#the customer is literally just putting it on the counter and i have to scan each individual item with a hand scanner

[sesshy380]

Wordcount of the day: 518

I can feel this prompt is nearing completion! One more to go after this, and I've already started on the rewrite (which makes it draft 3, since the other 2 were when I trying to force myself through my writer's block).

[campirebites]

besties good news for once

I made an appointment with my rheumatologist Dr SillyName (god I wish I could just doxx him (im kidding) bc his name is so silly I adore him what do you mean you have a s and a c next to eachother im dyslexic how do you say that) and I’m going to talk to him about my mobility decreasing and how much pain I’m in every day and bring up ring splints and wheelchairs with him because he’s the first doctor who ever believed me when I told them I was in pain and he’s the one who diagnosed me with my hEDS and if he tells me I don’t qualify for a wheelchair at least i know it’s coming from a doctor who cares, understands, and wouldn’t lie to me

[killxio]

bluecollar!reiner headcannons

word count: 725 [ 2 min 40 sec read] | ✪ content warnings: smut, kitchen sex, blue collar men :/ but a good one, p in v sex in general, fingering.. uhhh

bluecollar!reiner x black!reader / constructionworker!reiner x black!reader

✭ you and your blonde-headed personal bob the builder

bluecollar!reiner who does construction and pools.

bluecollar!reiner who sleeps like a LOG. like, has rolled over ontop of you on multiple instances and it’s taken having to literally slap him to wake him up.

bluecollar!reiner who absolutely throws down at cookouts and get togethers, you and your friends and family are just so good in the kitchen and babyboy needs to EAT.

bluecollar!reiner who works so hard because his favorite view of you is on a beach, or poolside at a fancy resort taking his cock in a risky, barely covered blind spot.

bluecollar!reiner who, 8/10 times cannot sleep without your manicured fingers scrubbing at his scalp or smooth palms scanning over his body and rubbing soothing circles.

bluecollar!reiner who sometimes brings you small bouquets if the landscape of the construction site he’s on has some pretty ones for the taking.

bluecollar!reiner who saved the petals from those flowers and proposed to you surrounded by them.

bluecollar!reiner who walks so hard for literally no reason. :/ like, he comes home late after pushing through the end of his customers pool build and i stg you think the rapture is occurring. it took you a few months of dating to get used to the fe-fi-fo-fum ass walking he does but even sometimes he still manages to wake you up.

reiner finally emerges in the bedroom after putting away his lunch box and heavy work boots to see his poor poor fiancé glaring at him from underneath a pillow.

“i woke ya’ didn’t i?”

“yes mister braun. you did.😐”

bluecollar!reiner who does that thing in the gym where he uses you as a weight for his pull ups sometimes. your lock screen is a photo of you smiling as reiner is doing a pull-up and you can see his abs on full display overhead.

bluecollar!reiner who looks forward to the massages you give him every night, working out the knots in his shoulder blades, soothing the aches in his biceps..

bluecollar!reiner who thanks you for the massages by doing you one better:

the plat plat plat of his dick sliding in and out of you resonates through the room, and your back is arching off the wall. reiner was supposed to be carrying you back to bed after a show and a massage on the couch, but here you are only halfway down the hall and coating his dick in cream.

“please please kiss me” you plead, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten and swell.

he huffs a little and between your deep kisses you can feel the stubble of his beard.

“reiiiii ‘m gonna cummmm” you whine, looking at him with that hazy glint in your eyes as you release on him.

“good girl, so so good for me doll.”

bluecollar!reiner who’s socials are empty besides a few photos of you or you and him and MAYBE a selfie.

bluecollar!reiner who you send video rants to throughout the day to keep him company while he works. he responds with videos of his own if he can.

you open the video reiner sent twenty minutes ago.

he’s propped his phone up on the back of his truck, his work shirt is absolutely covered in wet cement so as he’s responding to whatever you said in your previous video, he’s taking off his shirt and putting on a new one.

“.. oh yeah and lunch was amazing. not burnt or overcooked. thank you princess.”

his video ends after a quick wink and pop of his gum. meanwhile, you’re thinking about the way reiner was far from concerned about his lunch while you were trying to make it. he had you bent over the counter, knuckle deep in your cunt and tongue circling your clit. reiner wasn’t focused on anything besides the way your wetness was dripping down his arm, but you’re busy struggling to keep tell him about the food on the stove.

