#and there was a customer today who went through the divider to ''shop'' in the ''other section of the store'' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itstheghostofmypast · 18 days

Note

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!?

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission, "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

59 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 6 months

Text

Dr. Encyclopedia

Flufftover Day 26: Coffee Shop

Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: I kind of went off prompt here, but I really like where it ended up. My requests are still open for things to write after October is done so send them in. Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated. I'll see y'all tomorrow!

ps. all the facts in here were googled so they might be wrong, but who knows?

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You weren’t planning on spending your entire morning in the quaint little coffee shop that you walk past on your way to work, but the raging storm outside dictated that you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. You had your work laptop and could do some of your tasks from pretty much anywhere, minus team meetings but you didn’t have one of those today. You sent off a quick text to your boss letting her know that you'd be avoiding arriving at the office sporting the drowned rat look and would be there when the rain let up. She had told you not to sweat it and that she’d see you when you got there.

A similar story to yours was playing out on the other side of the shop. A very fidgety Spencer Reid was on the phone with Hotch letting him know that he was stranded in the little coffee shop and bakery he went to every morning. Because Spencer didn’t like to drive, he walked this way to get to the train that would take him a block away from Quantico, but like you also was trapped by the torrential downpour lest he soak through his sweater and catch a cold.

“Hotch, it’s raining pretty hard here, I don’t think you want me trying to make it there in this weather.” You were unable to hear the other side of the conversation “Yeah, okay. Yes. Yes. Sir, I will bring you one of the muffins you like.” You let out a little chuckle at the handsome stranger’s negotiating skills.

“Boss man not happy?” you queried.

“Oh,” the man looked between his phone and you, “he’ll be okay. He loved the banana nut muffins from here.”

“Hmm. Did you know that the banana plant is the largest plant in the world without a woody stem? The trunk is just banana leaves intertwined around each other making a strong base.” You offered. You found that fun facts were a great way to break the ice, and if this man was to be your only real company besides the busy-looking barista behind the counter until the rain ended, you wanted to get off on the right foot.

“I did. Did you know that the first discovery of coffee’s stimulant effects was made by 15th-century goats?” He replied, nodding his head at the coffee cup you were holding.

‘Goats?” You asked.

“Yes, they were found by the locals in a small Brazilian town and were more energetic than the average goat, causing the coffee plant to be found and its use deduced.”

“Well, that is just about the funnest fact I’ve ever heard.” You told him, pushing your hand out to offer the man a handshake.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands. You transfer fewer germs by kissing than shaking hands.”

You put your hand down, “what is your name?”

‘Spencer Reid.” He handed you a business card with his name on it from somewhere on his body, you weren't sure. It was like it had just appeared.

You read the card. “FBI, huh? So you’re like real important aren’t you.”

‘I don’t know about that the FBI employs about 35,000 people across the US, I’m just one man.”

“One man, who knows a lot about caffeinated goats.”

“I know a lot about a lot of things.”

“Prove it.” You had challenged. With a raise of his eyebrow, he followed your instructions. For the next hour and a half the two of you sat at a small table in the corner of the shop, the only customers in the whole place. Rain beat against the windows and the light outside dimmed, being replaced with a sort of grey sheen that seemed to bathe the whole interior of the shop in a bittersweet melancholy.

Spencer and you went fact for fact, he was polite enough not to admit that he knew all of the facts you had presented already, or tell you that a few of them were wrong. He was astonished that you were willing to listen to his rambling for so long. The only person who could really stand to listen to him for a long period of time was JJ and her record was 45 minutes, you were going into hour two.

“So, Mr. FBI. How do you know so many wonderful things?”

‘I was kind of a lonely kid, I graduated early from every school I was in, and didn’t have many friends so I turned to books. And when you have an eidetic memory, you learn a lot of things.”

“I didn’t have many friends either,” you reassured him, not wanting him to stew in his vulnerability alone, “I taught myself all kinds of things. How to sew, how to make chicken cordon blue, growing vegetables.” you sighed sort of wistfully. “Looking back, they aren't very impressive skills but I love them growing up.”

‘I don’t know about not impressive, I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.” Spencer admitted. “I think your skills sound pretty great.”

“Yeah? Well, I think being a walking encyclopedia is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The two of you just sat in the pleasant silence for a little bit. Both are a little shy after so many compliments. Spencer’s phone rang.

“Dr. Reid.” He answered giving you an apologetic look and standing up from the table.

Dr. Reid. He hadn’t told you he was a doctor, you want to know what his PhD was in. YOu wanted to know all about him, you wanted to know him.

“Reid, where are you?” Hotch asked.

“I told you that I was in the shop, I’d be there when the rain was over.

“Reid. The rain is over, the rain has been over for twenty minutes.” Spenser immediately shot his head towards the window of the shop. Hotch was right, there were still water droplets that clung to the glass, but the downpour had stopped. The clouds had passed and several rays of sunlight were beginning to seep into the space.

“I- I didn’t even notice. I’ll be there soon. With your muffin.” Spencer hung up before Hotch could reply. He turned back to the table the two of you had taken up.

“Did you notice that the rain had stopped?” He asked. You also looked out the window. You let out a soft chuckle.

“No, I didn’t. How long has it been done?”

‘According to Bossman, about twenty minutes.”

“Jesus. I guess we really got lost in our own bubble there.” You supplied

‘I guess we did.” Spencer lingered. It had been years since he met someone who was able to keep his attention like that. “Would you um, would you like to get coffee again sometime?” He asked.

You couldn't fight the beaming smile that took up the bottom half of your face. “I’d love to. Dr. Reid.”

“Okay, Yeah. Good. Umm, call me?” Spencer bumbled, reaching for the brown paper bag that held Hotch’s muffin and grabbing his satchel bag from the back of his seat.

“I will.” You lifted up the card he had given you in between your fingers. “I definitely will.”

Spencer backed out of the shop, looking at you the entire time. And only when he was out of your eyeline did he let himself celebrate. He would have to tell Morgan, this would definitely get him off his back.

You saved Spencer’s number in your phone, under Dr. Encycolpedia, and started counting down the minutes to when you’d be able to call him. You really wanted to get coffee again.

103 notes · View notes

historyturkeytravel · 2 years

Text

Diyarbakır Crazy House

The historical inn, which is among the important caravanserais in Diyarbakir, was built in 1527 by the Governor of Diyarbakir, Hüsrev Pasha, with the mosque and madrasah behind it. As Evliya Çelebi mentioned, the Deliller Inn, which has a large number of rooms, is referred to as Menzil Han in a charter dated 20 June 1603.

The reason why it is known as the Inn of Evidence is that the evidences (guides) that will take the pilgrim candidates to the Hejaz stay in this inn. The inn even hosted the Ottoman rulers who went on expeditions. The inn was built with a courtyard and two floors. Covering a very large area, the inn has a nearly square courtyard with a pool in the middle. Black basalt stone and white limestone stone were used as the main material, and the barn section is located on the side facing the street and this is a single storey.

On the second floor of the inn, which is entered through a door framed with geometric interlaced borders and niches with muqarnas, inn rooms are lined up behind the porticoes carried by thick pillars. It is about 6-7 m. The unit, which was built as a barn in height, is used as an indoor restaurant today.

The restaurant has a capacity of 300 people and is a place used not only by hotel customers but also by local people for eating. The shops on the front of the street also have the opportunity to shop for touristic purposes. On the ground floor, two branches are arranged as administrative offices, an orient room, game room, bar, and the other two branches are divided into bedrooms and the building is functional.

#blog post #history #travel #turkey #wordpress #blog #blogger #diyarbakır #work travel

1 note · View note

svchengss · 3 years

Text

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed.

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”.

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started.

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers.

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside.

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made.

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited.

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out.

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded.

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party - jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home.

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically.

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone.

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it.

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made.

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted.

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets.

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you.

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck.

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence.

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers.

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less.

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy.

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home.

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave.

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him.

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more.

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days.

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated.

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-”

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more?

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands.

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening.

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back.

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air.

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure.

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair.

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him.

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence.

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride.

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

165 notes · View notes

miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

F’coffee

-.-.-.-.-.-

Honestly. What did Bruce even think would happen? He should have known better.

Tim wasn’t Dick, indoctrinated from a young age to be a good, somewhat (when convenient) obedient son. Tim only went along with Bruce’s shit because, more often than not, it aligned with what he himself wanted. He also wasn’t Damian, so easily manipulable when one knew which buttons to push. And he certainly wasn’t Jason, who would sink his own ship to kill the captain.

So, when Tim and Bruce fought, and his adopted father decided to pull the ‘you live under my roof and work in my company, so I’m the boss all the way through’ card, well…

Yeah. Tim wasn’t going to take that lying down. He had a childhood of zero authority figures to obey and an overabundance of sass, plus a complete lack of fucks to give.

It was bound to go down like this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And, well. Tim had money. Like, an absurd amount of money. Even before being adopted by playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, Tim had his own no small fortune stashed away, a couple of properties gathering dust, two trust funds and more antique cars that he knew what to do with. So he could just… burn through that money, or sell the cars, or make a living of renting the buildings he owned, and he would barely even scratch the surface of his deep wealth.

But it wasn’t about being able to live comfortably with minimum effort. Tim was trying to prove a point here. What point, fuck if he knew. But a point.

So here he was, on the other end of the wooden counter, a cute red cap falling over his eye as he looked dead into his friend’s eyes.

“Tim. Tim, you’re rich. Why are you working in a coffee shop?”

Seeing as Kon and Cassie were currently too busy being shocked, Tim shrugged and went back to cleaning the cup in his hands.

It was a plastic cup. It didn’t need cleaning, he could just toss it away. But it was his favorite plastic cup, and he was gonna save it as a family heirloom forever.

(The fact that the pretty customer from the morning shift had drawn cute little doodles all over it had nothing to do with it’s worth.)

“Teenage rebellion”, he finally said, carefully putting his treasure away.

“You are twenty.”

“Time is a social construct and I’m but a slinky falling down an endless flight of stairs.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense. How is it so symmetrical? It defies nature.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

“What can I get for you?”

“I'll have a mocha caramel latte-chino, made with skim milk, no whipped cream.”

“Bart, no.”

“Please put that in a grande cup”

“I’m begging you, don’t do it.”

“But use the same amount of coffee that you'd put into a tall.”

“I’m warning you, you don’t want to do this.”

“That way there's about an inch of extra room on top.”

“I wish you had an extra inch so I could look straight into your eyes when I murder you.”

“To stir in my own nutmeg without spilling any coffee at all.”

“You’re dead to me. Also, I AM going to make you that drink and you WILL finish it or so help me God.”

“What do you want, Kon?”

“To not be here when Tim’s looking like he’s planning both our unsolved murders.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kon entered the shop, the messenger bag slung over his shoulder bumping against his hip as he rushed in to get his caffeine intake before his evening classes, he wasn’t surprised at the scene.

Cassie being there was a given, since there was always at least one of them there at all times, supporting Tim in this ‘independence’ thing he was dead set on trying. Kon himself had his Tim Shift later that day, after his creative writing course. Bart had probably just left, considering the amount of empty cake platters littering the counter.

Tim being face down in said counter, uncaring about the mess, was also old news. The dude barely ever seemed to leave (Kon was almost completely sure he actually owned the place, since he’d never seen any sort of manager and Tim’s hours seemed to work around his weird sleep patterns all too perfectly), and distraught was his general state of being, so. Normal day as far as he could see.

Still, he had to ask. “What is it today?”

Cassie, eyes never leaving her magazine, chin resting in one hand as the other one scratched at Tim’s scalp, snorted.

“A cute boy started working in the tattoo place next door. He came in for a morning fix, when Tim was barely awake, and he said something stupid, so he’s been having an existencial crisis ever since.”

“I said ‘you too’, Kon. He said ‘thanks for the coffee, I’ll enjoy it!’ and I said ‘you too’. What is wrong with me?”

Kon snorts a little. Tim doesn’t seem to be very interested in doing his actual work, so he just jumps over the counter and starts working the machines himself.

“You know that’s a question you can only ask your therapist, Tim, but if you need to know, I’d say you’re highly sleep deprived and a dysfunctional bi?”

At that, Tim does turn to look at him. There’s some cake frosting clinging to his eyelashes, and his hair is a mess. It looks cute, to be completely honest, and Kon has to leave his unfinished latte on the side so he can hug the little shit.

“Aw, don’t pout, Timbo. I’m sure he thought you were cute. Just try to sleep a bit more tonight, so when he comes back tomorrow you’ll be a little more alert and won’t embarrass yourself.”

“What do you mean, when he comes back?”

“I mean, if he works next door, he’ll probably get his morning coffees here all the time, right?”

That seemed to drive Tim back into the distraught spiral. He smashed his head back into the counter, making dying whale noises until Cassie’s hand returned to his scalp.

Kon privately thinks Tim’s life is starting to sound like fanfiction. He wonders which type of background character he would be, in it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The shop is called F’coffee. That’s why Cassie is convinced Tim is the actual owner; no one else would really think that’s a proper name for a serious establishment. Kon isn’t convinced all the way yet, but with Bart on her side and Tim staying silent on the subject, it is just a matter of time until she convinces him it’s totally okay for him to do his gym routine there. She thinks, with Tim being his own boss, no one would tell him to stop it, and it would help his friend’s business to bloom with new customers.

The place's general aesthetic is exactly what you would expect, with old wooden tables, comfy chairs, potted plants hanging from the walls and tall windows just a little bit stained. The smell is constantly of the strongest brew Tim has, Death Coffee (which he’s actually not legally allowed to sell, so he keeps it for himself), and just setting a foot in makes her feel instantly awake. It's also always warm, and the sweets on display look mouth watering no matter your personal preferences.

In short, it looks like something out of a movie. It’s a tad too perfect for her friend, but she thinks it also fits his obsessive need for perfection.

Except for the board. Oh, the board. Cassie loves it more than life itself.

Tim has divided the drinks in categories. And made up names for all of them.

“Yes, hello! I’d like to order a grande, iced, sugar-free vanilla Latte, with soy milk, but I can’t seem to find it in your menu…”

Tim’s dead eyes turn to Cassie for a second, before facing his customer again.

“You’re probably looking into the Normal People section”, he points out, before raising his hand to signal a bit to the left. “There you have the Pain In The Ass selection. There’s nothing just like you asked, but you have the It’s Britney Bitch beverage, which is almost exactly the same except I’ll add a middle finger drawing in the cup and charge you extra for emotional damages. Also, we’re out of soy milk.”

Or…

“Hey, good morning! I’d like to order…”

Tim raised a hand, stopping the chirpy, good looking young man dead in his tracks.

“Don’t tell me, I know what you need. I’ll just go ahead and prepare it.”

“But you don’t even know what I/”

“You’ll have a Cougar Bait. It has cacao cream, a strawberry pucker and some grenadine seeds. I think it's fitting, for you.”

And also…

“Hey, hum… Sorry, I just have to ask… what’s on the ‘Barista’s heart’ drink?”

“Cacao powder, almond milk and espresso. Also some organic coconut ash, that gives it the blacker-than-night color, that’s just a shade lighter than my soul.”

“...noted.”

Cassie snorts into her cup of Jack it up (coffee that tastes just like a Jack Daniel’s; having Tim working here has opened up her eyes to the possibilities), watching as Tim makes his own usual.

“What’s in that one?” She asks, out of curiosity, when she’s sure there’s no other customer close by.

“Six espresso shots.”

She waits for a second. Tim finishes the drink, carefully handling the dark liquid inside his favorite plastic cup.

“...okay, and?”

“And that 's it.”

“Tim, that-- that would kill you?”

“Duh. Why did you think it was called The Last Sip?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

179 notes · View notes

mxrcayong · 3 years

Text

part of @nct-writers’s cafe resonance collab!

genre: fluff, a more UK-based pov of university

summary: jisung, a college student now looking for a job, has decided to apply for a job at the local café. he thought being friends with the manager and its employees has it perks; from unlimited free coffee to whatever pastries haven’t been eaten by the end of the day. needless to say; the perks must end somewhere.

word count: 2317 words

note: i didn’t make the divider!!

College students practically live by coffee shops. If university was a religion, the on-campus coffee shop would be the bible. Daily, college students’ breath in the coffee beans like oxygen, feel the permanent imprint of coffee mug or a ‘to go’ cup on their lips. They’re surrounded by the smells of different fruity pastries and savory snacks, and the sounds of students either chatting or typing away on their computers.

It’s no wonder that the university coffee shop was practically a hub of activity. When you sit down to work at Café Resonance, it’s feels like you’re a part of a bigger and collective community, stressing for assessments or just taking a break from their hectic university schedules. It’s especially hectic when you’re a full-time student and work part time.

