“Can you just pass me a -”

Before she could finish her sentence he was throwing one at her, and it hit her forcefully, making her spill the cup of coffee she’d made for herself. All over her apron.

“What the hell?” She asked, taking it off quickly, and Rowan just shrugged.

“You wanted a towel,” he said, and she saw red.

“You motherfu-” The bell on the door rang again, and she stopped herself mid sentence, forcing a smile back on her face as a woman walked into the cafe, heading right up towards the counter.

Time to get back to work.

-----

“Fuck,” she cursed half an hour later, when her shift was done and she was able to get a good look at the damage the coffee had done to her clothes. It hadn’t remained on her apron, it’d spilled onto her t-shirt and her jeans as well, making everything feel just that little bit too sticky.

Aelin frowned as she clocked out, heading toward the bathroom to properly assess the damage. Rowan’s shift was done too, but he’d stayed behind for a minute to clean the iced coffee machine.

Godsdamned Rowan, she thought as she entered the single bathroom, reaching for a paper towel. Turning on the faucet and getting the towel wet, she began to scrub at her t-shirt, trying to get rid of the coffee stains. She’d get most of it out when she got home to her apartment, but she didn’t want the stain to set before she could throw her clothes in the wash.

He just had to mess with her day just that little bit more.

With a scowl on her face, she continued scrubbing at her shirt, barely noticing as the bathroom door opened.

“Occupied,” she said, but before she could say anything else, she was turned around and pressed against the wall, warm lips pressing roughly against hers.

Aelin gasped into his mouth, but kissed him fervently back. Rowan’s hands went to her waist, dipping under the hem of her t-shirt and she hooked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

They stayed like that for an indeterminable amount of time, their lips sliding against each other, until he pulled back, trailing his lips roughly down her jaw and neck. A sigh escaped her, her eyes fluttering closed.

“You ruined my fucking shirt,” she moaned, and he just nipped at her neck. This had been a somewhat recent development, starting maybe nine months into them working together. Neither of them could help it. Sure - they hated each other - but godsdamned was he attractive.

She’d never been able to deny it, and now they both mutually gave into their desires, while sabotaging the other in every other facet of life.

It was certainly a conundrum, but she wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

“Well,” Rowan said, speaking the words into her sweaty skin. “Come home with me and you won’t need it anymore.”

Aelin’s dark chuckle turned into a gasp as he captured her lips into another kiss. How could she say no to an offer like that?

----

taglist:

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#rowan x aelin #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #rowaelin au #throne of glass au

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

An Unambiguous Love [2/10]: Meeting Munson

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 ::

alternate AO3 link

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Your favourite customers really make it easier returning to the town you never went to school in. If only your friends at work would stop trying to play matchmaker between you.

Chapter 2 word count: 2288

A/N: Thanks for the love on chapter 1! This chapter also introduces my favourite non-shippable character to write, see if you can guess who that is lmao. I'll be updating these daily, thank y'all for sticking with it! <3

It’s the morning after your first shift on the shop floor, and you’re getting yourself ready for your next one this afternoon. You’re really being thrown in at the deep end with a triple threat: new issue day, D&D supply launch day, and your first ever closing shift out on the floor. Thankfully, as long as your schedule still aligns, you’re paired with Ralph, who certainly wouldn’t abandon you no matter how quiet the day may be. You consider getting to the strip mall a little early so that you can perhaps get some extra encouragement from your new friend(? Can you call him that already?) Steve, but you realise that perhaps food is more important. Besides, when you do finally park up, you don’t see him directly in the window anyway. Perhaps he isn’t even working.

You head on in and see an already-exhausted Ralph tidying the comic crates. As you cause the doorbell to chime, Ralph looks at you with a resigned smile. You grit your teeth. “It’s been that bad, huh?”

Ralph shakes his head. “Ahh, it’s helped the time go quicker. Thankfully, we’ve got a little calm period now before the next storm… The after-school rush. Now, I’ll take the register for that, if you could just try and keep on top of keeping things as organised as possible.” You nod and take a deep breath in. Ralph notices and calls, “Hey.” You look up at him and he smiles reassuringly at you. “We’re gonna do great today, alright?” You nod again, more relaxed than your first. Ralph continues, “And I promise I won’t get a random migraine as soon as it’s convenient for me.”

Your eyes widen. “How did - Did Jesse get in trouble? I swear, I didn’t want that to happen, I didn’t mean to squeal -”

Ralph laughs, “Relax, kid.” Bold words from someone only three years older than you. “It didn’t come from the top. Not that Cam would risk having to punish his friend. Word travels fast amongst us here, just a heads up…” He walks over to you to bend down to your ear level and murmur, “Future Mrs Harrington.”

“Okay,” you step aside and hold up a finger while Ralph laughs. “That one, I am nipping in the bud. If a man being nice to someone one time means they’re bound romantically, then I feel sorry for all the women of Hawkins.” Ralph’s laughter intensifies.

The next couple of hours are an absolute flurry of teenage chaos. Comics are being thrown around, as are tantrums over the lack of issue 200. One kid, with curls falling out of his baseball cap, is instead parading around the brand new D&D section proudly, while loudly reassuring his friends that they can read his copy when he is done with it. A red-haired girl asks through stone-cold eyes how he could have possibly gotten a copy early, to which he simply shrugs and says, “I got connections. What can I say? I’ve been telling you all, I basically run this joint.”

The group surrounding him scoffs in disbelief. Remembering the names Steve used yesterday, and putting two and two together, you decide to have a little fun amongst the madness. You tap him on the shoulder, “Sorry, Dustin Henderson?”

He whips around and looks at you like a deer in headlights, swallowing hard. “Y-yes?”

“I take it that our exclusive deal for our most prestiged customer yesterday was to your liking?” you ask, raising your eyebrows slowly, silently willing him to play along.

He shows silent understanding by copying your expression. “Yes! Very much so. You’ll continue to have my patronage for a long time yet. Especially with this new section! I can’t wait to make new characters to use these dice on.” He takes handfuls of them and holds them up gleefully.

You interlock your fingers and place your hands on your heart. “Everyone here is thrilled to hear that you’re satisfied, Mr Henderson. Please, do not be afraid to call on me for any of your needs. I promise, I will deliver to you myself if that is what's needed.” You look around at all the flabbergasted faces of Dustin’s group, then once more at him to catch him mouthing a ‘thank you’ before he turns to face his friends again.

As you walk away, you hear him gloat, “You see? I am the nerd king! Bow down, bitches!” You take extra care in making sure the rest of the kids don’t see you accidentally laughing at the crack in his voice at that last part.