“r-rei baby.. i have- fuck.. i have your lunch for t-tomorrow- ah.. on the stoveee.”

“uh-huh.. god this pussy is so fucking delicious.” he says, only coming up for air for a brief second and continuing to ravage you.

bluecollar!reiner who has a photo of you on the dashboard of his work truck.

bluecollar!reiner who loves letting you ride him slow while he talks over the plans and spreadsheets for the next big project he has.

bluecollar!reiner who loves you to the moon and back and will build anything for you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking on the phone while shopping?

So this happened months ago but it still weighs on me when I’m reminded of it and I want to know if I was an asshole, if I’m being dramatic, etc.

For context I have PTSD and AVPD (avoidant personality disorder - think social anxiety, but much more intense, lifelong, and you can’t ‘cure’ it or really medicate it).

For a very long time I didn’t leave my house at all. The last year or so I’ve been really working on it and I can do small things like go to a nearby shop, but sometimes I still have bad days where I can’t do that without having someone with me.

I moved into a new place and it was ideally located, there was a small corner shop literally seconds from my front door on the same little street. It was the only store in that area so it was my only option and I was lucky it was so near. However because the area was unfamiliar it really set off my mental illnesses and for the first couple of months living there I couldn’t make myself go out of my home, needing my sisters (who are wonderful) or my partner to bring me basic groceries or go with me.

One day I wanted to take that step but I couldn’t make myself do it completely alone (trust me I tried, I was sitting for several hours with my jacket on trying to psych myself up to go). Eventually I asked my partner, who was too busy to come with me, if they could be on the phone with me while I went - this sometimes helps because it gives me something to focus on that’s not the people around me and lets me feel like I have a lifeline of sorts. They agreed and eventually I worked up the courage to walk to the store.

I got in and had the phone to my ear but was keeping my voice as quiet as I could, though I was the only person in the shop aside from the woman (maybe 50s-60s) behind the till, so I didn’t feel as bad as I usually would about disturbing other shoppers etc. I picked up basic stuff, got to the till, put the phone on mute and put it down on the counter so I could have my hands free to bag things up.

The woman was acting a little weird, just kind of short and giving me looks, but I was just kind of trying to get out as fast as possible so I didn’t think too much of it. I asked her if I could have a bag and she didn’t seem to hear me. Asked again and she said okay. After she’d scanned everything she scrunched up my receipt and went to throw it away and she noticed I was still hesitating, so she asked if I’d wanted to keep it and I said “No sorry I’m just waiting for the bag”

And she just. Blew up.

She started screaming about how maybe if I’d been paying attention to her instead of my phone I would have asked earlier, how I was rude, how it ruined her day to have customers like me. For the first few seconds I remember kind of weakly smiling because I thought she was being jokingly mad, because that’s how absolutely out of nowhere it was - just 1-100 in a second. I still remember the look in her eyes when she was shouting at me, like… I can’t even describe how much genuine anger and hatred was in her face, her eyes were twitching and she was genuinely shaking with anger. Raised voices and anger in general are one of my biggest PTSD triggers so this just… broke me. She was holding my groceries to her chest while I kept trying to reach for them so I couldn’t leave and I just had to stand there and let her shout. Another customer came in so I didn’t even feel like I could argue back so I just grabbed my stuff and basically ran home and then broke down.

I was completely back to square one and I felt like it instilled that I couldn’t leave my home and be independent because the first time I’d gotten the courage to go out mostly-alone this had happened.

I didn’t want to put in a complaint because I didn’t want to be That Person, but my mother ended up calling the manager on my behalf and after she followed up he said he’d spoken to her but no more detail than that.

For the rest of the time I lived there I didn’t go back to the store even with people except on hours I knew she wasn’t there, because my sister ended up asking around the area and someone told her they knew who she was talking about because she had a reputation of being “like that” and gave her her working hours so I could avoid her.

I eventually moved away again and didn’t need to use the shop anymore, but this was brought back again because a few weeks ago I was passing through with my sister and we dropped by so my sister could grab something, and the woman was there again stocking shelves. As soon as she saw me she completely stopped what she was doing to just stare at me, then started aggressively throwing the things onto the shelves before going back to the till. My sister would probably have said something if she’d been rude in front of her, but she was completely fine to her and served her politely.