“Do I really need to get a job?” Jisung sighed, scratching his head as he leant against the barista’s counter. His six closest friends were working behind the counter: using the coffee machines and decorating the pastries. “Can’t I just use your employee discount on everything?”

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. “You know I want to, my little mouse.” He teased as he placed another order on his tray, “But I can only put the café employee discount on so many things.” He practically sung as he left, heading to a table to bring another set of students their own cups of their own ambrosia.

From the cash register, Haechan had just finished taking the orders of the last bunch of the line and immediately replaced Jaemin’s place next to Jisung. “You can always just become a sugar baby.” He suggested, coming over to the display case to grab one of the pastries to heat up per the customer’s order. “Or a pole dancer… aren’t you a good dancer?”

Jisung immediately protested. “Firstly, no. Secondly, is it even legal? I literally only became an adult this year.”

“Actually…” Haechan started to counter, only to be interrupted by Mark approaching with a raised hand and a dirty mop.

“Stop telling everyone to become a sugar baby.” Mark chided as he ducked to get back behind the counter, drudging the cleaning supplies with him. “You do realize that if someone does become a sugar baby, they aren’t entitled to paying for your shit either.” In response, Haechan grumbled under his breath as he gave the bewildered customer overhearing the odd conversation their fruity treat.

Jisung has visited his closest friends enough to know that working at the café is like a beautifully choreographed dance. It moves like clockwork; with the six doing their roles diligently and without question. So, it’s not unusual for his friends to come and go during the conversation – all taking part whilst separating themselves at the same time.

“Why don’t you just ask Chenle if you could work here?” Renjun suggested, coming out from the back room where he started baking some more pastries – obvious through his powdered apron. “We all work here already, and we can go through the ropes with you.”

Jeno immediately stepped in and basically rejected the offer. “Do you remember the last time we hosted an event and Jisung wanted to help?” He prompted, before chuckling. “He tried to wash the food with dish soap…and he broke the broom when cleaning!”

Almost as if the thought of teasing Jisung summons him, Chenle came out of seemingly nowhere. “Didn’t he leave the broken broom on the floor and just started playing video games?” Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun nodded – remembering the mess the 00-line apartment was that night.

“Not the best party we hosted.” Jaemin commented, going around the counter to make his own drink now that the list of waiting customers is gone. “But, still, Jisung learns fast. I think he could work here.”

Chenle let out an introspective hum, before leaning over to whisper to Haechan. With a questionable look on their faces, Chenle decided to call Jisung into the back room and in his makeshift ‘managers office’ (a perk of being family with the owner of the university café). “I’ll consider your application, but I can’t do any nepotism.” He started, “so, you must go through the whole application process.” He paused. “You must come up with your own recipe.”

With a rule to not discuss recipes with his ‘potential future co-workers’ – which Chenle weirdly specified as everyone but Haechan, Jisung had to get straight to work. In all honesty, he had no baking experience nor ever made a drink without a guiding recipe.

While his six closest friends were out of the equation, he had another friend he could reach out to; Y/N.

You were in his freshmen orientation group earlier this year. Not going to lie, you initially thought of each other as familiar faces who you’d occasionally wave at or nod in acknowledgement when you walk past each other. However, you later found yourself eating in the same hall cafeteria…and then the same hall pantry…and then, it clicked. You two lived only four doors away from each other in your university hall.

Needless to say, you two ran midnight McDonald trips basically on a weekly basis. You became integral to Jisung’s daily routine; from waking each other up for breakfast to storming into each other rooms, armed with complaints and rants about the shitty professor who made you read 300 pages for one night. Even on your busiest days, you two would always pick each other up for the hall provided breakfasts and dinners.

So here you were - Jisung was slouching down on your desk chair while you were resting on the bed, your back against the wall and a pillow in your lap as you tried to help Jisung solve his current problem. “Well…did Chenle give you a prompt or anything?”

Jisung shook his head, groaning back. “It’s not like we have a kitchen to try and bake either! We only have fridges and a microwave and a….” He tried to recall what was on the floor pantry.

“Just a fridge and a microwave.” You added. “That means pastries are off the table…how about a drink?”

Jisung groaned again. “I have a hard time making pre-made coffee!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle; you remembered that day. It was a scary time for you; your credit card company sent you a text about a fraudulent use of your student account. Not only did you end up stressing to the point of crying, but you also learned it was a false alarm. Luckily, while still reeling from the anxiety inducing news, you ran into Jisung as he was leaving his room. He then took you to the pantry to try and cheer you up with coffee…however, a fire alarm went off and practically deafened the whole university housing cohort for hours.

And poor Jisung…Jisung was just an awkward little mouse, trying to look innocent as he saw his exhausted neighbors clamber out into the park due to his attempt of making pre-made coffee.

“Well…you have me. This isn’t hopeless.” Climbing off the bed, you pretended to dust yourself off. “So, let’s go to the pantry? Another one of our…”

Jisung quickly furrowed his brows, interjecting while you still spoke “I don’t think this can be considered snacking…”

“Pantry-time dates.” You stuttered, obviously unsure of the title. Usually, you call them ‘cup noodle dates’ or ‘popcorn dates’; a joke that ran through your small group of friends as well as the resident advisors at the university hall.

No one likes being in the pantry. Especially the second floor. For one, things always get stolen; from cutlery to a six pack of coke. Secondly, the few times people use the microwave to heat up their meals, they tend to leave the leftovers to rot on the windowsill. But you and Jisung sit there together; maybe because something about it feels open and comfortable, despite the terrible smell. Plus…the two of you placed bets on who could be the thief when people awkwardly clamber on by, and if on one of these ‘dates’ you catch the thief obviously taking something that isn’t theirs? Even better.

But today… you two will have to be the forsaken thieves.

“So someone put chocolate powder in the fridge…” You commented incredulously, especially as this fridge is known for freezing things into ice in minutes. “There’s some…expired milk.” Jisung watched as you searched through the fridge for any hidden treasures; feeling more and more unsure of himself as you listed more and more ingredients. “Oh, okay, some non-expired milk. That will be useful.”

“We can make a latte?” Jisung offered, now on his phone searching up popular café drinks.

“Yes!” You enthused, finally feeling like this trip to the pantry isn’t useless after all. “But…we should probably write an apology note to the people we’re stealing from.”

It’s been almost five hours in the pantry. Countless of people came in (however, this time you tried not to place bets as you knew who the real thieves were tonight) and would just stare at the two of you, arguing over a kettle of milk. Even your neighbor Victor came in; having sat and watched you two for a good while (which made Jisung extra cautious; he’s had a theory about him being the forsaken pantry thief for a while). Victor, however, said you two should have a cooking show, to which you scoffed while Jisung basked in the compliment. This very same compliment crossed Victor off of Jisung’s “potential criminals” list.

Eventually, you had a drink in front of you. A chocolate latte that Jisung insisted on putting salt in, as “Modern Family said it was a good idea”. Admittedly, the first ten versions of this drink were absolute failures; making you go to the bathroom numerous times to vomit out the thick and almost flour-like texture.

So, for your final check, the two of you grabbed the non-eaten pastries Jisung brought home from the café. Hopefully, this will act as a palette cleanser; especially since tasting all of the failed drinks probably have messed with your taste buds and lowered all sorts of expectations.

After taking bites into the Suh-ndwitch and Henpretzel, you two finally took sips of the drink you attempted to make since 10pm – with Jisung making far too many references to the Powerpuff Girls opening theme.

Alas – the taste that flooded their senses wasn’t at all bad, no. Nor was it ‘a little bit of sugar and everything ice’, but it was something you’d expect from Starbucks. You two immediately squealed out of excitement, ignoring the fact that you probably woke the neighboring rooms up at three in the morning. Jisung immediately went over to hug your waist, spinning you around as fast as he could; before something unexpected happens.

You felt his lips on yours; tasting like chocolate and leftover ingredients that were remnants from his palette cleanser of a sandwich. The feeling was foreign; you never expected to kiss Jisung. He was your best friend, your neighbour; but his lips were soft…and something about this felt right.

But then the door slammed opened. A zombie-like RA came in and you two immediately jumped to different sides of the room. “I know you two always do your pantry dates, but…” The RA started, obviously sluggish from being woken up at 3am. “We got noise complaints.”

Jisung awkwardly coughed, apologized, and ran away; leaving you confused in the corner of the pantry.

Café Resonance were never busy Friday evenings. People were most likely out pubbing or preparing for their weekends of antics. So when Jisung stormed in with a recipe in hand, he wasn’t afraid to celebrate as loudly as if he had just won the Olympic World Cup. “I got the recipe! Can I please have the job?” He practically pleaded, dropping the piece of paper with messy handwriting and the sample drink you two whipped up again the night prior. On top of the page with chocolate colored stains were the words; “Hamji Choco Latte” with (served hot or cold) at the bottom.

“A recipe?” Everyone but Haechan and Chenle looked confused; with the latter two smirking in the corner of the room. But as soon as Haechan cracked and let out a loud laugh, Mark turned around and immediately recognized the culprits of this misunderstanding.

“Bruh,” Chenle let out throughout his charming ‘dolphin laugh’, “You had the job – I was just messing with you.”

Haechan pouted, approaching Jisung to ruffle his hair. “My sweet, small, dumb idiot…how much I love you.” He placed a sloppy kiss at the corner of his head, making Jisung immediately try to scrub it off.

Jisung scowled, upset he let himself get fooled by his best friends. “At least I got a girlfriend from it…” He mumbled, more to himself, but forgetful of how Jeno’s ears can pick up on anything. It was from my ASMR stint, Jeno would say.

“WHAT!?” He exclaimed, as if Jisung getting a girlfriend would happen the day pigs would fly.

“I sent you to make a café recipe, not a love potion!” Chenle cackled even more; while his fellow friends made him explain what happened.

By the time the store closed, Jaemin gave Jisung the ‘talk’ and warned that although they spent nights in each other’s rooms before, Jisung and you must be ‘safe’ and ‘protected’.

People always say the first people you become friends with at university don’t always stay friends for life. People tend to clash, find their hobbies, and go different ways. But Jisung was lucky. He met you; his best friend and now his other half. And despite the annoying prank Chenle made that wasted hours of your time, Chenle was right; the Hamji Choco Latte was basically a love potion as it brought the hidden infatuation you had for each other to light.

Now, every time he picks you up from your lecture hall, he brings one extra-large chocolatey drink to share.

“Email sent out to residents of NCU Hall:

Dear residents of the second floor,

The person who has been stealing cultlery and food has been identified. Victor Cho will be coming by to return any items that may have belonged to you.”

Jisung screamed at the top of his lungs when he got this email. “I TOLD YOU SO!”

#nct-writers #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jisung fluff #jisung scenarios #jisung imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct scenarios #jisung drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles

81 notes · View notes

sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

Text

Just Us (Chapter Two: Expedition)

← Chapter One

A Month Later

The newspaper was open on the counter as I handed a customer a croissant and their overly-sweetened coffee. I was flipping through the pages, trying to find anything about the Scout’s latest expedition outside of the walls and if they had posted a casualties list.

“Eva? Miss. Eva? Eva?!” I looked up again and noticed the kids trying to pull themselves taller than the counter to get my attention. How long were they asking for me?

“Elias! June! What can I get for you today?” They put their spare change on the counter and counted it out. Not enough to buy a single cup of coffee combined.

“What can we get for this much, Miss. Eva?” I smiled down at them again and pointed to the muffins I had cooling on the table. Blueberry was their favorite.

“If you both clean off the tables for me, by the time you’re done the muffins will be cool enough.” They nodded furiously and I handed them two rags. They both went off and divided the work. June was taller so she would try and wipe down the tables because she could reach the center, and Elias would reach the empty cups and plates and put them into the dish bin. Some of the old people looked at their running and saw it as annoying, but I just stared at them with a smile, reminding me of when I was a kid in this café. Having no concept of money, I would do chores and Mr. Flynn would just give me enough money to get a single piece of candy from the shop down the street. My labor definitely outweighed the money I received for it, but I was just happy getting candy.

I turned my back on the kids, taking the newspaper with me, leaning on the glass case. It was a Saturday morning, so everyone had the luxury of sleeping in and not going to work but me. The bakery has to be open almost 24/7 so I can break even. Scanning the pages, I finally found what I was looking for. On the last page was only one paragraph describing the maneuver that the Scouts had done this past month taken from an interview from Commander Erwin. Something about implementing long-distance formations. Erwin’s speaking and various prints on the newspaper had shown him on opposite end of the coin of his captain. He seemed bright, personality and looks wise, and almost like a knight from fairytales. If Erwin was bright, then Levi was dark; maybe only in the form of rumors that I had yet to prove true.

Glancing over at the kids’ process, I found myself looking at the spot he sat. It was empty, and even if a group had sat there, it seemed empty. Their presence wasn’t as big as his. I laughed, big presence, little body. Maybe he’s compensating.

It’s been a little over a month since he had been back to the café. That usually marked that the Scout had died, but I had a weird string of faith for him. If he’s Humanity’s Strongest, there’s no way an expedition would end him. Also, the thought of it being a freak visit made me a bit sad, but if I only met him once, it would be better than meeting him many times and then never again.

“Miss. Eva, we’re done!” I handed the two muffins and their smiles were big enough to take me out of my thoughts completely.

“Here you go Miss. Eva.” June handed me the coins and I shook my head.

“You paid for the muffins by cleaning. Go buy some candy down the street. If you tell him that Eva sent you, he might give you a free piece.” Elias’s, the younger, eye’s widened at the chance of free candy, but June seemed a bit reserved. She looked down at the floor and had one foot moving around on tiptoe. She wanted to ask me something. Was she too embarrassed to ask it in front of her little brother?

“Eli, can you go buy me a lollipop? I want to sit here and eat my muffin.” He didn’t care about anything other than the candy he was going to get, so he nodded and took off. I watched as he ran through the small crowd on the street.

“Now, what do you want to ask me June?” Her face went red and she was still staring at the floor.

“How...How do you know you like a boy?” I almost choked on air and made sure I heard her right. She had a mother, but she comes and asks the baker that gives her free food. I should take it as a complement and I should tell her not to worry about boys until she was older. These kids are getting more and more mature than I was at eleven.

“Why are you asking me that?” She put the muffin on the counter.

“W-Well I know a lot of boys like you! So, you have to know how!” She got confident with her last sentence, but it was the first one that shocked me. Where were these men? She might just be exaggerating to get her point across.

“I didn’t know that a lot of boys liked me, June. I just stay in this building almost all day. What boys?”

“Um… I was told not to tell you.” I narrowed my eyes at her and thought of a way to get it out of her.

“If I tell you how to know you like a boy, you have to tell me what boys like me. Your mother is one of the people telling me I should get married soon. You could help me with that.” She nodded furiously and easily betrayed whoever the man was.

“When you like a boy… hm. I’ve only ever liked a few boys, June. I guess it starts with you wanting to talk to them a lot. You hope that whenever you’re in the same room as them, they come and talk to you. When you’re at school do you want this boy to come over to your desk?”

“Yes, but he only goes to his other friend’s desks.” She huffed and rested her chin on the counter. Cute. I reached over and ruffled her hair.

“Sometimes you get this feeling in your stomach, like butterflies. You get really nervous and can’t talk that well to him. You might just stare a lot because you’re too afraid to say anything that might sound stupid.” She sat up again, a more determined look on her face.

“So then how do I know he likes me?” I wiped the spot where her chin was on the table. My hands were definitely in need of some lotion or balm. It wasn’t even winter yet and they were still cracking over the amount I used them.

“It’s hard to tell with boys. Sometimes they’ll be mean to you and it still means they like you. Sometimes they won’t talk to you at all, but they’ll just stare at you too. Some boys will also just talk and talk to you about anything. Boys your age are pretty dumb. Boys are dumb in general, actually. It doesn’t get better with age.” She nodded in agreement and I ruffled her hair a little bit more, seeing that Elias was already running back with a small bag.

“So that’s how I know Jonas likes you. Because he doesn’t stop talking to you.” My eyes widened a little bit as something I was suspicious of being confirmed.

“Jonas said that?” She nodded.

“He says he thinks you’re the prettiest girl in Trost and probably of all the districts.” She covered her mouth like it was going to help she spilled her confidant’s secret.

“Well isn’t that sweet of him.” Elias almost fell opening the door to come back in. Once he stopped he was breathing hard and put the bag of candy on the counter.

“Guess who I saw coming this way, Eva!” His words barely came out through his hard breathing and coughing. I turned around to get him a glass of water.