Eventually, things die down a little again, around the time most of the kids are going back home to their parents for dinner. Ralph looks almost completely wiped out, and you frown, “When was the last time you ate?”

Ralph shakes his head. “It’s fine, I told you I’d stay, I’m a man of my wor-”

You interrupt him, “You can’t teach me if you’re passed out. Just go grab a burger and some fries from the diner, as long as you’re back to teach me how to close up, I’ll be fine for a while yet.”

Ralph thanks you profusely as he leaves to go eat. Having to switch between tidying and ringing up really isn’t as bad as you were anticipating. A few angry people demanding certain issues that have already sold out don’t even phase you too much.

As if by fate, you have a split second where it is just you and the stock out on the shop floor. You bask in the silence, the sheer amount of space without so many people crammed in every aisle… And then, in he walks. Grungy style, long dark hair, rings adorning every finger. He makes a beeline for the D&D section, immediately picking up a Player’s Handbook and skimming the pages delightedly. You watch him gleefully explore the store before eventually emptying his arms onto your checkout counter. His vibe is somehow nothing you’d expect from someone with his aesthetic, but also it all seems to… Fit him, somehow. He’s got the book, several dice sets, and a tray. “Just a few things, then,” you muse.

He chuckles, “Yeah, well. My old tray has not been holding well over my last campaign. The Hellfire club sure know how to cause total destructive mayhem even in this realm.”

“Ooh, Hellfire. Sounds official. You guys play for like, any special reason, or…?” You ask, but he shakes his head.

“Nope, I’ve just had waaaaay too much time to run my little old high school campaign. Being held back a couple years sure has its perks!” He takes a long, lingering look at you, and the tip of his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. “Sorry, uh, should probably introduce myself since you’ll probably be seeing me a lot around here now. I'm -”

You cock your head in curiosity, narrowing your eyes and smirking smugly as you figure out who he must be. “Eddie Munson?”

Eddie’s face falls. “Uh-oh. You don't know of Hellfire but you know of me? That can’t be good.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh, no, no, no! I promise it’s nothing bad, I - You helped Steve Harrington create a D&D character here the other day, right?”

The corners of Eddie’s lips twist into a smile, “I don’t think you could quite say that. I certainly tried to, but with little success.”

“Oh, well, yeah, but I - I found the sheet and I got bored so I…” You pull out your sketchbook you’d left tucked in the drawer beneath the counter and show Eddie your drawing.

He takes the book from your hands and starts running around the store, basically pressing his face into it. “Oh my god! This is incredible! And you did that based on what Stevie gave you? Oh, wait until we talk about my current party - Would you do commissions? Could you draw my current party’s characters and then also every one of my NPCs? I need your art to bring this campaign to life, now!”

Your cheeks flush a dark pink. “Oh, well… I’ve never been paid for my work before, and even then, this was just a bit of fun… I even had to get him to pose to get the hair just right since he wanted that in the drawing, too.”

Eddie stops his pacing and returns to you at the counter. He slides the sketchbook back over to you, rests his elbows on the counter and his chin on his fists as he looks to you. “And how much would it cost to have you draw me, then, huh?”

You finally get to talk to him undistracted long enough to get a proper look at his face. His eyes are dark brown, almost black, but not in a cold and uninviting way. His smile is infectious, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he does so. You eventually snap out of your daydream, clear your throat and say, “It wouldn’t be fair to charge you and not Steve… But then technically I didn’t draw Steve himself, just basically him as a half-orc, based on a few things he wrote.”

Stil resting his head on his fists, Eddie gently rocks his head from side to side, “So what’s my D&D alternative?”

“Hmm… You take your pencil out and tap it on your lower lip in thought. “I wanna say… Half-elf fighter who eventually becomes a bard. You got that sort of energy.”

Eddie grins. “Are you sure you haven’t done your research on me? You can’t have just guessed that I’m a musician.”

You gesture up and down in front of you, “I mean, look at you, dude.”

“Touche,” Eddie nods, moving to hold onto the counter with both hands and lean on it. “Yeah, I’ve got a band. Corroded Coffin. We’ve rocked the hell out of venues such as Gareth’s garage…” His tone suggests he’s about to list a number of venues, as does the way he taps one finger with the other, but he trails off after the first while pulling a face to show there’s no more. You laugh, and that goddamn smile of his returns. “Nah, we also have a regular spot, I shouldn’t complain. Suppose I should probably pay for all this, huh…” Eddie squints to read your nametag out loud.

You slap your palm to your face. “I've got to stop forgetting to introduce myself.”

“Hey now, I didn’t even get to, so now we're even!” Eddie points out. He looks at the dice towers situated next to you and lets out a low whistle. “Man, I’ve always wanted a tower, just for like… Real dramatic rolls. But I don’t know if I can justify paying that much in one go.”

A smirk creeps along our face as you come up with an idea, “How about a little bet?” You take out a random d20 from one of the jars on the other side of the counter, and pull a dice tower up in front of you, between you and Eddie. You hold the die between your finger and thumb, hovering it over the tower. “If this crits, you have to buy it right now.”

Eddie’s smile returns, “And what if it’s a natural one?”

“Then I pay for it for you,” you shrug. “Anything else, we leave it here.”

“I like those odds,” Eddie nods. “Let’s do it.”

You drop the die. It clatters between tiers of wood until…

“20?! No way.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to put you out of pocket! Let’s just forget the whole thing, it was just a joke -”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m a man of my word. Guess I’m finally upping my game today.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he takes his wallet out. “So, uh, the party’s kinda full now, but if you ever wanted to just come watch a Hellfire game, we’d be more than happy to have you. We could even put you down as a reserve in case someone can’t make it, if you ever wanted to play!”

“We’ll see,” you give him a small smile. While this Eddie guy does seem sweet, you're still a little apprehensive from the last campaign you were in.

“I’ll just keep coming by every day, as long as it takes to convince you,” Eddie singsongs, in a tone you’re comfortable enough with believing that it’s got friendlier intentions rather than insistent.

“That’ll be a waste then, since I’m not in every day,” you point out.

“Eh, then I just get to visit my good pal Stevie at the video store instead, I’m still good,” Eddie smiles before handing you an entire wad of cash. Your eyes widen, but you don’t ask any questions. You simply ring him up, give him his change and bag up his items for him. He grabs the bag and lifts it up in a farewell greeting. “See you ’round!”

You sigh wistfully to yourself, and hear a familiar voice pipe up next to you. “Alright, I believe you, perhaps Harrington’s not your man, after all.”