I didn’t really realise how badly it was still affecting me until then because I was just standing frozen in front of the door waiting to be able to leave and my hands were shaking really badly.

So AITA for being on my phone in a shop and being rude? The reasons I think I could be TA are that she treated my sister perfectly fine, when I told family about it afterwards some of them said that in her defense being on my phone while shopping was pretty rude, and I got my mother to complain to her boss about her (even though I don’t think she got in trouble I think she was probably mad about this)

What are these acronyms?

[itsgreti]

THE NEW BOUNCER

pairing. elwood dalton x f!reader

summary. a new motorcycle gang is causing trouble, but the new bouncer solves the problem within a minute.

warning. cursing, mentions of physical injuries

word count. 1,2k

a/n: hey guys! it's literally my first ff ever, i just wanted to try out how hard is writing in another language, and i can tell you that i was struggling a bit haha. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

Working in the Road House was eventful. During the daytime, it was peaceful, but as night approached, the bar was no stranger to chaos. Lately, the trouble was caused by a motorcycle club, and its leader, Dell. He was the main source of broken tables and fights. Every night, he would swagger in, eyes glinting with wickedness. Tonight, however, things were going to be different.

(Y/N) had been working as a waitress at the Road House for a few years now. She had quickly become a favourite among the customers for her sense of humour and warm smile. But Dell's recent attention was anything but welcome. He would glance at her from across the bar, making nasty comments that sent shivers down her spine. She had tried to ignore him as much as possible, even helping Billy kick their ass out of the bar, but it had only led to swollen, bruised eyes of Billy and rude words to (Y/N).

Frankie’s only option to eliminate Dell and his gang was to find a new bouncer, and Elwood Dalton was the perfect candidate. He was known for his calm manner and challenging fighting skills. Initially hesitant, Dalton accepted the offer, as he had no other choice.

The other day, Dalton arrived to Glass Key, and as he walked through the door of the bar, (Y/N) couldn't help but stare at him from behind the counter. Tall, muscular, he was different from the usual arrivals, and he was an unfamiliar face compared to the regulars. He took in the scene with a keen eye, assessing the surroundings before making his way deeper into the bar. He met (Y/N)’s eyes.

"Hey there, what can I get you?" (Y/N) asked, her voice steady and friendly. It was rare for new faces to arrive with luggage in their hand.

"A black coffee, please." Dalton replied, his tone polite but firm.

"Um, we don’t have that. But you can try our Cuban coffee. It’s different, but it works the same." (Y/N) replied with a smile. Dalton agreed and waited her to prepare it. While he was waiting, he took in the ambiance. As she handed him the coffee, their eyes met, and she felt a strange sense of reassurance. There was something about him that made her feel safer already.

"You're new here," she said, more as a statement than a question.

Dalton nodded. "Just started today. Name's Dalton."

"(Y/N)," she replied with a smile. "Welcome to the Road House."

"Thanks, ma’am. Do you know where can I find Frankie?" he asked with a small smile at the corner of his lips.

She quickly pointed at a small room. "Yes, up there." Dalton acknowledged her, poured down the coffee, and made his way up to his new boss.

As the day went on and the light of the moon reflected into the bar, the place filled with people. The air buzzed with music and laughter. (Y/N) didn’t stop working for a moment as more and more customers ordered drinks. There were small fights, but Billy and Reef quickly wrapped them up. Dalton sat at the side of the counter and admired (Y/N)'s endurance and resilience as she also tried to put the too-drunk people in place.  

"The bar is always that packed?" Dalton asked (Y/N), who was mixing a cocktail with a customer.

"Yeah… " (Y/N) replied and handed over the drink to a girl. "But it’s normal, until-" Before she could finish her sentence, the mood shifted the moment Dell and his ass gang walked in. (Y/N)'s heart sank; she had been hoping for a quiet night and Billy had enough black eye for today.

"Wow, it’s like a morgue in here," Dell shouted and flipped the table in front of him for no reason. He scanned the room, his gaze immediately locking onto (Y/N). Dalton, watching from the aisle, tensed.