“I don’t know, Elias. With you’re yelling it’s gotta be someone cool.”

“You have to guess, Eva!”

“Oh, I don’t know! A tit-” My words stopped when I turned back around to give Elias water. It was a sudden return and I didn’t know how to react to it. However, it made sense. I saw the people gather a few days ago to welcome them back.

“Captain.” He was wearing his uniform still, the hood of his cape making him even darker, but I was glad he took it off when meeting my eyes. June and Elias moved aside, leaving their things on the counter.

“One cup of black tea, please.” I smiled a bit and nodded as he took the coins from his pocket. Today, I wouldn’t make a suggestion. It seemed like he was running on two hours of sleep and needed something. I would have suggested coffee, but I didn’t think he’d accept it.

He went to sit in the same spot and something inside of me lit up. It wasn’t empty anymore. Now that he had come a second time, he would have to start coming back. It wasn’t a fluke.

“Bye, Miss. Eva!” June pulled Elias out of the café, no doubt to go and spy on Captain Levi from a different angle. I looked up at the clock on the wall to see if he had returned at the same time. It was closer to one o’clock, meaning if he stayed the same length of time, he’d be here at closing. Something about that made me excited.

The café filled with a total of 4 people felt so alive now that he was in it. Maybe it was because he had broken the perpetual boredom inside of me. It could also be because his actions proved that it wasn’t a freak accident leading him here. The Captain had to be intelligent and calculating, so the fact that he chose here was ever more intriguing.

I poured the tiny bowl of honey again and walked over to his table. With the small number of people here, I might also have a better chance of having a conversation.

“One black tea for the Captain.”

“Thank you.” It was short, but not a grunt this time. Progress was being made. I didn’t stand and stare this time but went back to fake reading the newspaper. The news that I wanted showed up at my doorstep, so I just looked at the riddles section.

I wonder how the last expedition went for him. Did he kill more titans? I mean that probably is a given for him. What is it like looking at a titan up close? I had never seen a titan in person, only in drawings, but I was still curious. I put the newspaper down, pretending to go do something, and locked eyes with him right away. He was staring at me. Should I play with him to get him to talk? No. I just smiled and turned to go do some fake task. Apparently, wiping the counter that June and Elias cleaned seemed to be that task.

The tables! I grabbed the bucket on the floor and a rag that Elias used. They may have done it already, but if it gave me some reason to talk to Captain, then I guess the tables have to deal with being extra clean... and my hands would have to deal with being extra dry.

“Oi.” It was soft and I looked up from the 5th table. I pointed to myself and he nodded, “This table needs to be wiped again. Whoever did it before did a bad job.” I narrowed my eyes and thought of Elias as he ran around cleaning. He just insulted my kid.

“It looks clean to me,” I retorted sounding a bit childish. I had a kid’s legacy to protect. He wiped a finger on the wood and held it up to me. His finger had nothing on it. Never knew someone who could kill titans would also be a clean freak. Isn’t that an oxymoron?

“It’s dirty. I might even report you to the police for keeping food in this environment.” I huffed and put the bucket on the floor, noticing that a few drops had hit his boots. I’m sure he didn’t leave that unnoticed either, tsk, the clean freak. He might make me buy him new ones.

I leaned over and cleaned the table while he lifted his cup and saucer up. It was then I realized how close he was to me and how much he was staring. This time he wouldn’t glance away every time I looked back, almost like he was inspecting my cleaning.

“There you go, Captain.”

“It’s Levi. Just Levi. You’re not my subordinate.” Huh, was this him trying to be nice and sociable? I’ll take it.

“And it’s Evlynn Flynn. I know unfortunate naming, but I didn’t pick it. Everyone calls me Eva. Just Eva.” I mimicked him and he seemed to not care about the joke I just made. Guess he wouldn’t like the riddle section of the paper.

“What were you reading about?” I put the rag back into the bucket like I was going to move onto the next table. Who was I kidding?

“Huh?”

“The newspaper. What were you reading?” Oh. Now, if I told him that would be embarrassing. Isn’t this the second time that this has happened?

“Just everything. I read about your last expedition. The papers seem to not deem it important. They gave your commander just one paragraph.” He set his cup down. He was only half way done... this soon?

“Well, at least they published something this time. Usually, we just get nasty looks.” I laughed a bit, and his expression told me that that wasn’t a joke.

“I think it’s the last few expeditions you’ve had. You’ve come back with less and less dead. It seems so… calm outside the walls. Not many titans to fight. Maybe they’re getting ready to hibernate for the winter.” He nodded and seemed like he wasn’t going to continue the conversation. A man of few words. One rumor: true.

Assuming he was done talking to me, I turned to fake wash the other tables.

“Why are you interested in the Scouts? Not a lot of people are.”

“Oh, well, I have to have something to give me hope, right?” I looked at the chair behind me that was very much open. No, I wouldn’t sit today. Give him something to hope for too.

“Hope? From the Scouts?”

“Yeah. If anyone is going to save us from the titans, it has to be the ones actively killing them, right? The Garrison, they’re the ones who give me no hope. They come in on duty and drink my coffee supplies down the drain. I have to go to the capital to get those.” He finished his cup of tea and I looked up to the clock. It had only been an hour.

“Do you also get your tea from the capital?” I nodded and went to clean the table closest to him. It made him turn to me and that’s when I realized he did want to talk. Like actually talk.

“Sometimes it’s the marketplace by the gates. Other times it’s the one by Mitras. The two you drank were specialty from some dealer in the underground who deals in Mitras. I think he scammed me for them, but if you’re enjoying them, then I guess it’s worth it.” His face had a look of recognition.

“That’s why I remember this taste. I’ve had these teas before.” Rumor number two confirmed. Levi was from the underground.

“You were born in the underground.” It wasn’t a question and he nodded, “Me too.” I don’t know what made me spill such a big part of my life to him, maybe the fact that we were the same, but I didn’t feel any regret like I did when I told Jonas the first time. He understood what it meant to be from there.

After that, it was a comfortable silence as I went on fake cleaning. We had reached a point of similarity and that was enough. I tended to customers and gave him a second cup of tea when he asked. For the amount of time he stayed, it was probably their few days off after an expedition. I wonder when he’d have to go back to the HQ from Trost. Do they have houses inside Trost? I know some of the older Scouts relocate their families here to be closer, but the chance of Levi having family was low. Those would be questions for another visit.

“Have a good dinner, Mrs. Markas!” She waved from the door as she took her bag of bread. I looked at the clock again. It would be time to get ready to close soon. Levi was still in his chair, looking out at the dinnertime rush. I sadden a bit at our future parting when I kicked him out. I might just let him sit until I have to go upstairs to sleep.

The last few customers came through and I looked at the small amount of bread left. No one was going to come in anymore. Time to close.

I grabbed my broom and went to open the door so I could sweep dirt outside.

“Captain?” I leaned over so I could see if he reacted to me calling him. What I saw made my eyes widen in surprise. His eyes were closed, his head tilted a little back, and he was breathing heavily. Was he… sleeping? I thought he stopped talking to me because he didn’t have anything to say. How long was he sleeping?

I stopped sweeping to give him a good look in the setting sun. The dark circles were still there, but his face had completely softened. His hair was swept back revealing all of his face. Even with his sharp features, when he was sleeping, something had changed. He looked peaceful. I decided not to ruin precious sleep for him, remembering the state he walked in with, and I cleaned around him. Even when I took his cup, he didn’t flinch or wake up. Good, he needed sleep. I was also a little happy he decided to do it in my café.

I closed the windows and turned the lamps up a bit so I could still see what I was doing. Should I wake him up now? It’s getting late and he’d have to ride back to the HQ in the dark. He might even get in trouble for being out so late. Groaning, I walked over to shake him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, I shook him softly.

“Levi? Levi? Captain Levi?” With the last one, his eyes shot open and his hand slammed on the table. I jumped away from him. Good thing I had moved the teacup a few minutes ago. Within seconds of him waking up, the hardness was back again and it was like he never took a nap.

“What time is it?” He looked up at me and probably was confused that I held my heart in my hand. He had scared me waking up so violently.

“It’s almost five at night. I thought you might need to head back to HQ.” He stood up almost knocking the chair over. Huh, he was actually a few centimeters taller than me.

“Um, yes, I… I need to head back. I have paperwork to fill out.” I nodded and settled myself back to normal, taking a step to give him a free path to the door.

“Have a good night, Levi. I hope your next expedition goes well.” He nodded and grunted once.

“Goodnight...Eva.”

Chapter Three →

Chapter Masterlist

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x oc #levi x reader #captain levi #levi heichou #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #aot #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin

62 notes · View notes

everlarkbirthdaygifts · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday, jbsaucy!

Happy belated Birthday, @jbsaucy! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 16th, and that you celebrated in style! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

For this year, I am recently divorced and trying to get the nerve up to get out there. So I would like to request a 30/40s Everlark, post divorced meeting

Jbsaucy

Dear Jbsaucy I hope you had a wonderful birthday. I apologize for the lateness, and I hope you had a wonderful day. This prompt BTW was amazing and I had a great time writing it. It was a blast. Thank you to Norbertsmom for Betaing

Rated T

Title: OFF THE MARKET

-kpkpkpkp-

Divorce sucks. SUCKS.

Getting divorced sucks, being divorced sucked.

But nothing, not the tedious nature of dividing unwanted movies, the fear of root canals, or getting a speeding ticket, compared to dating. Dating, ladies and gentlemen, after being married for ten years sucked royally.

ROYALLY!

After my divorce, my attorney suggested I get a hobby or join a club. I really wasn’t a social person. Not much of a talker, and avoided any and all spotlights. It was this fear of the spotlight that originally brought me in contact to my now ex-husband, Darius.

My best friend Gale pushed me to do one of those karaoke nights. I panicked and ran straight into Darius. He thought I was cute, and I was grateful he went up with me to the karaoke microphone. He sang and I laughed. The rest is history; the marriage only lasted ten years. But I knew we weren’t right for one another, partially because Darius was a very sexual person, for me sex wasn’t important. I got more enjoyment out of getting my teeth cleaned. He found someone who revved his engine and I got the fica and dates.

Yup Dates.

How did that happen you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you I followed my divorce attorney’s suggestion. Preface-OUTSIDE OF A COURTROOM NEVER EVER FOLLOW YOUR DIVORCE ATTORNEY’S ADVICE.

With that warning sign, I digress. Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Wait for it... I joined a book club.

It was the only natural course of action. After our divorce I got all of the books. You see one of the things Darius and I loved to do was go to bookstores. We’d buy all of these books with the intention of reading them, and we never did. We had bookshelves filled with books from the 100 Must-Read Classic Books by Penguin. So after my divorce, I sat in my newly minted apartment with a box of wine and all of these books.

I was looking at the boxes, my divorce papers jutting out. Amongst them there was a note - with the name of a book club, the real 451 book club, with an address. I called them the Squad 451 or the Squad. The women were a hodgepodge of personalities; the right blend of sweet and crazy. There is Mags, the motherly type. She has boatloads of grandchildren. Then there is her neighbor Greasy Sae who runs a diner in town. I used to go to her diner as a kid and consume her mystery meat soups. The older woman is bawdy and half of the things she says makes me blush redder than a red bean. Next is Annie, a shy, slightly mad girl who is a librarian. Delly has the personality of the southern bell who wears pink and believes in romance. I’ve known of Delly forever; she and I went to the same high school.

Foxface, has one of those names with multiple consonants and vowels but prefers to go by Foxy or Foxface. She is freakishly smart and sometimes, I think she has blackmarket dealings because she’s so secretive. Then there is Effie, the middle aged, tightly wound woman whose book choices are as repressed as she is, like Jane Eyre. And last, but not least, is my divorce lawyer, yes the very same one who suggested I get a hobby, Johanna Mason who is, well, a sex fiend.

I started meeting up with them, and six months after my divorce, that’s when the ladies conspired against me and set up my profile on one of those dating websites looking for men, for me. I had no idea, and on my birthday, they presented me with their “gift.”

It was the gift you didn’t want, like a pimple on your wedding day or the runs before an important interview, or bad breath before a first kiss.

Greasy said that if I didn’t use my, well, feminine - looks around - petals. That they’ll dry up and turn into ugly petunias. I announced sex wasn’t important, and even friged Effie said a lady needed to literally, figuratively, and metaphorically, occassionally let her hair down.

I said NO.

I demanded.

I scowled.

Nothing helped.

They created a profile based upon themselves, and yet through describing themselves they pegged me. I was nurturing. I had a sexy edge. I was introverted, and yet mysterious. I was smart, honest, loyal and a closet romantic. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll hunt you down, even after I’m dead.

They split me up like a kid of divorced parents being schlepped from one house to the other. They set themselves up in teams and each team got to pick my dates. And everytime we met for a book club meeting, I was to dutifully report on the date. Based upon their success, a second date would be permitted.

It was a simple proposition.

I was naive. A stupid idiot, or as Bugs Bunny say’s, a maroon.

Because I hadn’t really ever been out there.

To be honest, I met Darius right out of high school, at my first college party, and we were married - okay it wasn’t a big wedding. It really wasn’t a wedding at all. It was a spur of the moment, we got drunk and ended up at one of those Elvis chapel impersonators. Annnnd bada-bing.

I never really dated, so I agreed with the book club’s plan, because how hard could dating be?

And thus began my nightmare.

I must state, or emphatically note, not all of my “dates,” were catastrophically bad. To be fair, most of the time I wasn’t interested. Delly said I wasn’t romantically pulled. Johnna said my engine wasn’t revved up. Greasy said if the man didn’t make me want to orgasam with a look, then he wasn’t worth my time. I posed this question to the universe: How in blazing blue inferno does a man make a woman...well you know, with a look? Was that even possible?

A hazy yellow fuzz enters my head and my mind wanders. I conjure up blue eyes and translucent lashes that never tangle.

Sigh.

…. (my brain just short circuited at the thought of large hands)

Earth to Katniss.

Okay sorry, I spaced out for a little bit, and their words spurred me on to continue my journey. And one year after my divorcce I had stories, no I have battle scars. To prove my point, the following are my top three worst dates. In no particular order.

Date Disaster # 1 was with an artsy type at a chique Italian restaurant. He arrived late, and was drunk, high, or both. Then fell asleep on his plate of bolognese. Yup, in his plate of spaghetti and meat sauce. I paid for my half, tucked my tail between my legs and left.

Date Disaster #2 was with a small man with glasses and a massive intellect who didn’t stop talking about flamingos. FLAMING PINK FLAMINGOS. My brain shut down. I didn’t hear the music in the jazz themed restaurant. I didn’t even taste the heat in the gumbo. The only factoid I remembered when we said goodnight was that flamingos were gray when they were born. I couldn’t even tell you how they became pink. The man was the human form of anesthesia for my soul.

Date Disaster #3 was a nice man. We laughed. And everything was going well. We ordered drinks, a cranberry and soda for me, the bartender special for him while we waited for our table. Turns out he has a milk allergy and the bartender special had milk. When we sat down at the table and we were talking about our hobbies, his stomach began to grumble loudly. He became pasty and then as the waiter brought out our appetizers, he threw up all over the place. It was a good thing that throwing up didn't bother me, but it bothered our waiter who gagged. Needless to say, I burned the outfit I was wearing.

Those were the top three...but there were more, just simmering to become the top one. And for a time I thought I wasn’t made to date. But the ladies had faith and they were really trying to choose nice, interesting guys. However, nothing, nothing that I could ever imagine could top my latest date.

I’m rushing along the sidewalk. I don’t want to be late, but at the same time, I don’t want to tell them how much of a calamity my latest date was, but to be completely honest, I don’t want to miss it. Tonight is also the night the group meets at Mellark’s. The friendly cafe style bakery with its rich and yummy pastries, both savory and sweet. It is my favorite place to meet. Squad 451 meets twice a month in different locations, including one of the two meeting rooms in the library, one of the community rooms in the Justice Building, and on our birthdays, we meet in a restaurant, but the bakery on Main Street is our favorite location. The Mellarks owned several locations. The flagship store was always managed by one of the original family members.

If George Senior, or the middle son Ryan Mellark is at the helm of the bakery, they allow us to cavort in the shop until close. When his older brother George Junior or their Mother Muriel was in charge, we tended to be quiet, relegating our conversations to the books. When Peeta is in charge, there are free cheese buns and chaos.

Please, stomach gods, let Peeta be there. I skipped lunch today because I had a deadline. I also forgot my wallet at home. Thankfully, my license was at the bottom of my backpack. I need food before my stomach eats itself. I am starving when I walk into the bakery. When I see Peeta, I stop. His blue eyes meet mine and my stomach flip flops. He gives me a slow sweet smile, before his eyes slide back to the customer who is ordering.