You jump at the sound of Ralph’s presence being so close before shaking your head, your face turning a deep shade of pink. “Shut up, so I’ve made conversation with two separate guys. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll remember that one at your wedding,” he smirks.

“What is it with all of you and assuming I’ll find my future husband while working here?!” you ask exasperatedly before noticing some comics that had fallen behind a shelf that clearly need your full and urgent attention.

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x you #steddie x you #steddie imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #fluff #aul #*myfics

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the-trans-dragon · 1 year

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#just a really specific rant: capitalism’s monopoly on Interest-Grabbing Characteristics #sometimes I almost say a phrase. and the phrase will be really concise and polite and perfect. and then I realize it sounds like an ad lol.#and so I’ll rephrase it—or just give up!—because i wince at the idea of sounding like an ad #in the same kind of way I abhorrently avoid Non-Harmful Behaviors that I #happen to associate with specific Harmful People. like even if the trait itself isn’t bad? I can’t cope with Resembling The Bad Thing at all #sometimes I notice this when I’m on the intercom at work. customers don’t notice announcements because most storewide #pages are for the employees—requesting service or something #so I wanted to say something a little Differently and a little Silly to try to grab the customers attention #(they were all waiting in line on one side of the store and didn’t notice registers on the other side too—so we are supposed to announce #that we have open registers and get the customers #out quicker etc etc) but I couldn’t think of an Attention Grabbing thing that didn’t sound like an ad! ‘Tired of waiting in line?#We have open registers to your left.’ but that sounds like an ad omg #there isn’t a way to phrase it that prevents it from sounding like an ad; or sounding like an employee page #if it doesn’t get their attention they won’t notice. if it does get their attention then it’ll sound like an ad.#I got in trouble for not making customers come to my register :/ I didn’t even see them because my eyes are bad and because our displays are #so tall that they obstruct view of everything #sorry for rambling #💜 I’m just grumpy at my job. time to go see my kitty kitty!!#sorenhoots

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agonyaster · 1 year

Text

yes i forgot to post this here so now im doing it very late

more depot agent musings, you know the drill

ao3 link

…

Some people would say Jackie’s up too late for someone who has to go to work that day, but they’ve never been one to listen to people like Isadore. And they’re sure Isadore would say something just like that.

But there’s just something so special about wandering the aisles of a shitty 24/7 convenience store perched on the edge of the city that never sleeps. The constant droning buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead, soft thumps and scuffles coming from the storage room near the back where a Gurdurr and its trainer are unloading supplies, slow breaths of the cashier as she blasts music through her headphones and pinches the skin of her forearm to keep herself awake— it’s wonderful in a peculiar sort of way.

It’s intimately peaceful, something you don’t tend to see in Nimbasa.

Jackie hums a jaunty little tune to themself and rounds the corner, eyes glittering with delight as they focus in on the only other customer in the store. They’d recognize that stupid little ponytail anywhere.

In a few quick strides, Jackie’s hovering right at his shoulder, unable to hide the devilish smirk creeping onto their face.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Cameron screams so loudly Jackie can feel the vibrations in the back of their skull. Perfection.

He whirls around and trips over his own feet, stumbling backwards into the shelf and smacking his head against one of the racks with a yelp of fear and surprise. Ah, two scares for the price of one; could the day get any better?

“No need to get so excited over little old me,” they tease, peering down at Cameron. He blinks up at them confusedly for a few seconds before rocketing to his feet so fast Jackie’s mildly disappointed he doesn’t hit his head again.

He tries to clean up the shelves, but his hands are shaking so badly he just keeps knocking the boxes of hair dye over as soon as he sets them back up. It’s like watching a Minccino run around on one of those exercise wheels.

“I, uh… Hi, Jackie,” Cameron stammers out, looking over his shoulder as if to check they were still there. It ends up costing him two fallen boxes.

“You didn’t have the graveyard shift, did you? Isadore was the one who traded off with me.”

“N-no, I didn’t.”

“Why you out so early, then? Got the midnight munchies?”

“Just… couldn’t sleep. Got a little stir crazy I guess.” Cameron laughs weakly. “Needed to get the stuff to redo my bangs anyway, so… Two Ducklett, one stone.”

Jackie doesn’t really believe him. The bangs thing is true enough, they are looking a little lackluster these days, but Cameron doesn’t seem like the kind of person to go out when he can’t sleep. He doesn’t even seem like the kind of person that has trouble sleeping.

But even then, there’s something off about how he holds himself. Cameron can recover from a scare twice as bad in half the time at the station, but his hands are still shaking. His breaths come in short, quick bursts that makes Jackie wonder how he hasn’t passed out yet.

Worst of all is his face— it just looks so wrong.

It’s more uncommon for Cameron not to burst into tears in the middle of the work day, so Jackie’s gotten pretty used to it. He’s one of those people with a pretty crying face, rosy cheeks and wide eyes and all that stuff.

Now though, Cameron’s eyes are bloodshot and puffy, nose tinged red and cheeks blotchy. His teeth are clamped down on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling with the rest of him. It’s the most uncomfortable Jackie’s ever seen him

“You sure that’s it?” they ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Cameron says, not sounding very sure at all. “I’m fine; I’ll stop bothering you. Have a good night- er, morning. See you at the station.”

He grabs a box of the bleach, starts for the register and the half-asleep clerk. Jackie watches his retreat, something uncomfortable bubbling just underneath the surface of their skin.

To hell with it. They need to touch up their roots anyway.

“Hey. Cameron.”

He pauses and looks back at them. His shoulders are so tense they’re practically roommates with his ears.

“How about we make a deal? You get enough bleach for the both of us, I’ll get my dye and some takeout for two.”

Cameron doesn’t say yes, but he grabs the second box of bleach that Jackie offers him anyway. They check out in silence, the worker barely having enough energy to tell them to have a nice night.

Jackie leads them down to the subway tunnels, only having to wait a few minutes for the next one to arrive. During those few minutes, Cameron keeps flapping his mouth open and closed like a Magikarp out of water.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Jackie grumbles as the train pulls up to the platform.

He seems to be weighing the pros and cons as they board, but eventually Cameron’s curiosity outweighs the fear. “You dye your hair?”

“Tell a soul and I’ll have to take yours.”

Cameron gives a breathy chuckle and sinks down into one of the seats. It’s kind of disappointing he didn’t scream again or grovel for forgiveness. Well, you win some, you lose some. Probably could’ve put a bit more into the delivery, if they’re being honest.