Dell made his way through the crowd, knocking over a couple of chairs in his path. He reached the billiard table to play some rounds as he had the past days, but he again terrified the other regulars. Billy came over to him and told him to get out, but Dell just laughed and pushed him back.

"Oh, Billy. You’re that stupid?" Dell laughed with his company next to him. "You didn’t learn, did you?" (Y/N) watched it behind the counter and decided to end it finally. She loved Billy as if he was her brother and couldn’t watch it anymore as the biker beat him up by and made everyone's life miserable. Dalton followed her every movement and decided to stand up if anything happens.

"Hey! Get the fuck out, now!" (Y/N) said with anger in her voice and stand in front of Billy.

"Ay, sweetheart. You’re here to protect your little guy?" Dell snorted and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. "How about you and I get out of here and maybe I won’t give him another black eye?" he slurred, his grip tightening.

(Y/N) tried to pull away, her voice steady despite her fear. "Let go of me."

Dell laughed, a cruel sound that sent a wave of anger through Dalton. Before (Y/N) could say anything more, Dalton was there, his presence a wall of protection between her and Dell.

"She asked you to let go." Dalton said, his voice calm but firm.

"Who the hell are you?" Dell sneered.

"Dalton," he replied calmly. "And you're done causing trouble here."

Dell scoffed, but he released (Y/N). "What are you gonna do about it, Dalton?"

Dalton didn't respond. Instead, he moved with a speed that caught Dell off guard. In a matter of seconds, Dell was on the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach where Dalton had landed a perfectly aimed punch.

The bar fell silent; every eye now was on Dalton. He looked around, making sure his message was clear. There was something about him that commanded respect. "This bar is under new management. Anyone who wants to cause trouble will have to answer to me."

Dell scrambled to his feet, fury in his eyes. He charged at Dalton, but Dalton sidestepped, using Dell's momentum against him. Dell crashed into a table, breaking it under his weight. The crowd burst into cheers, and a couple of regulars moved to help Dalton drag Dell's friends out of the bar.

Once Dell and the others were outside, Dalton turned back to (Y/N). She was shaken but unharmed, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little shaky. "He’s been a problem for a while, but it was the first time he…" she tried to continue but felt a hand on her shoulders.

Dalton gave her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. If he comes back, he'll regret it."

(Y/N) nodded, relief washing over her. As the bar slowly returned to its usual noise and chaos, she felt a newfound sense of safety. (Y/N) handed him another beer, on the house this time. With Dalton around, she knew she could handle whatever came her way.

And as for Dalton, he couldn't help but feel a deepening admiration for (Y/N). She was strong and brave, and he was determined to make sure she never had to face trouble alone again.

[multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer]

Perfect (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Author's Note: Hey guys! Here's that Steve request as promised. Everyone thank @spideyboipete for giving me the inspiration to finish this request! Hope y'all enjoy this, I know I enjoyed writing it! Expect more Steve content in the future, and requests are open! I am always in the mood to write for Peter Parker, and currently for Steve as well, so get requesting! Thank you, guys!

Requested?: Yes! By anon- "ask and ye shall receive! here's a steve harrington request: basically, reader being protective over steve when a nosy customer keeps on hitting on him despite the fact that steve has numerously (and patiently) let them down. feel free to go wild with this request -🍇"

Summary: After seeing a girl shamelessly flirt with an uncomfortable Steve, you try to step in and defend him.

Perfect

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 1,907

Warnings: none, just fluff this time!

“Hi, how can I help you today?” You smile brightly at the girl who has just walked into Family Video. 

“Oh, I was just looking for…” The girl trails off as her eyes skim over the long aisles of movies that cover the store.

“A movie?” Steve deadpans from behind you, walking up to the counter next to you. He leans over the counter, his forearms pressed into the glass to peer at the girl who has not stopped scanning the store.

“Any movie in particular?” You nudge Steve, trying to get him to play nice. He chuckles and looks over at you, a smirk on his face with a glint in his eye.

“No, nothing in particular besides maybe something,” she finally turns back to look at you and Steve, her eyes catching on the latter, “scary.”

“Oh, that section will be over there.” Steve points to the far right corner of the floor, not once recognizing the girl’s stare. Or, at least, not acknowledging it.

“Perfect… thanks. I’m Lisa, by the way.” She says, smiling coyly as she turns to go to the scary movie section.