“Katniss,” Delly squeaks, waving frantically.

Somehow, my feet carry me over to the table and there is a plate of cheese buns and I thank every celestial being in the universe. His buns are heavenly. Sitting down, I take a napkin and snatch one. My mouth waters and my lashes close as I bring the cheese bun to my mouth. The smell of melted cheese, fresh bread, and the hint of dill, assuage my nose, before I bite into one of Peeta’s coveted flaky concoctions. The combination of the oozing cheese, the herbs and the buttery bread elicit a moan from deep within my being. These freaking cheese buns will be the death of me.

“Wow.” Peeta’s voice causes my lashes to fly open.

Peeta is standing near me with a cup of tea; his face and neck splotchy and red.

My mouth is full of delicious food, but I forgot how to chew.

Delly is looking between us. Her pale blue eyes quizzical, like when she’s trying to understand a concept or theme in a book.

“Okay, bitches,” Johanna says, slamming her brief down. “Where’s the rest of the motley crew?”

“Mags and Greasy just arrived,” Delly answers absentmindedly.

“Hey, Peeta, I need a strong black coffee.”

“Sure,” Peeta says, all the while staring at me. I finally remember to chew. “Here Katniss, your tea.”

Taking the paper cup, I can’t help feeling bashful. “Thank you.”

“Peet,” the girl behind the counter calls.

Whenever Peeta is here, the business is brisk. He is charming. He was always charming, even back in high school he was the most popular guy, not only because of his looks, but because he was genuinely nice. I, like all of the other girls, had a mini crush on him.

Looking over his shoulder he says, “I’ll be right back with your coffee, Jo.”

Now Jo is looking between him and me, but hers is a wicked grin, like right before she nails a sleazebag who doesn’t want to pay for his children. I quirk an eyebrow, clueless as to what has Johanna showing off her predatory gleam.

“Oh, it’s chilly outside,” Mags says.

“It’s colder than Rudolph’s balls outside,” Greasy says, her gruff voice is booming. Several patrons look at her. Greasy does not care. She’s well past her sixties and it’s her motto that she should live each day as if it was her last.

In walks Effie, Annie, and Foxface, and they all say, “Hello,” in unison.

The book of the month is actually a YA fiction called, The Fault in Our Stars, about teens with a terminal illness. I cried when Gus...I tear up once more...at the memory. But I know we aren’t going to discuss Hazel’s predicament with her parents.

“So,” Delly says, bouncing in her chair.

I can’t help but grimace.

“How did it go?” Foxface says. She has an accent, but I can’t place it.

“He looked like he belonged on one of those erotic books Johanna loves to read,” Greasy says, grabbing a cheese bun.

She’s not wrong. Gloss was a blond adonis, with slate blue eyes. And abs that have a flipping twelve pack, I ought to know, I counted them. The words are out of my mouth before I am aware of what I am saying. “He really does with a twelve pack,” I say drinking my tea.

“Did you say twelve pack?” Johanna sat up.

My eyes widen.

“Wait, why are you blushing Katniss?” Foxface narrows her eyes.

“Did you and he…” Annie trails off. Her doe eyes are wide.

“Did you have your first sleepover?” Effie leaned in.

“Or did you dry hump him like a horny-toad dog?” Greasy’s voice bounces in the bakery.

Peeta’s pauses , wiping down the counter and looks directly at me.

“NO!” My voice sounds half strangled.

Jo and Delly exchange a look. “Peeta,” Delly calls him over.

Oh, no, no, no, I say to myself, eyeing how quickly I can get from the back corner to the exit. It is one thing to tell the squad, it is another to have Peeta know. I think I can sprint around the chairs and clear the table near the door like an olympic hurdle jumper.

Peet walks over. “Hey Dells, can I get you ladies anything?”

“Katniss was going to regale us with her latest date,” Delly says.

“She’s going to tell us how she knows her date has Thor’s body.”

“You’re dating?” Peeta asks, looking at me intently.

He doesn’t know I am dating or rather, being raked through hot coals.

“Oh,” Foxface chortles. “She’s dating.”

“Remember the guy who was texting with his mother during the entire date,” Effie said.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mags saids grinning.

“Only the part when he had Katniss talk to her, and it turned out she was psychoanalyzing her to make sure she wasn’t an ax murderer,” Annie said laughing.

“Or what about the guy who kept on mentioning his ex and cried through the crème brûlée,” Greasy slaps her knee, laughing.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Man, those are pretty bad,” Peeta says.

I hold up my finger. “No, those are tame.”

“Tame?” His blue eyes are sparkling. “You mean there are worse dates?”

Delly snorts. “Oh there are worse. I am so glad I am out of the dating pool.”

“Yeah, Gale just loves you,” Annie sighs.

Delly and Gale met when I joined the book club. And while I floundered, they fell in love and now Delly was pregnant.

My eyes shift to Annie. “It’s so much easier when you fall in love.”

“Oh?” I say.

“I met someone,” Annie says softly. “He wants to meet all of us.”

I wonder what type of guy would date quiet, shy, introverted Annie who sometimes says things that remind me of that song from those Freddy movies from the 80’s. I shake my head. Then I narrow my eyes. “Bring him to the next session,” I hear myself say. I want to meet this man, and make sure he will take care of my friend.

“Really.” Annie clasps her hands.

I nod, but I notice Peeta is looking at me with this strange gleam in his eyes. “Ah...yeah.” My voice sounds breathy. I frown, wondering why the heck I sound like one of those girls. You know the ones that always appear in the music videos washing cars and dancing on super yachts. Darius was fascinated by those girls, heck, his new girlfriend looks like one of those girls.

The women are chatting with Annie about the new guy in her life.

“We'll discuss Annie’s beau later,” Mags holds her hand in the air. “I want to hear about Katniss’ date.” Her white hair spills over her shoulder as she fixes me with a look. “So tell us, how do you know Thor has a twelve pack?”

Somehow or another I knew the scrutiny on Annie would be short lived. My time to shine would come, but when I open my mouth to speak I can see a conspiratorial glance between Mags and Annie. And it hits me that they chose this man, because he looked like Thor. I scowl at the women who set me up on this one. Mags and Annie both have a pink tinge to their faces. I would have expected this from Jo or Greasy, but Mags and Annie, well it’s INCONCEIVABLE!

I begin to speak. “He asked me to meet him at the edge of town, near route twelve.”

“Isn't that where Ripper’s place is?” Effie questioned, and she couldn’t hide her revulsion.

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘P’, thinking of the bar that disguised itself as an eatery. It was a seedy diner with cracked linoleum floors, yellowing formica, booths that had patches, blinking lights, and rickety chairs.

“That’s where he asked you to meet him?” Mag’s sounds outraged. “That place is…is-”

“- a bedhaven for unsavory characters,” Foxface finishes.

“You're brainless,” Jo mutters darkly. "Ripper's isn't the type of place you can go to Katniss. You should have called me."

As protective as I am about my friends, so is Jo. She's tough on the outside but has a really soft center. It's what makes her a perfect shark in the courtroom. Not that Darius was a jerk during our divorce. He actually wasn't. Johanna was present at the restaurant where he announced he wanted a divorce. Johanna later said it was my face, the vulnerability I tried to hide was why she took my divorce pro-bono.

“I drove and brought my bottle of mace.” I know what everyone was thinking. The area in town where Ripper’s is located at, made the bad side of town look like a tourist destination. I didn't mind meeting my date there. I was looking forward to a basket of fries. Ripper's had amazing beer-battered fries.

I've been to Ripper's once. I was with Gale and Thom who needed to score fake IDs. I ordered the fries, since I wasn't there for an ill gotten identification. But let me tell you, those fries. Oh! Holy mother of fries, no other fries can compare.

Shivers!

I love food; it's why I'm a food critic now. What's so funny is that it was those fries that began my career as Buttercup, the elusive food critic. Back then I was Buttercup, the fussy eater. I blogged about them, no, I lavished them with love. I love my job. I can go into any restaurant, order anything on the menu, blog about it and get paid handsomely. And, most importantly, I can do it anonymously. Not even Darius knew I was Buttercup. He thought I was a boring housewife. Getting back to the fries, I wasn’t deterred from getting my fries.

“So then what happened?” Annie asked.

“He was there waiting for me. He stood up and smiled. And he's massive-"

"Just like a book cover," Foxface mutters.

"He said his name wasn't Anthony, it’s Gloss.”

“Gloss?” Everyone said at the same time.

“Yup.” I sighed. “It was a sign. I should've left." Damn those fries!

“So Gloss…" Peeta's sparkling eyes are on mine, his are an amazing hue of blue, like the indigo milk cap mushrooms. "Looks like Thor." He frowns. "Thor with the long hair or short?"

"Long." The women around me answered as one.

Peeta turned those gorgeous eyes back to me.

Thor isn’t my cup of tea. I shrugged to show my indifference. "Gloss was sporting the Ragnarok look, short hair with facial hair."

I swear I watch Peeta mouth, "short hair."

"Anyway, we sat at a booth. It was packed, actually." That should've been clue number two. Men at a joint like Ripper's at 8:30 on a Friday night, it was by the highway, plausible. But packed with just as many women. "The waitress who took our drink order could barely hear me."

"Was he nice?" Annie asks.

"He was sweet." Truthfully Gloss was a sweet guy. He talked about his mother in a positive way, even if she gave him the name that was another descriptor for shiny objects. "He was attentive too. He told me his mother worked in the makeup industry. "

"That doesn't sound too awful," Delly says.

"He sounds delightful." Mags pushes her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. The gang is getting tired of the story and I hope they will move on to the reason we are gathered, discussing the book we were reading. I begin to reach into my backpack because I really hate purses.

"If he's so delightful, why did he ask you to meet him at Ripper's?" Johanna says in her cross examination voice.

I wince as I take out my book.

"Yes, you must explain." Foxface demands.

"It's not nice to leave us dangling." Effie levels a look at me that has me squirming, feeling like I was being summoned into the principal's office.

"I wanna know how you know Gloss has a twelve pack," Greasy says.

Peeta looks at me expectantly.

Anndddd were back. I sigh. Will he run for the hills when I tell him? Most likely.

"We were talking about dancing.” My voice loses all it’s warmth. “I don't dance."

This causes a rumble of laughter and giggles amongst the women. Peeta looks confused. Finally Delly wipes the tears from her face and gasps, “You should never dance. Ever!”

"That poor man’s toes,” Mags says, her shoulders shaking.

“Do I need to know?” Peeta looks between them.

“I don’t dance!” I growl. The group erupts into another bout of laughter.

“It was a scheme, a dirty underhanded scheme,” Effie says.

The guy I was supposed to date was a dance instructor. He used the dating app as a way to drum up business. When the women meet him, he pairs them with guys who were there for a lesson. He paired me with a poor man named Harry. My nerves got the better of me, because I don’t like to be touched. Harry’s hands were sweaty. Harry tried to dip me as per my date’s instructions. I tripped, and in the process his toes were crushed, and I ended up with a sprained ankle.

When I arrived in crutches to the next book club, well, that was one of those dates that simmers at the surface vying to be in the top three.

“Gloss didn’t believe me. He said anyone can dance. I told him no, and explained that there are people who are predisposed to fly in airplanes, and some who get motion sickness in a car. “

“What happened next?” Foxface asks, moving to the edge of her chair.

“He went to the jukebox.”

“Oh no,” Johanna mutters. “Did he end up in the hospital?”

“Is that how you know he’s got a twelve pack?” Greasy questions. The ladies, and Peeta are all staring at me.

I shake my head. Why couldn’t there be a rush of customers right now? It is calm and I know the odds are against me.

“Spill it!” Johanna demands.

“Well, he queued up a song and waited a beat, and then Lenny’s Kravits’ American Woman started blaring. Gloss started sauntering and spun and did the splits on the floor. Next thing I know, the women in the place go nuts. They surround him, like a rabid pack of wild dogs.”

“Wait, what!” Delly exclaims her pale eyes bright, she grips the book in her hand.

“That doesn’t happen,” Peeta says.

“It does to her,” Foxface said, her eyes shining with ferocity, like the eyes of those women at Rippers.

“Shut it blondie,” Johanna orders.

“Yeah,” Annie says.

Taking a deep breath I continue. “He started dancing...hips…” my brain flashing to his hips gyrating. “...jutting out and…”

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Greasy cackles.

“Gyrating, his hips gyrating,” Foxface gasps.

With eyes closed I nod. “His hips were doing that all over the place. He then jumped on the table and proceeded to rip off his shirt. He shouted my name and told me his next move was his favorite. He spun onto his knees and slid up in my face before dropping his drawers.” I lower my eyes.

“What,” Delly squeaked. “His pants?”

“It’s like Magic Mike,” Mags whispers.

I know the movie Mag’s is referring to. I’ve never seen it. “Yes.”

“Was he naked-” Foxface began.

“-or was he wearing-” Annie cut Foxface off only to be cut off herself.

“A G-String!” Greasy shouted excited.

I shook my head no. He wasn’t wearing anything, I can feel the heat burning my ears.

“Well don’t stop! What happened next!” Even Effie has lost her sense of propriety.

“As I looked for an escape. It’s then I noticed the poster on the wall, for the Slag Heap.” I pause and sigh, “Men’s Magic Friday Night Extravaganza, and Gloss was the headliner. I realized he’s a stripper.”

And the place erupts in laughter.

“What did you do?” Peeta asks.

My eyes connect with his.

“I slunk down to the floor and crawled my way out...drove to the hospital and made my sister administer a tetanus shot.”

“Can I have his number?” Johanna says laughing but her eyes are dead serious.

Peeta is smiling at me and I grab a cheese bun because they are as delicious as the man staring at me.

Eventually we do get to the book, and it’s a pretty good discussion. Peeta let us stay until closing. Mags and Greasy are the last of the ladies to leave. It’s just me and Peeta since he let the staff go home. I’m loitering because I feel like I need to explain to Peeta why I let the ladies talk me into dating.

I’m putting up the chairs on the tables when Peeta comes out.

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my feet.

“Katniss.”

“Peeta.” We both say at the same time, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“You first,” Peeta insists, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dating wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn't?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shake my head.

“So what happened?”

“The ladies, they got me a year long subscription for my birthday, and knowing I wouldn’t go through with it, they choose who I date...until I find someone,” I can feel the heat rising from my neck and reaching my cheeks, “I like.”

“Really?”

I nod, incapable of speaking. I cannot stop watching the way he blinks, those darned translucent lashes that never tangle.

“Dating is pretty brutal.”

“Yeah,” I snort because dating is horrible.

“My family is constantly setting me up. I went out with a girl who sang through the entire meal. She chose the pasta and sang On Top of Spaghetti.”

“What?” I laugh.

“That was my dad’s doing. My mom’s choice was a lot scarier. She made me do an obstacle course and made me do it three times until I beat the time she wanted me to reach.”

“Wow.”

“I was dressed in dress slacks, a nice shirt, and a tie.” He deadpans, “I even had on dress shoes.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shrugs.

I couldn't help but smile.

“Dating sucks until you find someone who makes you laugh, someone who makes dancing easy.”

He approaches or maybe it’s my own feet that carry me to him. But it doesn’t matter because when his arm slides along my waist, and the other cradles my hand, I have no fears. There is something familiar with him as I dance with him. A slow shuffle, that has the room spinning but none of it matters because I feel at home.

“Will you dance with me Katniss?” His voice rumbles in my ear and my heart is pounding in my chest.

His scent is a warm heady mixture of spices, dill, vanilla, and cinnamon.

“Would you go out with me Katniss?”

“Yes,” I answer, and just like that my dating profile goes up in flames. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially off the market.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

73 notes · View notes

onedoesnotsimplywriteafanfic · 3 years

Text

That is what you get for saving the enemies wife

(I do not own the Gif)

Characters: Jax, Juice, Opie, Tig, Chibs, Half Sack/kip, Gemma, mentioned ; HectorSalazar, Clay morrow

Pairing: Prospect Juice X reader, Jax x Sister!reader

Summary: When you walked by the clubhouse of the Calaveras, you notice smoke coming out of the building. After a better look you find out the clubhouse is on fire. You decided at first not to interfere but after hearing someone crying for help you climbed trough a window without hesitation. A women is trapped in the burning room, while you break open the door you try not to get notice because you’re on enemies ground. No one saw you help the women later know as the girlfriend of Hectar Zalasar, only leaving the building trough the window you came.

Zalasar is determent you started the fire and wants revenge. Sending you a package filled with an acid bomb which leaves you blind after opening.