The rest of the train ride goes just fine. Cameron ends up falling into a sleep more unstable Isadore’s temper, falling in and out of various states of consciousness for the next few minutes. When the subway finally rattles to a halt, Jackie grabs him by the arm and guides Cameron out of the station as he shoots awake and gets his bearings.

“You live in Opelucid?” he asks once he’s lucid enough to recognize his surroundings.

“Yeah. Commute’s a bitch sometimes but I don’t have to pay an arm and a leg in rent.” They shrug. “Buildings are really old and a total pain, but what can you do?”

“I dunno, I like them. Kinda… classic.” The streetlight illuminates Cameron’s face in an odd way, but it looks like the blotchiness in his cheeks is going down.

“You say that, but you’ve never had to pay to have every last electric line in your house replaced because the breaker box got so hot it ended up melting through some wires and setting a small fire in the basement.” Jackie pauses. “But yeah, the architecture’s nice. I like the domes.”

They walk in silence for a while longer, being careful to keep their footsteps light as they climb the stairs leading up to Jackie’s building.

“There’s gloves and brushes and stuff in the hall closet if you want to get it out,” they say, unbuttoning their jacket. “If not, just make yourself at home; I’m going to go get changed.”

Jackie trots off to their bedroom, shedding their hat and tie as they close the door behind them. When they come back, in plaid pajama pants and a tank top advertising the Castelia gym, Cameron’s scrubbing his hands in the sink; all the materials are laid out on a dish towel like he’s preparing for a surgery.

“Someone’s excited,” they muse with a lopsided grin.

“I just figured it would be best to get started… I couldn’t find the foil, though. And I didn’t want to poke around too much.”

“Cabinet over the stove.” Jackie leans against the counter and pulls out their phone, scrolling lazily. “You have any opinions on food?”

Cameron cocks his head to the side like a Lillipup. “Uh, I guess? People always say I look like I enjoy sweets, but I’m more into savory stuff. I can’t really handle spicy.”

“I mean like, what do you want for takeout?”

“Oh.” Cameron’s face turns the color of a Darumaka. “Uh, I don’t really care.”

“Nothing spicy though, yeah?”

“Uh… If you would.”

With an amused chuckle, they tap away at their phone as Cameron finally pulls the aluminum foil down from the cabinet. His shakes still aren’t totally gone though, so the tail end of the box kicks out to the side and sends an unopened box of tea tumbling out of the cabinet.

It bounces harmlessly off of his forehead, and Jackie can’t help but cackle.

Cameron scrambles to pick up the tea and put it back in the cabinet, something that’s proving to be difficult for someone so… vertically challenged; Jackie finishes up on their phone and shuts it off.

“Order’s been placed, but it’ll take a bit to get here.”

“Oh, uh okay.” They look up to see Cameron swatting the cabinet closed and gathering the supplies up in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to the bathroom? There isn’t a mirror in here.”

“You think I’m going to make you do it yourself?” Cameron stares at them blankly, making it clear that he very much did expect that. “What am I, an animal?” Jackie pulls one of the stools away from the counter and pats the seat. “Park it, Cammy.”

“What?”

They smack the stool again. “Sit.”

“Are you sure?”

Another slap. “Would I have brought you here if I wasn’t sure?

He gives in, and Jackie snaps on a pair of gloves, picking up the brush and dunking it into the goop. For the next few minutes they stand in silence as Jackie works the bleach onto every hair.

“You seem pretty used to this,” Jackie says, startling Cameron out of his meditative state.

“Hm? Well, yeah. My bangs have been like this for a few years.”

“I mean you're not like…. jumpy. Thought you would be with me doing it.”

“My sister used to do it for me. That’s probably why.” He laughs. “Mom didn’t trust me, so I got Clara to do it by doing the dishes for two weeks.”

“So she’s older than you? Your sister, I mean.”

“By a few years.”

Jackie hums. “What does she do?”

“Graphic design.”

“Ew, a service job.”

“We work service jobs, Jackie.”

“Sure, but at least the challengers don’t yell at me for how I battle.”

“Yeah. That’s Isadore’s job.”

Jackie smiles to themself and the two fall into silence until Cameron’s bangs are fully coated and the sound of tearing aluminum foil fills the kitchen. As the last lock of hair is wrapped, the two switch spots.

Cameron’s finally stopped shaking, something Jackie’s extremely grateful for as he combs through their hair and starts to bleach the roots.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” they comment. “Thanks for that.”

“I’m used to bleaching for another person. Haven’t done it in a while though, so sorry if I mess anything up.”

“With Clara?”

“Huh?”

“You’re used to it because of Clara?”

“No. Different sister.”

“How many do you have?”

“Three.”

“All older?”

Cameron hums affirmatively. “Yeah. We used to be pretty close.”

“Used to?”

He laughs awkwardly, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “I… yeah. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

They shrug and examine their nails. Hmm. Interesting. Might be part of the reason he was out tonight. “Can do, Camcam.”

“Camcam?”

“Would you prefer Cammy? Or Cameroony?”

“Cameroony?” The surprise is out of his voice, replaced with something a touch more affectionate.

“Don’t laugh too hard: I’ll be here all night.” Jackie tracks Cameron’s blurry reflection in the window above the sink. They think they can see a smile.

Cameron hums under his breath as he finishes up Jackie’s hair and they futz around on their phone, refreshing the delivery app a few dozen times.

“It’s still gonna be awhile for the food,” they say, sliding off of the stool and heading for the fridge, pausing only to grab a spoon from one of the drawers. “You can go into the living room, I guess.”

Cameron nods and scampers off as Jackie opens the freezer door and stoops down low. After a few moments they rise and swat it closed, popping the lid off of the pint of ice cream.

As they settle down onto the couch, Cameron leans over and reads the side of the carton, eyebrows raising.

“Cotton candy?”

Jackie carves out a scoop and sticks the spoon in their mouth. “What’s so wrong with it?”

“Nothing! I just didn’t expect it from you.” Cameron pauses. “I feel kinda bad, I don’t really… know that much about you.”

“Not a lot of people know much about me.” They shrug. “I like it that way.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. You know my name, and know I do my job well. What else is really needed?”

Cameron picks at his nails. “I just want you to know I care.”

“I already know that you care. You don’t need to know my favorite ice cream flavor to prove to me that you care.” Jackie watches his face carefully. Cameron looks close to tears, because of course he does. “That’s not gonna be enough for you, is it?”

“I doubt it.”

“Alright, fine. You wanna know something special about me?” They kick their feet up onto the coffee table. “I like watching this stupid Galarian baking show. But because it only streams in Galar, I had to hire someone to fly over and modify my TV so I can intercept the satellite stream because I’m too impatient to wait for someone to pirate it. Now if anything breaks she’s the only one who can fix it.”