Once Lisa is out of earshot, you turn to Steve.

“You might have your game back, Harrington.” You snort, even though you actually hate every second of this. Yes, you have a crush on your best friend. No, it’s not cliche, and no you’ll never tell him. He’s tried to hit on way too many girls that have come into this store, there is no way this will be any different and there is no way that he has any feelings for you. Not like that.

“You’re crazy. You think she was flirting with me?” He scoffs, turning around so that his back is against the counter, elbows leaning back on it.

“I don’t think so, I know so. Did you see the way she looked at you? Literally bedroom eyes personified.” You slap his arm, pushing away from the counter to go to the computer where the store’s inventory is listed. You scan through the scary movies to see which ones are in stock.

“Which one do you recommend?” You hear Lisa’s voice at the counter again, and you turn around to see her leaning up over the counter this time as Steve tries to talk to her. If Steve so much as glances down, he’ll see right down her shirt and you know she’s doing that on purpose.

“Well, um, I guess…” Steve puts a hand on his neck, nervously looking anywhere but at her. You decide to intervene. Maybe he’s just nervous and doesn’t want to come off as being a douchebag guy that uses women for their bodies, maybe he really likes this girl. Either way, though, she seems like nothing but trouble.

“I recommend Friday the 13th parts one through five,” you pipe up, walking over to meet them at the counter again, “part six is set to come out in August so you should watch the series to get caught up on it before the newest part premieres.” 

“That’s… really good advice, actually.” Steve smiles at you, a silent thank you for saving him in the situation.

“Yeah? Is there any…nudity in any of the films?” She bats her eyelashes, looking up at Steve through them.

“Well, I actually haven’t watched any of them, so I don’t know--” Steve starts, but he’s cut off by Lisa’s gasp.

“You haven’t watched any of them? They’re so good, you should totally see them. Say, do you have anything going on tonight?” Lisa grins at him, finally pushing off from practically laying on the counter.

“Oh, I’m actually…busy tonight, but thanks for the offer.” Steve looks at you, giving you a look. You catch his eye and read the expression he’s giving: I do not like this chick.

“Yeah, we’re both busy working all day and into the night. Long shifts, you know.” You joke with the girl, and Steve joins in to laugh awkwardly with you.

“What about this weekend?” Lisa hums, twirling a piece of blonde hair between her fingers as she stares Steve down.

“I’m…busy then, too.” Steve gulps, severely uncomfortable under her intense gaze. You swear you see a trickle of sweat fall down his forehead.

“Doing what?” Lisa lifts an eyebrow to stare at him, almost as if challenging him and his unknown plans.

“He’s going on a date.” You blurt out.

Steve turns to stare at you, and the girl even tears her gaze away from him to look at you as well.

“A date?” Lisa asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Y-Yeah! A date.” Steve agrees, turning back to look at her while giving you a thumbs up behind the counter where she can’t see.

“With who?” She frowns, her hand dropping from her hair to rest on her hip.

“With--” You try to respond, but Steve beats you to it.

“With her.” Steve points at you. Your eyes go wide and you try not to let your jaw drop at his casual lie.

“Really?” Lisa almost looks like she doesn’t buy it.

“Really.” As if to set the lie in stone, Steve sidles up next to you and grabs your hand in his. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks at his gesture and try not to let it show on your face.

Lisa’s eyes pause on you as she sizes you up and tries to decide if you’re an actual threat or not.

“He’s not interested in you, floozy. Get lost.” You glare at her, standing your ground for both you and Steve despite being so flustered at the same time. Her nostrils flare and her lips pucker into a grimace.

“Whatever.” She flips her hair and walks away for a moment to most likely grab a movie.

“What was that?” You whisper-yell at Steve.

“I don’t know! I just thought of it on the spot! It worked, didn’t it? Stop yelling at me!”

“I’m not yelling at you! I’m whispering!”

“You’re whisper yelling! That’s not fair!” 

“How is it not fair--”

“Excuse me?” Lisa’s back, an annoyed look on her face. If looks could kill, well, you wouldn’t be dead but you might be mildly beat up or something.

“Oh, sorry, we’ll ring that up for you.” Steve clears his throat and rings up her movies, taking her payment and sliding them across to her once he finishes.