Seven years after and still trying to make the best of your life you grow closer to the new prospect. He is the first one besides your brother you open up to over the incident.

Warnings: none?

Word count: 5,709

Navigating through a room filled with black smoke, I looked for the door. My lungs filled with smoke and my eyes full of tears I struggled to kick in the door. The silhouette of a woman was barely visible. I ran in and helped the woman to her feet. With one arm around her waist and the other I held her arm, which was over my shoulders. At walking pace we walked through the corridors to the main entrance. I let her go a few meters before the entrance. Saying she had to move on herself.

I turned around and walked back to the room from which I had entered. Looking back, the woman tried to identify me but all she saw was the logo on my jacket. The reaper.

With my whole body wrapped in cold sweat, I shot straight up in my bed. Gasping and coughing, I panicked and tried to look around but everything was dark. Tears came to my eyes when I found out it was a dream. After I had calmed down, I put my feet next to my bed. I stroke over my clock on my bedside table for the time, half past two. With a sigh I got to my feet and walked more cautiously to the kitchen.

Navigating through the hall with one hand on the wall, I found my way. In the kitchen, I took a glass from the counter and filled it with water. I felt the cool liquid slide down my throat. I thought back to my dream, I couldn't remember much of it, but from the way I woke up I had an inkling of what it was about.

I had no regrets about the day or the things I did. Maybe if I had kept walking, my life would have looked different now. A second pair of footsteps came down the stairs, faster than mine. They walked into the kitchen and stopped there. ‘’Jax?’’ I asked out loud. The footsteps could only belong to one person, my brother. ‘’I'm here, darlin’. Another nightmare?’’ I nodded slowly. I heard Jax approach, he pulled me closer and put his arms around me. ‘’I wish I could do something about it, I hate to see you like this.’’ With my arms around his waist, I buried myself in his chest. ‘’It will be okay.’’ It came out less believable than I had hoped.

Jax heard the disappointment in my voice. ‘’I wish I could sit with you on the couch, waiting for you to fall asleep again but the club needs me.’’ I pulled away from him and put a hand on his cheek. ‘’Go, I'll see you later today.’’ I squeezed his cheek softly and smiled. With a kiss on my crown he walked to the door, there he stopped and called. "Will you call when you arrive?" After my accident, he was very protective even though he knew I could take care of myself. ‘’I'll be fine, I'll ride with Mom.’’ I shouted after him. The door slammed back into the lock. With a deep sigh, I refilled my glass with water and then found my way to the couch. I made myself comfortable and started a podcast that I listened to until I fell back asleep.

Later that morning, I was awakened by my mother. "Honey wake up, I'm leaving in thirty minutes." Slowly I woke up. I opened my eyes with a dull feeling. Sitting upright, I felt for the TV remote and paused the podcast. I rubbed my eyes extensively but gently. In the kitchen my mother was busy making coffee and as soon as she had her cup she went straight to the club, which meant that I had to hurry.

Feeling through my closet for the right combination, all my clothes were divided into compartments. Pants, T-shirts, tops, cardigans, blouses and even dresses. Separated by small edges at the top of the railing. My outfit for the day was simple, jeans with a T-shirt and flannel blouse. My shoes were down by the door. Before I left my room I grabbed my cane and sunglasses.

Downstairs my mother had a cup of coffee ready for me. ‘’Drink up." She handed me my mug. ‘’Thank you, Jax is already at the clubhouse.’’ I gave her the heads up. ‘’I suspected it.’’ She looked over her shoulder. I stood against the counter and drank my coffee. Listening to the movements my mother made and the vibrations I felt under my feet, I got the feeling that she was stressed. ‘’Is something wrong, Mom?’’ With my mug between both hands, I looked in the direction I thought she was standing. ‘’The garage, there is another customer who is difficult and your father," she stopped mid-sentence. My father was Clay Morrow, Jax was John Teller's son.

My dad ran the Sons of Anarchy, it was sometimes hard for my mom to agree with some of the decisions but she was 100 percent behind him. ‘’Dad knows what he's doing and we have to trust that.’’ I placed my now empty mug on the counter. ‘’I know, and I do.’’ She stopped and thought. ‘’Let's just go.’’ She said finally. I nodded and walked to the door. Before I left the house I put on my ankle boots and slipped into my denim jacket with my Sons vest over it. Matching my brothers style.

The ride to the club was not long, the sound of the engine filling my ears. The wind blew through my hair through the open window, with my face turned out I felt the rising sun warm my face. The radio echoed softly in the background. With my thoughts elsewhere, I didn't realize we were already there. The car had been parked for a few minutes. My mother taps my arm gently. ‘’Hey, we're here.’’ Blinking my eyes, I sat straight up in the chair. ‘’Thanks for the lift.’’ With a smile, I opened the passenger door and got out.

Always parked in the same place, the same way. Parked backwards in the parkingspot so the passenger was facing the club. That way I knew immediately where to go without asking. ‘’If you need me, I'll be in the office.’’ My mother called from her side of the car. ‘’Okay, I'll come by later, I think.’’ She nodded and walked to the office, without my knowing, I continued my way to the entrance of the club.

Inside, Tig, Chibs and Oppie were sitting at the bar, with Half Sack as the bartender. The four men greeted me one by one. ‘’Hey there Doll.’’ Tig was the first to get up and walk over to me. With one hand on my cheek he gave a kiss on my crown. The goatee on his chin tickled my forehead that made me giggle. ‘’Hey Tig.’’ I said with a big smile on my face. Tig and I were always very close, now worse than ever. People sometimes thought we were together, maybe if he had been a little younger or if I was a little older who knows. Age didn't matter, but deep down twenty years was quite a lot. When Jax wasn't around, Tig was the first to stand up for me and be capable of anything.

Chibs sat at the bar and greeted me candidly. ‘’Oi, love.’’ Chibs was barely understood with his accent and he only said two words. For hours I could listen to him, talking about one of his many stories. The way he told it combined with his accent was everything I lived for. He often talked about his life back in Belfast. The place where he grew up in Northern Ireland.

On the other hand, Opie got up and greeted me with a hug. ‘’Hey kiddo.’’ His arms folded around me. ‘’Good to hear from you again.’’ Opie was on a ride with a few other members and was gone for four days. He was like a brother to me. The three of us grew up. It was always Jax, Opie and myself. ‘’I missed you.’’ I whispered into his chest. His grip around me tightened a little. ‘’Missed you too.’’ He whispered back.

The door behind us opened and by the way and sound of how they walked, Jax emerged from the chapel. ‘’Okay, listen, everyone is expected in the chapel.’’ Opie turned to Jax and stepped aside to show that I was there too. ‘’Hey.’’ Jax said with a smile in his voice. ‘’I'll have a very important job for you.’’ He stopped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘’Oh, really?’’ I looked at him with a tilted head. ‘’Yes, we are getting a new prospect this afternoon. But there is no one who can put him in his place.’’ I had to chuckle the way Jax conveyed it.

Whenever a new prospect came into the club, we treated them like he was less than us, that way we taught them to stand up for themself. Life in a motor club was not easy, the violence, the blood we had on our hands. ‘’So ...’’ he stretched the words. ‘’I was thinking about you, they need to know who to really fear.’’ I laughed. ‘’Okay, I have to do some shopping before the next lockdown, because someone forgot.’’ I emphasized someone and patted him on the chest. ‘’I had Half,’’ I interrupted before placing the blame on the prospect. ‘’No, it doesn't work that way, it was your job and now I can do it.’’ With one hand on my hip, I looked at him. ‘’Sorry, sister.’’ He spoke honestly. ‘’The things I will do for you.’’ I said with a sigh.

Before I closed the club doors behind me, I heard Jax say. ‘’Kip, go with her.’’ And moments after, Kip, also known as Half Sack, came running out. ‘’Hey, wait a minute.’’ He called as he tried to keep up with me. ‘’It's sweet of you, but I can go shopping alone.’’ A panting Kip walked up next to me. ‘’But who will help you with lifting the groceries, do you know how much you have to take back?’’ enough to feed an entire orphanage. ‘’Fine.’’ I said briefly.

I didn’t want Kip to drive us. It was not because I didn’t trust him in a car but I liked to walk. ‘’What do you think they are talking about back at the club?’’ Kip asked out of nowhere. ‘’I don’t know, if it is important we will know soon enough.’’ I answered his question, shrugging my shoulders. Important or not Jax would tell me anyway.

The club was under some stress with the Niners, the police were on our backs and my dad and Jax weren’t speaking on the same page. There was a lot they could have been talking about. On the occasion I was allowed in the chapel, be present by the meeting and be able to vote. Every other time I was not, Jax would always fill me in later on in the day.

The grocery shopping took for ever, people that were complaining that it took me to long to choose a product or that I hit them with my cain. One man, in his late thirties, was ready to start a fight and I was having none of it. Getting more and more angry, not of the fact that he accused me of anything because of my blindness but of my vest.

He was mansplaining me that women didn’t belong in the club and that we were only good for getting beer and sex. It took everything in me not to hit him but I got close. Kip did had to hold me back before I did. ‘’All I am saying is that it women belong in the kitchen not in the club itself and don’t get me started on women wearing the vest.’’ before I handed Kip my cain I checked where the men was standing. ‘’Hold this.’’ I said and let go of I it and took a step forward.

Kip who knew me and what I was capable of, jumped into action and wrapped his arms around my waist holding me back. ‘’If I were you, you should shut up and leave. Blind or not she has a mean right hook.’’ Kip warned the man. The man looked at me, but before he could protest he was asked to leave by the staff of the grocery shop. ‘’I am so sorry ma’am.’’ The young lady of the staff said. I smiled nicely at her. ‘’It’s oké.’’ And continued looking for everything else we needed.

After paying and double checking if we had everything we headed back to the club. Kip was carrying more then he could and I had two bags. ‘’Don’t you think we may have bought to much?’’ he had difficulty walking due the extra wight. ‘’No, with those animals, you can never have enough.’’ I thought back to a couple lockdowns back, we had enough to last two weeks. One week in and the kitchen was empty.

The prospect arrived just after Kip and I had left. The young man in his late twenties of Puerto Rican descent with a mohawk and head tattoos reported to my mother in her office. A soft knock could be heard on the door. ‘’Come in.’’ Gemma called from within the room. Carefully he opened the door and stepped into the small office. Gemma turned herself in her chair and looked at the young man. ‘’I'm looking for Jax Teller. Do you know where I can find him?’’ He immediately got into business. ‘’And who may you be?’’ She asked uninterested, ignoring his question. ‘’My name is Juan Ortiz, I'm the new prospect.’’ He continued talking.

Gemma looked him up and down. ‘’Great.’’ she said and stood up. ‘’Sit’’ She said as if he was a dog and walked out. He did what she said and took a seat in one of the chairs next to the desk. ‘’Don’t touch anything.’’ Gemma said before walking out the door, heading to the clubhouse.

We entered the parking lot of the club and headed inside. ‘’Maybe we should have taken the car.’’ I said as the realization hit me. My feet were sore and I felt bad for Kip. ‘’Need a drink?’’ I asked him, placing the bags on the pool table.

Kip placed his bags on the table as well and made a relieving sound. ‘’I can’t feel my arms anymore, and I am not allowed to drink, yet.’’ he said, pouting. It was one of Jax many weird rules, prospects don’t drink from the bar. ‘’Oh toughen up, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I am the one who offers.’’ Making my way behind the bar.

Neither one of us knew my mother was in the chapel as well until they walked out. Kip was sitting on one of the bar stools and I stood behind the bar. Both a glass of whiskey in hand. The door opened and every one walked out one by one. First my mother, followed by my brother and then the rest of the group.

The first thing Jax noticed was Kip drinking. ‘’What did I tell you,’’ he started but I stopped him. ‘’Shut up and let him have it. He deserved it.’’ I said trying to point him Jax his direction. Kip crabbed my arm and pointed it more to my left. Now I was pointing at Jax. Some chuckles filled the room, mostly of the others while Jax stood with an amused expression. I was the only one who could talk back to him like that.

After a good laugh my mother asked Jax to follow her. The others joined us at the bar for a drink. ‘’You know my poison, doll.’’ Tig said seductively and winked, while adding a sound effect. So I would now he winked, not that I wasn’t already thinking that.

I grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. Everything was labeled with braille, the shelves, the bottles, all to make my life easier. Placing the beer on the bar and before I could let go Tig already took it from me. ‘’Thank you, dear.’’ he said with the utmost sweet voice he could muster.

While we had fun in the clubhouse, talking and drinking, Jax walked back to the office with Gemma. Inside Juan still sitting on the chair, looking like a lost puppy. He noticed the two walking in and stood up immediately. ‘’I’m,’’ he started while holding out his hand, but Jax cut him off. ‘’Don’t care follow me.’’ Jax said and turned around to walk back to the clubhouse.

Every new prospect was treated like a no body when they first got here. The sooner you grew a pair and stood up against them the sooner you got treated as an equal. They both entered the room and all the heads turned to them. I stood still leaning against the bar looking ahead of me.

Neither of the guys spend much attention to Jax and kept talking. The two walked over to the bar, standing close to it to hear their conversation. ‘’One rule, don’t piss off the lady.’’ Jax said while pointing to me, knowing I could hear them. Juan followed his gaze and looked at me. ‘’I don’t see,’’ he started and a smirk played along my lips. Their it was, the one thing I hoped he would say. ‘’Well neither can I.’’ I said as the bitch I can be.

Everyone else tried to hold back their laughter. ‘’I’m sorry?’’ he asked a small panic in his voice, not realizing I was blind. ‘’What did he say about not pissn’ of the lady’’ Chibs said in the most Scottish way possible. The boy looked horrified. ‘’Well? What can’t you ‘’see’’?’’ I asked with quotation marks when I said see.

I looked in their directions, waiting for him to speak. ‘’I don’t see how I could piss of such lovely lady.’’ He stuttered a bit. Licking my lips I thought of what to say next, but I thought we had already scared him enough for now. ‘’Don’t worry, you don’t piss me off that easily.’’ I flashed him a soft smile.

But not everyone agreed with my statement because Tig snorted loudly. ‘’Watch it Trager, before I put real poison in your drink next time.’’ I shot him a death glare as I put down my sunglasses. He knew I didn’t mean any of it, and couldn’t help but laugh. ‘’You love me to much to have me dead, doll.’’ I shook my head and laughed, knowing it was true.

I turned back to Jax and Juan. ‘’Please take a seat.’’ I gestured to a hopefully empty stool. Jax excused him self and walked back into the chapel as his phone ringed. Juan took a seat and I pored him a glass of orange juice. ‘’Here you go.’’ I placed it on the bar and another fit of snickers and laughter erupted from the others. ‘’Orange juice?’’ He questioned.

Leaning with my elbows on the bar I turned to him. ‘’Got a problem with that?’’ I tried to look at him straight but failed, I ended up looking past him. ‘’No, not at all.’’ he said careful not knowing how els to respond. ‘’Good, so tell me, what is your name?’’ A playful smile lingered around my lips, the boy in front of me sounded to innocent and brought a different type of myself to the surface.

For a strange reason I felt comfortable around him, even tough we’ve just met. ‘’Juan Ortiz.’’ He held out his hand and waited for me to shake it. ‘’Yeah, we ain’t gonna call you that for ever.’’ Standing back up straight and ignoring his outstretched hand. Here most of us had a nick name or something els then our real name to go by. Most men just called me pet names in staid of my name.

Juan looked at me, more like staring at me. ‘’What is your problem?’’ He blurred out, realizing what he had said once it was to late. ‘’Excuse me?’’ I said turning my head once more in his direction. This time I meant being bitchy. The boys went silent and I could hear someone walking towards my side of the bar. ‘’Well you see,’’ I had to interrupt him then and there. ‘’That is my fucking problem, I CAN’T.’’ I said angry and ripped off my sunglasses tossing them god knows where.

I looked at him, my face exposed to him. It was the one thing I was insecure about, my eyes. The were pearl withe and glossy, but the skin around my eyes was red and burned. A gasp left his lips and he was lost of words. ‘’That’s what I thought.’’ I said and walked away, nearly tripping over someones feet. ‘’Sweetheart.’’ Tig tried to hold me back, he was standing behind me and it were his feet I tripped over. ‘’Don’t.’’ I said with a trembling voice.

I brushed past him and walked outside, forgetting my cain behind the bar. ‘’I.. I uhm didn’t know.’’ Juan started but didn’t know how to continue. ‘’It was kinda obvious, you could have seen her scaring, even whit sunglasses and there is braille everywhere.’’ Opie stated the obvious. Juan began to feel more guilty by the second. ‘’I should talk to her.’’ he started and looked for my sunglasses to give them back to me. ‘’I don’t think that’s the best idea.’’ Jax said, standing in the door frame leading to the chapel.