“Is the show really that good?”

“Oh dragons no. It’s horrible. You should watch them try and make Paldean stuff. Complete shitshow.”

Cameron starts to laugh, but it quickly devolves into a scream as something floats up through the spot on the couch next to him. He clings to Jackie’s arm and cowers as Banette tottles her way to the arm rest.

“Well, that definitely woke the whole house,” Jackie murmurs before turning their attention to Banette. “Have a nice nap?” Banette rattles out a greeting. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, you lazy lump.”

They turn their attention to Cameron, who’s gone back to shaking like a leaf. “Oh come on. You don’t need to be scared of her.”

He detaches himself from Jackie’s arm but makes no attempt to move back to his original spot.

“She isn’t going to bite you. Her mouth is a zipper.”

“It’s not I just…” Cameron blinks. “Why is she blue?”

Jackie swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “She’s a shiny.”

Obviously intrigued, Cameron inches towards her. “I’ve never seen a shiny pokémon before… I thought they were just a myth.”

“Nah, they’re real, just rarer than Isadore in a good mood.”

There’s a high-pitched screech and suddenly an Absol’s got its face shoved into Jackie’s ice cream, a Zubat’s swooping down from the ceiling fan, and the old teapot on the coffee table is floating.

Jackie pauses, watching the green Zubat fly circles around Cameron’s head. “I’m really not the best example of that rarity thing.”

“How do you have so many? Why do you have so many?”

A shrug. “I collect 'em, I guess.”

“Why? Just to say you have them? I didn’t even know you owned personal pokémon.”

“Eh, it’s not that. They’re… different. A lot of shinies are abandoned by their families when they’re young because the colors make it harder for them to camouflage.” They scratch under Absol’s chin. “There are collectors that shiny hunt just to have them, to show off and then stuff the poor things in the PC. I don’t like that. These pokémon aren’t used to good things. I want good to be the default for them.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Jackie.”

“I guess. Besides, I don’t really have anyone else. Gotta spend my paycheck on something.” Polteageist drifts over and starts to levitate Jackie’s spoon. “Vacation days, too. I’m headed to Johto next, looking for a Spinarak.”

“Oh. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

A dull buzzing, like the sound of a Yanma flapping its wings, fills the room and Jackie’s on their feet. “That’s our food.”

“Was that the doorbell?”

“Yes.”

“Why does it sound like that?”

“Because Polteageist is scared of a normal doorbell, that’s why.” They come back into the living room and dump the takeout bags onto the coffee table. “Now shut up and eat.”

And he does, without complaint. They make their way through half of the spring rolls, take a break for a second round of bleaching and dyeing, and attack the rest of the food while it sets.

By the time the food’s all gone, Cameron’s bangs have been bleached and toned, Jackie’s roots are properly purple again, and there’s sudsy water all around the edges of the sink.

Cameron looks down at his phone and cringes, eyes flitting towards the door. “Thank you for everything, Jackie, but I should probably get going-”

“You’re not leaving.”

Cameron goes whiter than a sheet. “I’m not?”

“Nope. Crash on the couch.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“If you try and go home right now, you’re going to get mugged. That’s what happens in Nimbasa at like four in the morning.” Jackie watches in real time as all the anxious fire in him dies. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ll go grab you a blanket.”

When they come back with the blankets, Cameron’s already conked out on the couch. Absol’s licking his fingers, draining them of any possible food remnants.

Jackie clicks their tongue and sets the blankets down off to the side, stifling a yawn. Entertaining guests is a lot harder than they thought.

#depot agents #pokemon #writing #depot agent jackie #depot agent cameron #pokemon bw #jackies not a ghost in this bc its funnier if theyre just a normal person

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mirobami · 2 years

Note

Wait scratch that- I was wrong both times- I ment straight flush and spades🏃🏾‍♂️ I got mad confused and screwed up the wording😭

↳ come around again

♠️ CHARACTER: y. jabami

♠️ MATCH: Spades (Friends to Lovers) + Straight Flush (Coffee Shop!AU)

♠️ NOTE: Don't even worry about it dude I REMEMBER YOU ASKED FOR YUMEKO I BETTER NOT BE WRONG

"Yes, can I have a--”

“You offend me, I know your order!”

It was always fun for you to visit Yumeko on her shifts. She was usually working the cash register and would occasionally make drinks, but most of the time she stood at the cash register. You specifically waited for her in order to get your drink. Stepping forward, you acted all innocent, as if you didn’t know her. “I’m brand new here, how could you possibly know my order?”

Yumeko tried to bite back a smile. She couldn’t deny that she didn’t like seeing you at her job, it made it so much easier. “Call it telepathy. I communicate with those who are extra pretty.”

It wasn’t out of the norm for Yumeko to flirt with you in subtle ways. People had even thought that you were dating by the way that you would hold hands in public and she would casually drop pick up lines on you. Even now, you couldn’t stop yourself from raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then why can’t I talk to you?”

“You tell me. Anyways, your order?”

“Yumeko, my regular, please.”

Calling out to one of her coworkers, she commanded, “One Y/N special, please!”

Her coworker--Mary, you thought it was from the amount of times that Yumeko has talked to you about her--grumbled as she shook a metal container. “Ask Ryota, I’m busy right now. Also, there’s no such thing as a Y/N special!”

Yumeko turned back to you and smiled, telling you the price. You stood aside, waiting for your order and sneaking looks as to who was working on your order. The scene was almost comical. Yumeko was practically shoving Mary out of the way to make your drink as perfectly as possible. Mary kept yelling, “Y/N isn’t the only customer!” Ryota clearly looked as though he wanted to be somewhere else and tried to ignore the squabbling duo as he took another order. You didn’t know why Yumeko was more excitable than usual today.

Meanwhile, she was working to perfect your drink, exactly the way you wanted it. She knew your order by heart from hearing you order it multiple times. Sure, she was your best friend and this was common knowledge to her, but she still felt special since no one else memorized it as well as she did. The drink was now in a cup and she leaned over the counter, raising it up high. “Order for Y/N!”

You stepped forward, gratefully taking the cup from her and taking a sip. You had to give her points for it, the drink was perfect. It almost seemed impossible. “This could not have been easy to make.”

“Oh, it was no trouble at all.” Yumeko was smiling at you as though you were the only person in the world. She could barely even hear Mary muttering curses under her breath as she cleaned up. “Read the side of the cup. I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you later, okay? Come around again soon!”

As you walked out, you noticed that the cup didn’t just have your name on it. It also said, in her handwriting: Can I take you out on a date?