He walked over to Juan and took the glasses from him. ‘’Don’t take it personal. Losing her sight took a toll on her.’’ For the first time ever to a prospect, Jax spoke in a soft and empathic way. ‘’She wasn’t always blind?’’ He looked up at Jax, registering what he had said. ‘’No, and that is not my story to tell.’’ With a sigh Jax walked outside looking for me. Already knowing where I would be.

We both shared a lot of things, from music taste to disliking the same people and even our hiding place when things get to complicated. It was on the roof of the office, at first it was scary to climb the latter but now it didn’t bother me any more.

Hearing the familiar screeching of the latter I knew someone was coming up. A while back Jax had brought up two chairs to sit on so he took a seat next to me. ‘’What is wrong?’’ he asked worried. ‘’Everything.’’ I said in between sobs. Without saying another word he pulled me closer in to a tight hug. ‘’I didn’t mean to lash out to him like that.’’ I said after a while still crying my eyes out.

Somedays everything got to much to handle and I needed a good cry. ‘’He knows.’’ we sat like this till I completely calmed down. ‘’So, wanna tell me what happened at the store today?’’ I shook my head. ‘’Not really, it’s not worth it.’’ it really wasn’t I could take care of myself. ‘’Alright.’’ he said quietly.

Jax gave back my sunglasses and cain, we were about to head back inside when he was once again intercepted by the ringing of his phone. He looked at the caller ID and put the phone away. ‘’He can wait, family is more important.’’ He threw his arm around my shoulder. We entered the clubhouse and I took a seat on the cough.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly. Jax had yet another club thing to discus and my mother was also making over hours, so I asked Tig to drive me home. That night another nightmare corrupted my sleep.

Fire, everything was on fire. The walls, the floors. The heat alone was burning my skin. The smoke filling my lungs. Tears filled eyes, trying to find my way to the screaming women.

Finding her wasn’t the difficult part, it was getting out unnoticed what would be tricky. My mouth covered with my sleeve, searching for a way out. Climbing out the window I came in from.

With a gasp I jolted up straight. Panting heavily, crying softly. Cold sweat covered my body once again. Never had I nightmares of the accident that caused me to lose my vision, it was always what I had done to deserve it.

The nightmares got worse and worse each night. It would be seven years ago, in a couple days and the days leading to that anniversary, always took a toll on my mental health. At night I didn’t sleep and the day I tried to distract myself by bonding with Juan, who I kept calling Juicy or Juice. All because I still give him a glass of juice when we gather around the bar for drinks.

Not only did I feel worse each day but I looked worse too. Walking into the clubhouse I was greeted by Juice. ‘’He… oef you look like the dead.’’ he joked and kissed my cheek. ‘’Careful, before you are son.’’ Chibs said with a laugh in voice. I let out a tired laugh. ‘’Don’t worry, you are to adorable to kill.’’ I patted his chest before making my way to the cough and sitting down.

It was a slow day until Jax called everyone on a run. ‘’Alright, we are needed by our brothers in the town next door, so saddle up.’’ Jax looked around the room and saw sitting on the coughs with my knees to my chest and my chin resting on them. ‘’Juice,’’ he started waiting for the prospect to look up. ‘’I need you to stay here. I need some one here to look after my sister.’’ He too looked at me. ‘’Of course.’’ he said, at the time not knowing why it was so important for Jax.

I was so in my own thoughts that I didn’t catch a word of what had been said. I felt the couch sink in next to me. ‘’Hey, darlin’.’’ Jax said softly, placing a hand on my arm. ‘’Uh?’’ I asked turning my head to wards him. ‘’Did you heard what I just said?’’ he asked and I shook my head. ‘’The boys and I are leaving. Juice is staying here with you.’’ He explained.

I was to tired to argue so I nodded. ‘’Be careful.’’ I said as I hugged my brother. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me as close as he could to his chest. ‘’When am I not?’’ He jokingly asked, causing me to laugh. ‘’Don’t get me started.’’ I had a list of the times he was everything but careful.

Every one got an hour to go home and pack, before meeting back at the club. Now everyone was ready to leave. Juice and me stood outside. I never let them leave without a hug. Once I couldn’t hear the roaring of their motors, we headed back inside.

Together we sat at the cough. ‘’What do you want to do?’’ Juice asked me, a little nervous. I could feel him bouncing his leg. ‘’Can we just listen to music. I don’t feel like doing anything.’’ I said between yawing. ‘’Sure.’’ he said and put on a playlist.

It didn’t last long before I fell asleep. My head fell on his shoulder and I tried to make myself comfortable. Juice looked down at me and smiled. He too noticed how tired I was lately, he tried to make me talk about it but I didn’t want to.

Juice tried to lay down on the cough without waking me. He took of my sunglasses and lay them on the table. Together we lay on the coughs, wrapped in each others arms. First it was a peaceful slumber but soon was corrupted by nightmares. I started to twitch slightly and murmur in my sleep.

Not knowing what was going on, Juice looked down on me again. ‘’Are you oke?’’ he asked quietly, but not getting a respond. The nightmare got only worse by the second and soon enough I screamed out in terror before waking up.

For a second I didn’t know where I was. Juice got up too and grabbed my hand. ‘’It was just a dream.’’ he said in a soft tone, trying to calm me down. ‘’What ever happened can not hurt you here.’’ He pulled me into a hug and held me till I stopped crying. ‘’Please talk to me about it. I hate to see you like this.’’ He wiped away the tears from my face.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. ‘’Alright, I will tell you what has been haunting me for seven years.’’ It took me a significant amount of courage to say those words. Of course everyone who was there that day knew what happened but I never talked about it with no one except for my brother. As we sat back down on the cough I started my story, reliving it as I spoke.

Seven years ago, I walked trough rival territory, fully aware that I shouldn’t have been there. As I was walking down the street, the smell of smoke filled my nostrils. Looking around the area I noticed smoke rising in the air. I followed its trail back to the source and saw that it came from the Calaveras club house.

With my head low, I walked trough the crowd that had gathered in the street. Once I was clear from the crowd I picked up my paste, knowing I needed to get the hell away from there.

Walking past the burning clubhouse I heard a women screaming for help. It pained me to hear her scream, begging for someone to save her. Till this day I still don’t know why none of the firefighters went back inside to save her. With myself in battle of what to do, I either lost or won, but I went inside trough a back window.

Following the woman’s scream, covering my mouth with my sleeve to prevent smoke inhalation. The screams came from behind a closed door, it was either locked or blocked. Kicking in the door, was the only possible way to enter. Black smoke filled the room and I could barely see the woman in front of me.

I ran towards her and helped her up. With one arm around her waist and the other holding on her arm that laid over my shoulder, we made our way to the door. The closer we got to the exit, the more screams from the outside I could hear.

Mainly I heard the screams of Hector Salazar. ‘’My wife is still in there!’’ So they knew that she was missing. I brought her as close to the exit as I could, she had to walk out the last few meters. No one could know I was there.

Carefully pushing the women to the exit I said. ‘’You got this, just keep moving.’’ She nodded and held herself steady against the wall. ‘’You got this.’’ I said again before turning around to make my way out trough the same window I came in from.

I thought that she had already turned around before I did, but she didn’t and saw my vest. She saw the Sons logo on my back and she tried to tell her husband that I saved her. But once he heard that the sons were involved he made the conclusion I was also the one who started the fire. And he wanted revenge.

My voice was horse from crying and talking. Juice held my hands the entire time I talked, to let me now he was still there. He would squeeze my hand every now and then to let me know he was still paying attention. ‘’But that still doesn’t explain you losing your sight.’’ He noted, after I was silent for a couple minutes.

It made me laugh weakly. ‘’You are so impatient sometimes.’’ I said with a small giggle in my voice. ‘’First he showed up at the clubhouse, threatening me. He had me followed by his men to harm me. But when I didn’t left the clubhouse anymore in fear of my safety, he had to get creative.’’ My heart was beating way to fast and breathing was uneven.

We sat around the bar having a laugh and a drink when Tig brought in a package. For me. He placed in front of me on the bar. ‘’For you, doll.’’ he said, kissing the top of my head, that being the first time to see me that day.

Not remembering I had order something, I examined the box. For as far I could see there was nothing suspicious about it so I opened it. As I opened it and looked inside something exploded and a wet substance burned its way onto my face.

Turning my head to my hands I continued. ‘’It was an acid bomb, not big enough to take me out. But to leave a message. That is how I lost my sight.’’ New tears filled my eyes and I didn’t fought to hold them back.

I let them stain my face, I let everything that I had bottled up the past seven years out. ‘’I never should have been walking in that neighbourhood in the first place. Cause this is what you get for saving the enemies wife.’’ I faced Juice, pointing at my face. ‘’I hate waking up, every day, not being able to see the faces of every one I care about. I hate my self,’’ Juice interrupted me by placing his hand on my cheek.

He tilled my head slightly up so I faced him head on. ‘’You saved a life, she is alive because of your bravery. Never hate yourself, cause to me, you are perfect.’’ I was lost of words and couldn’t help but smile. I hugged him once more and never wanting to let go.

44 notes · View notes

tales-of-spring · 4 years

Text

morning siren | Chapter 1: The Bakery

Pairing / Ship: Steve Rogers x neutral reader

Featuring: Steve Rogers

Words: 1710

Category: Writing Challenge, Fic, Vanilla, Soft Fluff

Warning: Startled reader, baker!reader, being alone in a shop, reader POV, fluffy tension, blushing messes

Summary: You open up shop on a early Saturday morning, but you’re not prepared for who walks in..

Author’s Note: This is my first entry for @finleyjayne‘s Rainbow Writing Challenge! I chose the prompt ‘’Apples and Oranges’’ paired with Steve Rogers, enjoy! Part two will follow soon, I promise! Divider credit; @finleyjayne

You woke up by the sound of your alarm going off. You hastily roll over, grab your phone and disable it, then proceed to roll back so you were facing the window. It was five am on a Saturday morning but the sun was already softly dancing through your blinds. You smiled because you felt today was gonna be a great day. You had to be at the bakery in about an hour so you got up, put on your bathrobe and proceeded to go to your kitchen to make yourself some breakfast.

You ended up at your breakfast table with a bowl of cereal and a hot cup of tea. You were slowly eating the morning cornflakes while turning the pages of the newspaper that was laid out on the table. Nothing unusual or strange has happened according to it, so you continued with your routine as calmly as ever. You showered, got dressed and packed your bag for your shift. You, as usual, went out the door at 6 am, just in time for the bus to take you to the bakery.

The bakery was called ‘’The Mad Batter’’ and it was a cute and warm place tucked away on a busy street corner. Flowers grew outside, people could sit outside and still smell the scent of the kitchen, the inside was cozy but not in a suffocating kind of way. You have worked there for yours and through hard work and loyalty, you rose through the ranks all the way up till executive manager, while still maintaining the baking work on your own wishes. Baking was your life and you couldn’t imagine a world without it.

You waved goodbye to the bus driver, stepped off of the bus and proceeded to cross the street. Traffic was almost non existent at this hour, which wasn't unusual. You unlocked the backdoor and stepped into the building, the scent of yesterday’s baking still lingered in the air; French orange tart with whipped cream, cinnamon buns and cherry pie. It was heavenly to you. Everything in this place was.. old and familiar to you. Comforting, you liked it that way. You smiled as you got ready to bake. The store wouldn’t be ‘’officially’’ open until eleven, which means you had a few hours to yourself which you always spend singing and baking.

You followed your usual routine of turning on the shop lights, even though no one was there, you didn’t like working in a bright kitchen and looking out to a dark and grin shop plus, it didn’t look approachable from the street. You then proceeded to switch out yesterday’s meal plan for today’s which consisted of apple pie, raspberry and white chocolate cookies, blueberry muffins and coconut treats.

You decided to put on some music, a vintage playlist one of your friends recommended to you. You recognized some songs, others you didn’t. But no matter, you sang along and swayed your hips to the beat of the music anyway. You decided to start baking the apple pie, and would later continue with the muffins. The recipe was already ready for you on your station so all you had to do was gather the ingredients.

A few minutes in and you were working in the dough, kneading it on the flowered counter with your hands. God, you could already imagine how the kitchen will smell once the pie would be baking in the oven. Once the dough was done you started on the pie filling; mixing the diced up apples, cinnamon, sugar, raisins and salt in a bowl until it became a nice filling that would stick together. The hardest part about the pie, for you, was to make the top layer. You had to measure up and cute six long strokes of dough and carefully place and fold them over and under one another to create the classic apple pie look. You did this with great patience, using your experienced fingers to complete the job. The pie was done and ready to be put into the oven. You snapped out of your focused mindset and finished the last step.

🎶’’Put your head on my shoulder..’’🎶 Hey, you knew this song. You heard it when you had put on the same playlist while you were cleaning your apartment and since then you loved it. So naturally, you started to sing a long. Swaying your hips while cleaning up your station. 🎶’’Whisper in my ear, baby..’’🎶 You were so caught up daydreaming and used to the quiet, lonesome, usual morning routine that you didn’t notice the front door of the shop opening, making the little bell ring, followed by a set of footsteps. Still, you kept on singing. 🎶’’Words I want to hear..’’🎶 The tall man was wearing a blue blouse tucked in his beige pants with a brown-ish leather jacket and classy shoes. His motorcycle was parked out front. For a second, he looked around confused. The shop was open, the light was on, but no one was there? He searched for an employee but stopped once he was right in front of the kitchen door, which was open, the counter blocking him from going in but he could still hear what was happening. That voice.. that beautiful voice.. 🎶’’Tell me, tell me that you love me too..’’🎶 You had finished cleaning and decided to go out to the front to see if there needed to be any work done. You threw the cleaning cloth in the sink and made your way to the front of the store, your voice still hanging onto the words you were singing. The second you walked in, you gasped and stopped in your tracks. Oh my god, there was a customer here and you were just out and about, singing and doing your thing? How embarrassing, you felt your cheeks flush red and you began to apologize to the customer, the man. ‘’I-I’m very sorry sir, usually no one comes in until 11 and I was so caught up in my routine that I-..’’

You broke off your apology the moment your eyes had a good look at who you were really talking to. This man was cute, as you would put it. Tall, with dirty blonde hair and gorgeous eyes. You could tell his frame was broad and muscular. The redness on your cheeks intensified. The man was smiling, one of those sexy half cooked smiles, damnit. He shook his head and told you it was okay ‘’It happens to the best of us, it’s really no problem.’’ You smiled and felt yourself staring at him, almost daydreaming. The both of you were actually, until you snapped out of it.

‘’Uh- uhm, can I- can I get you anything?’’

The man snapped out of the trance as well and fidgeted his wallet out of the pocket of his pants. ‘’Uhm, yeah, what’s your uh, your specialty?’’ You two were an awkward, blushing mess. You had to think for a second, usually you were quite sharp when talking to customers. ‘’Oh we uhm-’’ You walked over to the edge of the counter to point out what you were referring to. ‘’We still have yesterday’s which is a French orange tart with whipped cream, and the uhm, today’s apple pie is in the oven was we speak.’’ You chuckled nervously and put your hands in your back pocket. The man had a strange effect on you, but you liked it.

He doubted for a few seconds, licking his lips, his eyes darting back and forth across the counter. God, was he really this sexy naturally or is he just trying to tease you? You swallowed, trying to ignore your attraction to him. You got curious for his name and tried to carefully examine his face, questioning if you have ever seen it somewhere; tv, movies, the news. Nothing came to mind though.

‘’I can also- uhm, put down your name and reserve a piece of apple pie for you if you’d like.’’ His eyebrows jumped up in surprise and seemed to think about it for a moment. ‘’Uh- yes. Yeah, that would be great, thanks.’’ He chuckled to himself. ‘’In the mean time I think I’ll just get two of those..’’ He knelt down a little to see the cookies that were laying inside the glass counter. ‘’Chocolate chip cookies, please.’’ You nodded confirmingly and wrapped the cookies up for him, putting it on the counter. You felt your heart beating in your chest but you remained calm, you couldn’t wait to know his name.

‘’That’ll be 2,50 please.’’ You opened the old fashioned register and immediately proceeded to grab a notepad and a pen, multitasking was a thing you had learned to do over the years. The man handed you a five dollar bill and said you could keep the change, to which you shyly looked at the ground and thanked him. He gaze lingered over you for just a moment when he thanked you for your service and turned around.

‘’Wait, sir!’’ The dingus had forgotten to give you his name. ‘’I need your name for the- the apple pie.’’ He cut himself off from leaving the shop and walked back, almost an equal blushing mess as you were. ‘’Of course, my apologies, it’s uh..’’ There he did it again, licking his lips and looking up to you from the ground. ‘’My name’s Steve. Steve Rogers.’’ You wrote the name down with a note to hold back a piece of apple pie for him. ‘’I’ll come back later today for the piece, okay?’’ You nodded and put down the notepad, leaning on the counter. You didn’t give him your name, should you? He was already walking towards the door. He would come back anyway, maybe you could give it then. But what if he forgets? Oh what the hell-

‘’Steve.’’ He stopped again, turning halfway so he faced you. ‘’I’m Y/N.’’ Steve smiled at you and nodded. ‘’Gotcha, so you’re not just a pretty face?’’ You chuckled nervously and fidgeted with your apron, looking down at the ground. But when you looked up to answer back, Steve had already left the shop. You bit your lip and couldn't wait for when he returned.

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x neutral reader #Steve Rogers x neutral!reader #Steve Rogers fluff #marvel universe #marvel fluff #steve rogers #avengers fluff #avengers #Steve Rogers fic #RainbowWritingChallenge

76 notes · View notes

newheart97 · 4 years

Text

Stress relief (Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

A/N: Hi! It’s my first time posting here so I hope this works out. Do leave a comment if you have any advice or anything you’d like to share. If you leave aside that tha reader has a bra, then the gender is not specified.

Words: 3100-ish

It had been a really stressful week. Your colleague at your part-time job was sick so your boss had asked -more like, ordered- you to cover for her, which meant more shifts, which meant less time to study for the oncoming university exams, which meant that your anxiety and stress levels were rapidly increasing.

You just had a night shift, a stressful, long, boring night shift, waiting on rude and drunk customers and having to bear their behaviour with a smile on your face.

By the time you arrived at Aziraphale’s place, it was already 4 in the morning and your alarm was set to wake you up at 8, as you had to be at your university at 9.30 for the only oral exam you had this year. You quietly opened the door of the bookshop and tiptoed to the sofa in the backroom, not wanting to wake up the angel and the demon, if he had decided to spend there the night, and as soon as your head hit the headrest you fell asleep.

After barely four hours of restless sleep and almost none spent going through your notes, you entered the room where the exam was to take place and started exchanging a few words with your fellow students, some sharing information and some sharing your worries.

At 9.30 sharp, the professor entered the room with a colleague in tow to help him interview the large number of students. The problem was that, even though the number of students was high, the professor had the brilliant idea of NOT separating the exam in two different days and dividing the students between each day, so every student present was left wondering if they would even be able to get everything done that day or they had to come back the next one.

While waiting for your turn, you felt the phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out and checked it to see a new text from Crowley.

C: Where are you?

(Y): At my university, I have an exam, remember?

C: Oh, yeah, that… When will you be done, again?

(Y): Wouldn’t it be great if I could answer you?

C: What?

(Y): I don’t know when I’ll be done, could be an hour, could be two, could be tomorrow for all I know.

C: What do you mean you don’t know?

(Y): It means ‘I do not know’.

You put your phone momentarily down to check how many students were left -way too many- and just listened to what kind of question were being asked, anxiety raising each time an answer that you should have known decided to flee from your head.

Your phone kept vibrating for a while as you kept trying to ignore it in favour of going through your notes for the millionth time, but in the end, you felt guilty and grabbed it again.

C: Well, tell me when you’re done.

C: Angel is upset he couldn’t see you off this morning.

C: Keeps saying how he wanted to wish you luck.

C: He’s been pacing for half an hour now ‘cause you’re not back yet.

Reading all his text made you relax a bit, stress and anxiety forgotten as you thought about your lovers, how you first met them at the bookshop, Crowley coming up behind you saying that you smelt strange -which initially greatly offended you-, how you found out that you were half demon and how they had helped you come to terms with it, all the ups and downs you went through trying to deal with the feelings you had for both of them until you finally confronted them, giving birth to your current relationship.

Your thoughts were interrupted again by the buzz of your phone. Thinking it was another text from your demon, you hastily opened it without checking the sender, the small smile on your face quickly disappearing when you read the content: it was from your boss.

B: (Y/N), I need you to take tonight’s shift.

You were not having it, today was your day off, he couldn’t just tell you that you had to come work out of the blue, especially when you had informed him that you had an important exam.

(Y): I am sorry, but I don’t think I will be able to come today as I do not know at what time I will be able to leave.

It seemed a quite reasonable excuse, as you really didn’t know at what time you would be done and even then, you would probably be too exhausted to remember not to be rude to customers.

You received another text and you quickly checked it.

C: You do know that you don’t even need to be there, right?

You sighed as you typed the answer, a bit annoyed since you had already had that same conversation at breakfast before your previous exams.

(Y): Do you really need an answer?

C: Just saying, you’re half demon, you don’t need a degree.

(Y): And as I always tell you, I’m half human, I’ve lived as a human for all my life and I’ll get this damn degree if it’s the last thing I do.

(Y): You can’t just expect me to throw away all these years of hard work.

(Y): Zira has his shop; you got your car. What do I have? I’m just an average student struggling to figure what they want to do with their future who just so happens to be half demon and who hasn’t had time to accomplish anything special.

For a while, the phone stayed silent and you turned your focus back on the professor and his assistant. It was almost 12.30, which meant lunch break, but just the idea of eating made you nauseous. As the time went by, you started regretting your little outburst, but you didn’t have the strength to apologize right then. The professor stood up and made his way out of the room after declaring that the exam would start again in an hour.

As you got up too, your phone vibrated again and you unlocked it.

C: You have me and Zira, love.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Where Aziraphale was quite the sweet talker, showering you with words of love, Crowley was more of a showing-through-actions kind of guy -well, demon- so it was rare for him to call you love. That’s why you knew that he really meant it and that’s why every time he said it your breath hitched and your heartbeat picked up the pace.

You slumped back on your seat and typed the answer.

(Y): I know and I am forever grateful to whoever decided to make you appear in my life. It’s just that this is one of my last exams, after that there’s graduation and then I can finally close this chapter of my life, my human life, and fully enjoy the new, incredible, amazing chapter that is you guys.

(Y): Sorry for the outburst there, I’m just a bit stressed, what with the exam and the lack of sleep. Let’s not forget my job!

(Y): I just can’t wait to be able to fully focus on my life with you. I love you guys, so so much. I can’t wait to see you after this.

You put your phone in your backpack and headed to the courtyard to get some fresh air and try to convince yourself that there was nothing to worry about as you did study, you did understand the subject and you would pass with a good grade.

It was almost time to head back into the room when your phone vibrated. You took it out of your backpack and stilled for a second: it was your boss calling, so, even though you really would have preferred ignoring it, you answered.

“Hello, this is (Y/N) (L/N).”

“You need to come in tonight.” he ordered with a harsh tone without even greeting back.

“I’m really sorry but, as I’ve already told you, I don’t think I can make it, they haven’t said when we’ll be done yet.” you answered trying to keep your calm.

“Either you come, or you’re fired.”

If finding another job was easy then you would have had no restraint and just let your mouth run without filters, speaking your mind without worrying too much. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy so, with all the willpower you could muster, you tried to keep the conversation civilized.

“You can’t fire me for not coming in on my day off.”

“I can and I will if I don’t see you at 9 sharp.” he threatened and hung up.

“What?... ugh… I HATE him!” you half shouted, earning strange looks from the few students around you. You huffed and texted Crowley to let him know that you wouldn’t be able to join them for dinner and to not wait up for you. After that you turned off your phone and shoved it in the backpack, your mood completely ruined, hurrying to the classroom, not noticing the dark clouds that were gathering over your head.

It was 5 in the afternoon and you were still waiting for your turn. As you lazily glanced out the window, you finally noticed how dark the sky had become, darker than it should be at that time of the day. You started cursing the weather forecast guy for saying that it would be sunny and clear all day.

It was nearing the end of the day and the hope of being called was slowly disappearing, while the feeling of having wasted the day doing nothing but wait and worry began making its way to the forefront of your mind, along with the increasing anger at having to go to work when all you wanted to do was cuddle in bed with your angel and your demon boyfriends listening to the various situations they found themselves into, warm and safe in their embrace.

It was 6.30 and just as you were about to give up and leave, you heard your name being called. After the initial moment of shock and disbelief, wondering if you had heard correctly, you quickly made your way to the desk of the professor.

The questions seemed fairly easy, you answered all of them, but the never-changing expression of the man in front of you left you wandering if you had indeed answered correctly or not. After the last question, when you thought that the torture had finally ended and you would know whether you made it or not, the professor had another surprise for you.

“Very well. You will know your grade later this evening via e-mail.”

And with that, he started gathering his things and made his way out of the door, leaving a stunned you behind.

You stayed like that a few more seconds before recollecting yourself and checking the time.

It was 7 and soon the university would close, so you exited the building only to be met with so much rain pouring down that you wondered if God decided to drown humanity again.

You decided to head for your devilish boyfriend’s apartment, as it was closer, to take a quick shower and change your clothes. As you bravely took the first step out of the door, head tilted down to shelter your eyes, the rain that you expected to pour down on you never came.

You lifted your gaze to see a hand holding an umbrella over your head and finally the dark sunglasses hiding the yellow snake-eyes of the man the hand belonged to. The smile with which he greeted you made you want to crumble to the floor and just hug and keep him close.

“Figured you hadn’t an umbrella with you.” he told you with a small smirk.

Suddenly all words escaped your mind and you just hugged him, him embracing you with one arm and leaning down to place a kiss on your head. Relishing in his warmth, you whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stayed there a few more seconds as he just kept hugging you, not forcing you to say anything.

When you finally pulled away, he smiled at you once more and led you to his Bentley. Once there you turned to him.

“Crow, can you take me to your place? I should still have some clothes there.”

Instead of answering, he just grinned like a child who knows they did something they shouldn’t have done, going the opposite way.

“Crowley, what are you doing? I have to be at work at 9.” you insisted.

“Not really.” he nonchalantly answered while narrowly avoiding a pedestrian.

You knew then and then that he had done something and that most likely you just had become jobless.

Having accepted it as a reality you sighed and calmly asked

“What have you done?”

“Let’s just say the you won’t need to go there anymore.”

‘Well, what’s done it’s done, I guess’ you thought, but there was still one problem: you weren’t heading for the bookshop either.

“Where are you taking me, then?”

Not to your surprise, he didn’t answer your question and limited himself to raising the volume when Bohemian Rhapsody came along.

After half an hour of reckless and aimless driving, you finally parked in front of the bookshop. You were confused but before you could even take one step inside, the demon stopped you, mad you turn around and quickly blindfolded you.

“What are you doing, Crowley?!” you whisper-shouted even more confused.

“Trust me.” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your cheeks heating up a bit.

“Trust a demon? Now that’s quite the request, isn’t it?” you asked, trying to hide your embarrassment.

He just chuckled as a response and began leading you on the path to what your feet memorised as the room they had previously miracled for you. As you approached the room, you could hear the light shuffle of footsteps and feel the fire’s warmth enveloping you.

Crowley stopped you and took off your blindfold. In front of you, in the middle of the room stood your angel, a warm smile adorning your face. As soon as he opened his arms you jumped straight into his loving embrace, soon joined by the snake, sandwiching you between the two celestial beings, engulfing you in their love.

You all pulled back and Crowley made you sit on the blanket and cushions covered floor.

“Would you like a cup of hot chocolate, love?” Aziraphale asked while pointing at the two mugs standing on the small coffee table in front of you, next to a bottle of red wine.

“Yes, definitely, thank you Zira.” you thanked him, grabbing one of the mugs.

They then sat near you and for a while you just chatted a bit while sipping on chocolate, your boyfriends careful not to mention the happenings of the day.

When you finished the chocolate, your mood the best it’d been in a while, the atmosphere was momentarily interrupted by your phone ringing. You sighed and looked at your lovers, silently asking permission to go check. After they assured you that it was alright, you forced yourself to stand up and go. You did so silently and just as silently you put your phone back down after turning it off and turned around with an unreadable expression on your face.

Worried, your boyfriends approached you, sharing a look.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Hearing the angel’s concerned voice, you snapped back to reality and after looking at the both of them you beamed.

“I did it! I passed!” you exclaimed before throwing yourself at them.

They relaxed and congratulated you, the serpent saying that he knew you had nothing to worry about while Aziraphale patted your head. You went back to the cushions you were sitting on previously with your angelic boyfriend while Crowley headed out of the room, claiming that he was going to get some more wine to celebrate.

“Love, don’t take it the wrong way, but may I ask you to remove your shirt?”

Now, that was an unusual request from the principality, but after looking at him with eyes wide in surprise and him explaining that it wasn’t what you thought with reddened cheeks, you complied with his demand. He made you lay on your stomach just as you heard Crowley make his way into the room again.

He set what you assumed to be the bottles on the table and passed one to Aziraphale, only that, from what you could see, it was too little to be a bottle of wine. As you were wondering, you felt warm fingers on your back as they gently unclasped your bra. You turned your head ready to ask what was going on to the demon, but when you opened your mouth you gasped at a cold liquid being poured on your back.

Crowley chuckled and watched as realization came across your features and when the angel’s hands began working their magic, he witnessed how you melted, relaxing completely. He soon tugged your pants, wanting to join in on the pleasure-giving work of Aziraphale.

And there you were, only in your underwear and with two pair of hands on your body releasing all the knots the stress had created, your mind in a stated in-between consciousness and dreamland. They kept up the good work until they considered their mission a complete success. Slowly, you felt their hands leaving your body, a small whine escaping your lips, making the beings above you chuckle a bit.

“Don’t worry.” Aziraphale whispered while helping you get up from your relaxed position.

As you were trying to clasp back your bra, Crowley leaned in, kissing you just below your ear.

“I know another way to release your stress.” he said, kissing along your neck and finishing with a bite that promised more to come.

“Well, I can’t wait.” you answered as you tried to stand up only to stumble back down again, your legs feeling like jelly.

“…though, I fear that you’ll have to carry me, your massage left me boneless.”

Your lovers chuckled, the serpent smirking a bit, and Aziraphale proceeded to pick you up and carry you princess style. As you reached your shared bedroom, he gently laid you on the bed.

Useless to say that you didn’t have much sleep that night either but, as you woke up between your lovers, you felt all tiredness leave your body, filling it with love for the ones who turned your life in a beautiful unpredictable mess.

“I love you.” you whispered softly to the sleeping beings.

“We love you too.” they answered back wrapping their arms around you.

#good omens #aziraphale x reader x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #stress #gender not specified #student!reader #caring crowley #caring aziraphale

278 notes · View notes

bakguwuu · 4 years

Text

More Espresso, Less Depresso || k.e

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ — SUMMARY || Coffee is the only thing that can get you out of bed without blowing up your whole apartment. What happens when you forget to refill your coffee supplies? — PAIRING || Kirishima Eijirou X Fem!Reader — TYPE || Story — WARNING || Swearing — WORD COUNT || 1.3k+ — AUTHOR’S NOTE || avasaicnai this has been in my drafts for so loNg BUT i just keep getting writers block :sads: i hope it turned out alright tho ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“Why the fuck is there no more coffee packets?” You practically - and quite literally - slammed your mug down against the counter. With your hair disheveled and night clothes loosely hanging off your aching body, you cursed at the empty shelf. “Fuck this! Fuck that! I hate my life.” You seethed, flipped off your coffee maker as if it was the sole cause of your moodiness.

What a great way to start your day.

The walk to the coffee shop was tiring and annoying as hell. You hated how cheery people could be so early in the day. Sure, the sun was bright and made the streets glow but it only seemed to sneer at your storm of irritation. It also didn’t help that your head was pounding because of the lack of caffeine in your system. It only made you scowl even more and mentally cuss at everything. Once you walked into the quaint coffee shop, the aroma of fresh coffee filled your senses. It made your pain and anger a little more bearable.

“Good morning!” A red-headed male greeted you with a smile that could blind anyone who stared too much at it. It confused you - no, it made you jealous.

“I really doubt it.” You sighed while closing your eyes. You just needed a cup of that warm bitter drink. A chuckle made you look back at the barista.

“I can tell.” Although on a different occasion you would have snapped back with a retort, this time you didn’t really care. You knew how bad you must have looked at the moment. Slightly shaking your head, you told him your order. He happily wrote it down and began making your drink. He got right to work, pouring and mixing different liquids and you stared at the back of his head. He was still smiling even though he wasn’t facing you. Your shoulders slumped as another wave of pain surged through the sides of your head.