So that was what she meant by seeing you later. No wonder she was more excited today than any other day. With a grin, you opened up her contact to text a quick “yes” to her. Sometimes, you truly felt lucky to have a friend like her, someone that you could trust even when she would no longer be a friend, but someone much closer to you. You definitely would come around again.

#[ ♠️ ] verona's 1k soiree !#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui x y/n #kakegurui x you #yumeko x reader #yumeko x y/n #yumeko x you #jabami yumeko x reader #jabami yumeko x y/n #jabami yumeko x you

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oh-myluckystars · 1 year

Text

4KOTA Week

Day One: Pining/Coffee Shop ☕️ [Trisolde Flavored]

“One espresso.”

The customer was about Isolde’s age, she might describe him as tall but when you’re as tall as Isolde is it’s a little hard to tell. He had long silver hair with bangs that covered his eyes a little so it was hard to tell but she could make out blue and green under there.

“Alright,” Isolde said, grabbing an espresso cup and uncapping her pen. “Can I get a name for that order?”

“Tristan.”

She wrote down his name and the order, then passed the cup off to Chion to be filled.

“That’ll be three pounds.”

Tristan paid without saying another word, silently sliding the money across the counter to Isolde. Chion handed Tristan his coffee and he took it from him, making a swift exit from the café.

“What a weirdo.” Jade said.

Isolde looked dazed.

“Hm?” She asked. “You think so? He was actually pretty handsome, don’t you think? I hope he comes back.”

“Are you serious?”

—

Tristan closed the door behind him with a sigh. He leaned back, watching cars pass him by.

Why do I have to be so awkward around girls? Especially the cute ones…

Tristan took a sip of his coffee and made a disgusted face before swallowing slowly.

And why did I order this? I don’t even like coffee!

What a waste. Well at least—

Tristan slipped a hand in his empty pocket— Wait, empty?

My wallet, it’s gone! No, I must’ve dropped it in the coffee shop! But I can’t go back inside now…

Oh, I know! I’ll just—

“Excuse me, sir- er, Tristan,” Isolde tapped his shoulder.

Tristan jumped. “Y-Yes?”

“Here, you dropped your wallet in the cafe.” Isolde handed him his wallet.

“Thank you very much.” Tristan said.

“It was no trouble at all.” Isolde smiled at him. Anything for an excuse to talk to Tristan. “Enjoy the coffee!”

Isolde dashed toward the door, returning inside. She was gone for a second and back in the blink of an eye.

“I forgot to give you your receipt, sorry!” Isolde apologized. Before Tristan could thank her, she ran back inside.

But that wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was that he could’ve sworn that Isolde had given him his receipt inside the café.

When he looked closer at the receipt, he realized that it wasn’t even his receipt. He thought about returning it but when he flipped the paper over he saw numbers scribbled on it with a message.

‘You’re cute, call me sometime’

Tristan blushed, staring at the receipt in disbelief.

He took another sip of his coffee. It still tasted bad but he could bear it if he got to see Isolde.

Maybe coffee wasn’t so bad after all.

—

Tristan came back to the coffee shop the following day.

Today he was determined. He would order something he actually liked, maybe flirt a little, and if he was lucky he could get a date.

He was not lucky.

Yesterday, Tristan couldn’t even get out a word when Isolde greeted him yesterday. Her beauty just stunned him into silence. But today would be different, he swore it.

But today the one waiting for him at the cashier wasn’t Isolde but Chion.

“Hey cous,” Tristan chirped, leaning against the counter. “Working hard or hardly working?”

“Here to see Isolde?” Chion asked.

How did he know? “No, no, of course not. I came to see my favorite cousin!”

Chion raised a brow at him.

Tristan leaned forward, speaking in a whisper. “But just out of curiosity… Isolde wouldn’t happen to be working today, would she?”

“Nope, I’m all alone at the register today. Even Jade ditched me.” Chion wiped away a non-existent tear from his eye.

Tristan stared at Chion blankly.

“Well? You gonna order something or what?

—

Tristan picked up his spoon, stirring the tea slowly while in thought. The hard part was over now that he had Isolde’s number. Now came the harder part, getting her to fall for him.

He and Isolde had texted each other practically all night long. It felt a lot easier texting her instead of talking face to face. Mostly because he couldn’t get distracted by her beautiful face.

But that didn’t change the fact that he was disappointed he couldn’t see her today. After all that time he spent talking with Isolde over the phone, he had been excited to see her in person.

But then Chion had to go and crush his dreams like that.

Man, I really wish Isolde was here today…

“Tristan, you came!” Isolde seemingly appeared out of thin air behind him, towering over his shoulder.

She smiled at him. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”

Tristan picked up his cup of tea, blowing on it gently. “I’m a little surprised to see you. Chion said you weren’t working today.”

“Hm?” Isolde put her down her drink. “No, I was here, just in the kitchen, baking. I’m not usually on the register but the café was pretty busy yesterday so my boss made me get on.”

“You bake? I have to admit I’m a little jealous,” Tristan said, leaning his face against the palm of his hand. “I can’t cook to save my life, much less bake. I think it runs in the family.”

Isolde sat up straight, folding her hands against the table. “Tristan, let me let you in on a little secret. Anyone can cook, in fact it is quite easy. All you need to do is follow the recipe to the tea.”

Isolde cringed at the unintentional pun at the end of her speech but she hoped that her message went through to Tristan. And it looked like it did. Tristan stared back at Isolde, speechless.

Maybe I went a little too far there…

But Isolde didn’t stop there.

“Here, try one of my scones. It’s an Isolde Original Recipe.” Isolde said, passing Tristan the bag of pastries.

Tristan plucked a scone out of the bag and took a bite. Isolde watched him intently, trying to read his facial expression as he chewed on the pastry.

“Wow, it’s delicious!” Tristan said.

Isolde smiled, relieved. Now she could proceed.

“You know, when I said that it was on Isolde Original Recipe that was actually a lie,” Tristan gasped. Isolde nodded, looking at him with a serious expression. This was in fact a very serious matter. “But it’s good, right? You don’t need to do anything fancy to make a good pastry. All you need to do is follow the recipe.”

Tristan nodded in agreement, too busy enjoying ths scone to form a response.

“And I think what you need is a good teacher. Luckily for you, you’re talking to the best baker in Liones.” Isolde said proudly, gesturing to her name tag.

“Really? You’ll teach me?”

Isolde picked up a scone for herself. “Of course I will! I must correct this injustice, Tristan.”

Tristan chuckled. “Alright, if you insist. But I will warn you right now that it won’t be easy.”