“Just a few more minutes and this shitty day can disappear.” You muttered, staring - more like glaring - at the ground.

“_____?” Perfect. You took the drink from the hands of the barista and thanked him. “I hope your day gets better.” He commented, flashing that oh so bright smile, before returning to attend the other customers. Inhaling the scent, you happily sighed. Taking a long swig; not caring of the heat burning the top of your mouth or your tongue, you relished the feeling. It crashed and flowed down your throat and plunged into your stomach. Exhaling, your lips curled into a smile for the first time in the day.

Taking a glance at the warm cup in your hands you noticed that there was writing on the side. Curious, you turned the cardboard sleeve and read it.

Instead of coffee, would you like some hot tea? Because you sure look like one ;)

It should have been a red flag of someone hitting on you, but the line was so bad that it made you laugh. There was something refreshing with the way he wrote it and it was amusing. Maybe having no more coffee packets was a good thing.

Until you read your name.

“Fucker spelled my name wrong.” You laughed again before taking another sip and walking out.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

It slowly became a routine for you to visit the little coffee shop. And every time you went, he was there with that all too shiny smile. The walk to the coffee shop became one of your favourite times of the day and receiving that cup became your number one favourite part of your day. He gave you the cutest and the worst pick-up lines but they never failed to lighten your mood. Lines ranging from:

Do you know what you would really look beautiful in? My arms.

I know you’re busy today but can you add me to your to-do list?

Flirty? Cute? Dumb? You name it. He gave you all of them. He still spelled your name wrong, no matter how many times you tried to correct him. So you decided to give him a taste of what that felt like.

“Hello, Ehhjhirou.” He blinked a couple of times before breaking out that dopey grin.

“If you can’t read, it’s Eijirou. Not Oreo, not Emario - I don’t even understand how you could even think that’s even close to how you say it. And it’s definitely not whatever you just said.” He deadpanned while pointing to his name tag, trying to make his point.

“And if you can’t spell, it’s ____.” You smirked, countering his smile.

“Hey! Excuse you but I can spell just perfectly.” He crossed his arms. Rolling your eyes you giggled.

“So what do you have for me today?” You leaned against the divider that separated the working space and the customer space. You eyed him as he got to work. For a guy that looks a little rough around the edges, his hands were graceful and efficient.

“Then there would be no surprise!” You were glad that there weren’t many people in the shop today. Unlike now, there were several days where other customers didn’t take it lightly to your interactions with Kirishima; antsy and grumpy at their lack of coffee. You’ve experienced many rude and angry complaints to “hurry your horny ass up” to quote. But today, you couldn’t be more than happy, especially since you were working from home. You still needed your daily dose of caffeine so that’s why you’re at the shop today. And maybe your daily dose of Kirishima, but who’s asking.

“I’ve also been meaning to ask; how long have you been working here?” You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight, “I mean I always see you here, even at the weirdest times.”

“Yeah, like coffee at four in the morning is a good idea.” His comment made you roll you eyes.

“I just happened to get my morning coffee extra early that day.”

“That was like morning morning coffee.” Kirishima was now on the last stages of his coffee making and stopped when he was about to write his infamous pick-up line on the sleeve. “I don’t know why I’m always here. Maybe it’s because I’m bored and have nothing to do or maybe ‘cuz I wanna see you.” Kirishima always used his pick-up lines as a way to flirt with you, but this was the first time he said something forward to your face. You blushed, of course, because how can you not when someone confesses their attraction towards you. When you didn’t respond, he took it as an opportunity to hand you your cup.

You thanked him and hesitated a bit before reading the words he wrote. But when you did, you swore you stopped breathing for a bit.

Something is wrong with my phone, it doesn’t have your number in it. Also, are you free tonight, or will it cost me?

It hadn’t occurred to you that you didn’t have the boy’s number. And was he finally asking you out? His pick-up lines would never consist anything of actually going out on a date but more of the silly ones where they held no real meaning. But this one. This one was actually asking you out. You looked at the male for anymore information. His eyes were hopeful and he bit his lower lip in anticipation. Poor boy, couldn’t even hold eye contact. Where did all the confidence in the pick-up lines go? You grinned as you took in the situation unfolding itself in front of you.

“Sure, Eijirou. Pick me up at eight?” Your words made his gaze dart from wherever he was looking at before straight to your face. He seemed like he was reading your facial features to make sure that what you said was actually true. You gave him a wave while walking out of the shop. Right before the door closed, though, you heard him shout in triumph and saw him fist bump the air. A giggle escaped your lips.

You just scored yourself a date.

#my hero #bnha #bnha x reader #x reader #reader insert #my hero x reader #my hero academia #my hero kirishima #bnha kirishima #my hero kirishima eijiro #bnha kirishima eijirou #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima imagine #kirishima headcanons #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima eijirou headcanons

111 notes · View notes

beatrice-otter · 4 years

Text

Period Fic Primer: Mawwiage is what Bwings Us Togethah Today

Welcome to my next installment of the Period Fic Primer, where I talk about stuff that period fic often gets wrong! Today we're going to talk about how people think about marriage. Because about 90% of the time, when I read a period fic with a romance in it, it's pretty obviously modern people with modern ideas about love who just happen to be wearing funny clothing. And, I mean, if that's what floats your boat, go for it! But if you want to write something with characters who feel they might actually come from the time period the story is set in, here are some things to think about. Stop me if you've read this fic/watched this movie: Our hero and heroine are In Love. But there is a problem! There is a class difference! Their families have other ideas of who they should marry! The hero and heroine don't understand how anyone can stand in the way of True Love! What kind of monsters could want someone to marry without being in love with their new spouse?

That reaction--that assumption that of course being in love is the only and most important reason for marriage--is extremely modern. People have fallen in and out of love throughout human history, it's something most humans do; and falling in love with the wrong people is also fairly common. But the idea that romantic love and marriage are naturally connected is a modern idea which was only starting to come into popularity in the Regency. Instead, up until the late Victorian era, most people (of all social classes) would have agreed more with Max instead:

In most times and places, marriage has had two primary functions: 1) consolidate/amass resources needed to sustain the family, and 2) pass those resources on to the next generation so that the family will continue to prosper. Why? Well, to answer that, we have to back up a bit. Did you know that, throughout history, most communities were only one bad year away from famine and people starving to death? This is not an abstract thing. It didn't happen most years, but it happened regularly enough that it was never far from peoples' minds. Also, farming up through the late middle ages took huge amounts of backbreaking labor. In a good year, you'd have a surplus, and could sell it to get some extra stuff. In an ordinary year, you'd have enough to survive on. In a bad year, people died. Organizing things so that you and your family and your community--the people you cared about--would have the best chance at survival in a bad year was really important. Now. Where do the resources come from? From the land. If you want to farm, you need land. If you want to mine, you need land. For pretty much anything, you need land. Making sure that you have access to the land you need--and that your children will have access to it--was a really big deal. For the few things that didn't need land, but rather used the products of the land and turned it into something else--all the trades, basically--there was also a lot of concern for how to balance things so that the people already in the trade can be sure that they and their families will have what they need to continue on in the trade. Access to resources was a huge deal. For most of human history, in most places, that's been one of the most important considerations for marriage. It's all about who has access to resources, and how they are going to pass those resources down to the next generation intact so that their children will have enough to live on. This looked different at different levels of society and in different cultures, but if you ask yourself "where are they getting resources from" and "how do those resources flow from one generation to the next" and "what effect is a prospective marriage going to have not just on the couple, but on their family and community" and questions like that, a lot of different marriage customs suddenly make a lot more sense. I'm going to be using European examples (mostly English), but these are the questions you need to ask if you're doing any worldbuilding or writing historical fiction. Because these things matter. On the small farm community level, in England, farming mostly happened as a communal thing. That is, specific families would lease specific fields, but everyone in the village would come together to help and some things would be used in common. (The growing trend in 17th-19th Centuries of rich people enclosing common lands and using them for their own good instead of the common good is one reason poverty in the 19th Century was so dire.) But you needed to control how many kids there were: it was a balance between having enough hands to do the work, and having few enough mouths that you could afford to feed them all. So the eldest son would inherit the lease, he'd have enough to get married, and the younger sons would work for him and the community but not have the ability to get married because they wouldn't be able to feed their kids. If they worked hard, they might be able to take over the lease of another local family that had a tragedy; if they left the village they might have an opportunity somewhere else to find another way to make a living (but that was extremely rare, because people would make sure opportunities went to their own kin first so you'd probably end up doing the same sort of hard work for nothing more than room and board in a different village). To marry, you need resources; you need to be able to feed your children. And, ideally, you want your spouse to be able to contribute to those resources. So the girls would spend years building up a store of household goods, hoping to marry one of the older sons who had a lease and therefore could afford a family; if you didn't snag one of them, you probably didn't marry, and ended up doing the sort of hard-labor-for-nothing-more-than-room-and-board that your younger brothers were doing. It sucked for the younger children, but it made sure that there usually weren't more children than the land could support. It's not about love; it's about who could afford to support a family. (In many places on the continent, they divided the land up equally between all the sons, and that was fairer but ended up with lots of cases where there were simply too many mouths to feed.) If you had a trade--you were a blacksmith, say, or a weaver, or a tanner, or a cooper, or a baker--well, there was a finite amount of work in any given area. You would pass on the trade to one of your sons, and the others you would try to find jobs as apprentices in the hope that they might one day be able to open up their own shop, but realistically most of them wouldn't. And realistically, most of them would never have enough money to get married and support a family unless they were able to open a shop of their own ... or marry the only daughter of someone with such a shop, or the widow of one. And even if you weren't marrying to get the shop, you wanted someone whose family was in the same trade, because even if women were rarely formally apprenticed in a craft, there was a lot less hard division between "men's work" and "women's work" and it was much easier to run a successful shop if both spouses knew how to go about it. So you might fall in love with someone from a farming family ... but (if you had the money and resources to marry) you'd still probably end up marrying someone from the trade you'd been brought up to. Because, again, it's not about love; it's about making sure you have the resources (skills and equipment and contacts, in this case) to build a comfortable life and support a family. And also, about making sure you have connections with the people who are most likely to have the things you need in your daily life. If you were of the gentry or nobility, well, they were rich enough they weren't going to starve in a bad year, but they had a correspondingly greater desire to keep and maintain that status for their children. So the oldest son inherits the main bulk of the lands; the younger sons get professions like the army and the navy and the church, which may or may not pay them enough to support a family; the daughters get lump sums of money called a dowry. And you want to keep all that lovely money in the family. You want to keep the land intact. You want to keep the power intact. You want to make sure that your children will have the best life possible ... which means they need resources, which means you need to marry appropriately. You might fall in love, but if the person you love isn't an appropriate match, then you're probably not going to marry them because marriage is about collecting resources and keeping them in the family over generations. In all these cases, according to the society and mores of the day, if you allow your child to marry outside their sphere simply because they've fallen in love--if they marry "beneath" them, or if they marry when they don't have the resources to support a family, or if they marry someone from a different trade/walk of life--you are a bad parent. So they're in love, who cares. Love will not feed your grandchildren. I mean, if you're a decent parent you'll care about making sure their spouse is a good person they can get along with, but as long as the spouse is not actively abusive, marrying someone they don't care for (but who has the resources for marriage) is far more likely to end happily than marrying someone they love who doesn't have the resources. I mean, if you're a farm girl and you marry a younger son of a farming family who doesn't have land of his own, all it takes is one bad year and you and all your kids starve. If you're in a trade and you marry someone from outside the trade, your shop is less likely to suceed. If you have money and land and marry someone who is lower class, you will be socially outcast and likely fall in social status and wealth and being ostracized from your community has negative repercussions for you and your children. Our bone-deep association with marriage is that it's about love. But prior to the 19th Century, romantic love was a bonus in marriage. If you found someone you were in love with who loved you who was the right social group and had the right resources, that was awesome! But the right social group and the right resources was far more important to have. Think about that. Think about what it means to have "being in love" be an optional add-on, a nice thing if you can get it, rather than the purpose of marriage. And it's not even something that has to be related to marriage at all. Consider the medieval idea of courtly love, where knights would fall deeply, powerfully in love with great ladies, be visibly devoted to them, write them all sorts of love poetry ... and never put any serious thought to marrying them or even sleeping with them because relationships/marrriage and romantic love were in two mostly-separate conceptual boxes. Loving someone from afar was the ideal, not the tragedy. You'd be surprised how much of the social mores of the pre-20th Century world were based on "we have to keep resources in the family and make sure our resources are passed on to the next generation." Obviously, things directly related to marriage and inheritance, like entailments and marriage settlements and wills were a part of it, but also things like "who talks to whom." You know all those rules about needing to be properly introduced to someone in order to talk to them? And the husband/father needing to call on someone and make their acquaintance before the wife and/or daughters can meet him? That's about making sure your daughters only marry the right people. They can't fall in love with a guy they never talk to, or at least, it's harder to do so. If you only ever talk to the "right" people and you fall in love, your love is going to be one of the "right" people and you can safely marry them. If you only talk to the "right" people, anyone that you don't know (and that none of your friends know) is obviously not the "right" sort of person, and so if you never come into contact with them, the chances of them being able to marry into your circle of family and friends is much reduced. This is one of the reasons why connections were so valuable, too: if you were at the lowest rung of the gentry but had a cousin who was in a far higher level, you would probably get invited to their parties sometimes, and your kids might be able to marry up into that sphere because they had an "in." It's all about keeping all that lovely money in the family not just in this generation but for the generations to come. You will notice that I have been assuming that every marriage will produce children. These people didn't have contraceptives, just abortificants, and those abortificants were dangerous. If you weren't infertile, and you got married, you were probably going to have children. And if you didn't have children, it was seen as a great tragedy that (especially for women) lowered your social status. But even in cases of infertility, whatever wealth you had would pass down to the family because chances were you would have a niece or nephew to adopt. If there were any relations living, someone in the family would get it. But the ideal was for the couple to have children, because then both of the families that put resources into the marriage get a share of the wealth through the children who inherit it. It's all about keeping resources in the family. This changed over the course of the 19th Century, but it changed slowly. Consider Austen's novels. In Sense and Sensibility, of the two couples in love we see, Elinor and Mr. F can't marry until Mr. F has resources under his control (an appointment as a vicar), and Marianne and Willoughby ends in tragedy, and the happy ending for Marianne is marrying the nice-but-boring-and-dependable guy with lots of land (and hence wealth). In Pride and Prejudice, Jane wants to marry for love, Elizabeth wants to marry someone she respects (and ends up with someone she loves AND respects, because she is a virtuous heroine), and Charlotte just wants to be married to someone with good prospects even if he's an idiot. (If you're protesting about Elizabeth wanting to marry for love, you're thinking about an adaptation or fic, because it isn't in the book; she explicitly starts considering him as a desirable marriage partner when she visits Pemberly and sees a) how responsibly it's managed and b) how well he treats his servants and sister, i.e. the people he could abuse with impunity if he wanted to.) In Mansfield Park, the reason Fanny has no money or status and can be abused by Mrs Norris and her cousins is because Fanny's mother married for love and thus Fanny and her siblings are penniless and depending on charity. In Persuasion, Anne and Wentworth fall in love but don't marry because, while he has prospects, he can't afford a wife yet (and might not actually gain the status and wealth needed to support a family), and even after all the angst of their meeting again and thinking he would marry someone else, and they reconcile and are married, Anne still thinks that refusing him when he didn't have enough money to support a family was the right thing to do. Now, over the 19th Century, three things happened. First, the standard of living rose, mostly in the middle class and upper working classes. Second, all sorts of new opportunities developed. There were new ways of getting the resources necessary to live on besides inheriting them. Third, the novel flourished and there were all sorts of stories about true love conquering all. All of these things fed into each other. You could marry for love without it being an utter disaster, and there was a cultural stuff about marrying for love being okay. But it was a gradual change, and the higher you were in society the longer it took for that change to take hold. The upper classes in England were still marrying for social rank and money well into the mid-20th Century. To sum up: if you are writing a period fic, or a fantasy set in a low-tech world, chances are that "marrying for love" is something most people think is silly at best, and dangerously foolish at worst. Even people who fall in love and end up marrying for love might agree that they're being stupid to do so! Also, consider: 1) Who has resources? 2) How are those resources passed from generation to generation? 3) What are the social customs and mores that encourage this to happen in the "right" way? 4) What are the legal rules in place to enforce those customs and rules? 5) How does the family of the couple either benefit or lose from their marriage? If you take these factors into account, your fic will be a lot more accurate.

comments

Comment? https://ift.tt/3lq5cfp

#writing #history #european history #economics

46 notes · View notes