“You are going to eat your words, Tristan,” It came out sounding like a threat so she added, “And delicious pastries.”

“How’s Sunday?” Tristan asked.

“It’s a date.”

—

Over the next couple of days, Tristan returned to the coffee shop everyday to see Isolde. They sat and talked about what they oils be doing on their date and she even got him a cook book. Tristan spent an entire day studying it in preparation for their date.

The result was something resembling scones.

“…They look edible.” Tristan said, optimistically.

This was their 5th attempt and if they failed again, they wouldn’t be able to make a 6th batch. She could only hope Tristan’s was right.

“Only one way to find out.” Isolde fanned the scones off with a hand.

Isolde picked one up, examining it from every angle. She hesitantly took a bite, fearing what it would taste like.

“It’s good!” Isolde said, surprised.

“Really? Can I try?” Tristan asked.

Tristan closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Isolde blushed, guiding the pastry toward his lips. He took a bite and and opened his eyes. He gasped, holding a hand over his mouth.

“It’s good, right?” Isolde laughed.

“Really good. I can’t believe I made that.” Tristan was surprised with himself.

“See? I told you, anyone can cook.” Isolde took a bite out of the scone.

“What should we make next?” Tristan asked.

“I think we better save that for another time.” Isolde really needed to go grocery shopping after all they had been through that night. It would be a load off her paycheck, that was for sure. “…Assuming that you’d like to do this again.”

“I’d like that very much.”

#4KOTAWeek #fanfic #trisolde #pining #coffee shop au #tristan liones #isolde #four knights of the apocalypse #mokushiroku no yon kishi #4koa #mnyk #4kota #nnt #7ds #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins

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sparkraptor · 2 years

Text

Nico hadn’t expected to fall asleep, but he blinked awake in the dim room to see Ben looking down at him. There was a soft luminescence to the synth’s deep green eyes and a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey, sorry…” Nico started, then he noticed how oddly Ben was sitting, as if there was something curled against him that Nico couldn’t see. “Ben?”

Ben looked down at the invisible weight against him. “Shhh. She finally fell asleep. I have to tell you, if this kid is any indication, you and Siera are going to be in trouble once you start having your own.”

(he’s remembering something) Nico realized, but he blurted out “what?” before he could stop himself.

“Oh please. My eyes might not be the same as yours but I see a man who loves kids, and who I think will be a great father, about to marry an amazing woman who will be a great mom.” Ben laughed. “And as I’m your Guardian, I will be theirs. And their children’s. And so on for as long as I keep…” he stopped, suddenly jerking his head up. “Gunfire. Stay with her and I… I… “ he started to stutter, eyes full of worry as he tried to get off the bed. “I…”

Nico grabbed his wrist. “BEN! It’s ok!”

Ben was suddenly himself again, looking down at Nico with a confused expression. “Nico.” He said, then looked around the room. “What happened?”

“You were dreaming, I think.”

“Synthetics don’t dream. Not like people.” He said, relaxing incrementally. “I don’t remember what it was, but my threat responses are off the charts.”

There was a knock at the door before either could speak again. “Hey, uh. We’re putting something to a vote.” Luca said, then he slid it open. The little Marach’s face had a brief expression that was equal parts relief and disappointment. “Oh. I thought I might be. You know. Interrupting. Things.”

Nico could only rub his face.

“This sounds like a terrible idea.” Nico growled as they all sat around the mess table.

“Yeah.” Ben added. “Why would you build a battlebot out of junk? You’ve got me.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“What? You all saved me, it’s literally the least i can do.” He shrugged.

Kio and Luca looked at each other, then back at Mason, then back at Ben. “How confident are you in your ability to beat the shit out of things.” Kio asked with narrowed eyes.

“Extremely.” Ben sat back in his seat. “Look, I know I’m not without my current, uh…” he waved a graceful hand. “Functional issues, but beating the shit out of things is a core skill set.”

“Your face goes up on those screens, and I guarantee we will have Bounty Hunters up our asses faster than we can blink.” Mason folded his arms.

“This is a crime against aesthetics, but we can build him a mask. One that Kio or I can monitor remotely. It hides his face, we can use it to make him look more like a standard biobot… and…” Luca started.

“And we will make so much money on book.” Kio crowed.

Mason covered his face. “Goddamnit.”

“You’ll need to fake me a registration.” Ben tapped his chin. “And we’ll need to put at least one dummy chipdeck in my neck.”

“Are you going to be ok with that?” Nico rumbled.

Ben gave him a sunny smile. “I have to be. But I think I know a guy who can help.”

“How do you know a guy?” Kio looked suspicious.

“I wasn’t just shit out of a protein reactor when you found me. I’d been running ops for the Pilgrims for a few years.” Ben snipped back. “Trust me.”

“Ugh.”

Kio brought the Phoenix into port, as Mason negotiated the standard “we don’t have dock fees” deal which included locking the ship’s engines down until payment could be made. Having two Marach aboard made it moot, but he wanted to be able to come back to Arcadis Terminal at some point.

Arcadis didn’t have the strictest customs department, so Luca and Kio gave the scanners the tiniest nudge to register them all as having valid ids as they entered the massive Terminal. “Ok, flesh Roomba, where to meet your guy?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “This way.”

He led them down through increasingly sketchy areas, even past where the fighting pits were held, a blind eye by Terminal Security turned towards them. Finally, they ended up at a warren of alleyways and shops. “This is Ise’s shop.” Ben pointed to a sign that read “Spare Parts and Bakery”

“Well that’s not a combo you see every day.” Mason muttered as they entered.

“It smells great, though.” Luca tried not to whine.

The counter was manned by an enormous, crusty old mech, but Mason froze. “That’s a combat bot.” He hissed.

“T11!” Ben pushed past him.

“B3N.” The mech looked up. “We thought you were dead. I5E is going to be upset. He bet 4D1 500 dommies you were dead.” It said in a monotone, but it hugged the smaller synth gently. “I am glad you are not.”

“I’m not. It’s been five years, Ben.” A rough voice came from the back, and the curtains parted. The synth there had a partially ruined face, bandages covering most of it, and as he stepped forward, it was clear he had mech-replacement legs, not dissimilar to Mason’s arm. “Adi’s gonna be a smug bitch about this.” He paused, seemingly looking over the others with his sightless gaze. “What the fuck is this clown show?”

“My last run, didn’t go so well, but I got most…”

“Wait, they know?” Ise reached behind the counter and behind Ben, Mason and Nico tensed.

“They saved my life. I was in stasis, in a wrecked ship. I was going to be dead soon.” Ben looked back. “They’re my friends.”

“You’re a moron.” Ise grumbled, and brought his hand back up, empty. “And no, I’m not going to tell them you’re alive. You’ve paid your dues. What do you need, grandpa?”

“A dummy chipdeck, an owner registry and id’s that will get us all into the best arenas.” Ben rocked on his feet.

“Not for all of you. I’ll do two of them. That Marach…” he pointed at Kio. “Looks like just the kind of shitlord who goes to these things. The other one looks like fucking toddler, i’m not sending them in those joints. Either one of the humans. One thousand dommies. 500 for time and materials and 500 to cover my bet with Adi.”

“We don’t exactly have 1000 dommies just now.” Mason hoped he didn’t sound desperate.

“Oh, don’t worry. You will.” Ise said.

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dancinjanssen · 2 years

Text

Life update. Haven’t done this in a while, if ever.

I am happiest to report that I got out of slinging coffee (which I’d been doing since 2014 across two different places) and found an office job. Without doxxing myself, essentially I calculate/reconcile real estate agents’ commission checks and make sure that each person involved in the transaction is getting paid the right amount. Monday through Friday, all the holidays off, no more dealing with customers. It’s been pretty great. (The only thing I’m still adjusting to is working 8 to 5 as a natural night owl who would always prefer to be up until 2 am and sleep until 10.) I’m that weirdo who’s always loved math too, so I feel completely in my element. My boss is essentially the 2.0 version of my favorite math teacher from middle school, which has been hilarious and great too. They literally even have the same first name and look alike.

My barista years will always hold a place in my heart. I worked with some amazing coworkers, got to do barista competitions, and now I have knowledge and appreciation of good coffee that I’ll enjoy on the customer end for the rest of my life. That being said…..

Why after eight years in the industry and four of them at this last place did I leave? I’ll tell you exactly why. MANAGEMENT. Really specifically one manager, but the rest of management defended and protected her behavior, so I really left all of them. In a nutshell:

Year one: Different supervisor. Call him M. M wasn’t great, but he eventually got fired. This supervisor- H- got promoted in his place.

Years two and three: For reasons I still don’t comprehend, H took an immediate abnormally strong liking to me. It went beyond just thinking I was a good worker and appreciating me on a professional level. H would tell me to come hang out with her in the office and just talk to her about life for 1-2 hours a night. She told me to always have her grab my money for the register and that if any other manager offered, to tell them she was doing it. And when Covid hit in 2020 and a big part of our staff got furloughed, she moved me from a station that got shut down to one that didn’t just so I wouldn’t get furloughed because she said she would cry if I did. One of the sketchiest straws for me was the night she told me to close the coffee shop for my lunch (like always) but then to stay closed for an extra half hour to come hang out with her.

Year four: Complaints about H favoring me naturally mounted, and finally after enough of them, the boss above her talked to her and told her it needed to stop. I agreed with that. That alone was perfectly fine and needed to happen. But this was where H just went unhinged and made my final year at this place hell. She blamed me almost entirely for our relationship getting out of hand. She told me I got too carried away and didn’t manage my time well enough and that’s why it got noticed that we were together in the office a lot. When I asked her why she never once told me it was time to leave and get back to work (you know, her job as MY BOSS), she told me she thought all my work was done. Oh yeah. Telling me to come hang out with you at 7:30 when the coffee shop closed at 11 was me clearly having all my work done. [Sarcasm]

And from then on, H was not nice to me. She avoided eye contact with me, said the absolute bare minimum to me, and made big shows of saying hi and talking to everyone else while completely ignoring me. Once we got some new hires, they became her new favorites and did all the stuff she and I used to do. It was like she learned NOTHING from what happened with me. These people hung out with her in the office just like we did, but all the while she still iced me out and acted like I was gum on her shoe for getting her in trouble the first time. It put me in a horrendous place mentally. I blamed myself for somehow not being good enough for her or for being “too much” for her. What did these new employees have that I didn’t?

January this year: I along with 5-6 other employees all went to upper management about H. About her favoritism. About her treating us like garbage while her new chosen ones sat in the office and did zero work. About H giving them Christmas gifts right in front of everyone else. All upper management told me was to get over it, back off, and stop letting it bother me. That all H owed me was to be professional and not to be my friend. I told them she wasn’t even being professional with me and they didn’t care. The single only thing they agreed to tell her was that she needed to look at me when she was talking to me. They agreed the lack of eye contact was rude. (I know some autistic people prefer that, but I don’t. Mileage may vary. And it was her being rude, not uncomfortable with eye contact. She made it with everyone else.)

February to May this year: I went day to day never knowing which version of H I was going to get. Some days she randomly warmed up to me again, others she kept icing me out. Some days she made eye contact, others she didn’t. One day she walked with me into the building and made conversation the whole way, the next she’d avert her eyes and walk on without me.

May 2022: I finally drew the line for my mental health, said enough of this bullshit, and found a new job. Gave H my two weeks on May 23rd (sooo satisfying!) and my last day was June 2nd. I didn’t even have to do that. I could have told her to go get f**ked and walked out right on the 23rd. But I cared about my other coworkers enough to work my two weeks, plus the new place didn’t start me until June 6th anyway.

June 2nd (my last day): Probably the single weirdest day I ever had with H. Each month this year, she planned to bring cake one night and celebrate all the birthdays of that month. She saw that through in January, February, and March only, and then had abandoned it. Back in January, she accidentally announced me with the names even though I’m a May baby. Sometime later when the vibe was right, I let her know that, and she felt bad and said I could pick one of the cake flavors for May. (She always got two cakes.) After no cake happened in April, I thought it was a lost cause anyway, but when I asked a couple of times almost just to be snarky, she kept insisting it was happening.

Finally on my last day, she told me she had my cake. That it was MY cake and she didn’t get cake for anyone else, and it was combination birthday and going away/new job. She said all of this very stoically and mechanically. When I went to her office later to get the cake, it was goodbye for us and I didn’t really know what to say. I thanked her and told her I was sorry that things got rough with us, and she said “It is what it is. I’m glad you can grow in your new career now.” So that told me she was ecstatic for me to leave.

The whole thing was just WEIRD. I never really knew where I stood with her. Getting out was the absolute best thing for me. I wish everyone else luck in their navigations with her.

I still keep in touch with coworkers. I am happy to say that one month later, my job has not been filled yet and they’re now offering $1,000 sign on bonuses for some of the positions. That place can drown in its shitty management. I did my part to try to change it and nobody cared. Sayonara.

#long post #work #management #great resignation #jobs

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