“Between you and me, lover boy, if you want more of a…I don’t know, woman. Or at least some more fun, then you can call me anytime.” Lisa slides her landline number across the counter to Steve and smiles suggestively at him.

“No.” Steve frowns. Her smile drops into confusion.

“No?” She asks.

“No.” He repeats, leaving behind the counter to stand in front of her.

“Steve--”

“You are not half the woman she is, and you could never hope to be. (Y/n) is the most incredible, selfless, funny, caring individual ever and you need to apologize to her.” Steve’s face has gone slightly red as he rants to Lisa.

“Steve this isn’t neces--”

“It is, (Y/n). Lisa, you cannot disrespect my girlfriend like that and expect me to stand by and not react. You might think you’re more fun because you’re the type of fun that most guys want so they can use you before discarding you, but that’s not me. That will never be me, not anymore. (Y/n) is the type of fun where I can stay up all night hearing her jokes and watching movies with her and never once want to go home or wish that I was somewhere else. She is the type of fun that I can be around twenty-four-seven, and I am so lucky to be with her and to be around her all the time. She is the type of fun that I want to spend the rest of my life with, not some one-night stand that I’ll forget about tomorrow. So, yeah. Once you grow up and realize what a real woman is, then maybe you’ll find a man who wants you and who will appreciate your worth fully. But that man is not me, and that time is not now. Goodbye.”

Lisa has tears in her eyes before he’s even finished, and as soon as he’s done talking, she runs out of the door.

“Steve…” You trail off, not really knowing what to say next. Did he seriously mean all of those things? The way that he said them, he had to have….

And did he call you his girlfriend?

“Sorry, I got carried away. You don’t think I was too harsh, do you?” He smiles sheepishly at you, coming back behind the counter again.

“Well, I don’t know…maybe the whole use and discarding bit was sort of uncalled for, but it wasn’t exactly wrong. I feel only a little bad,” you say truthfully. 

“Yeah…” Steve agrees, but you can tell that his mind is elsewhere.

“Steve?” You gather up the courage to get a little closer to him, standing next to him at the counter again.

“Yeah?” He snaps out of his trance, looking down at you.

“Did you mean all of that?” You almost whisper, not daring to look at him as you do so.

“Of course I do. You mean everything to me, (Y/n).” He responds.

“Like…in a romantic way?” You breathe out, heart hammering at your own accusation.

“Oh…I…” Steve swallows hard and averts his gaze. 

You knew it. How could you have been so stupid, to think he felt the same after all this time? It was just to get the girl to go away. He only likes you as a friend.

“Yeah. In a really romantic way.” Steve’s laugh is breathy and barely there as he turns to look at you again. Your head snaps to stare at him with wide, awe-struck eyes.

“Seriously? You- you like me?”

“A bit more than that (Y/n).” Steve chuckles, but you can see a tinge of red on his cheeks as he admits this.

“Like like me?” 

“Love, (Y/n). I love you.”

“You…” You trail off, the reality sinking in.

“Do you…?” Steve asks, not daring to actually finish the question.

“Y-Yes! I mean- yes. I love you, too, Harrington.” You giggle, not really comprehending the full situation but being elated nonetheless.

“Great. Awesome. I… that’s… perfect.” Steve nods, a big smile on his face as he stares off into space.

“Um-”

“Movie? Uh, this weekend? A date?” He asks, looking over at you with his wide smile and bright eyes.

“You mean the date we technically already have planned?” You laugh, looking up at him.

“Right. Yeah. That’s the one.” He chuckles, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Sounds like a plan, Steve. I’d love to go on a date with you.” You lean in slightly, breath hitching in your throat as the two of you draw closer to each other.

“...Perfect.” He smiles, brushing your noses together before--

“Get back to work!” Your boss walks in and shrieks at the two of you, causing you to jump apart and skittishly start working on nothing in particular. You glance sideways at Steve, who is already looking at you. You both laugh and continue working, grins splitting your faces.

You’re just two lovestruck idiots trying to navigate a weird world with even weirder people in it, but honestly, what’s better than that?

[dio-the-thot-exterminator]

I feel so weird and like I'm doing something wrong?? My Boss manager always being so passive aggressive to me or maybe I'm just not used to ppl being so stupid.

She's like "you NEED to be selling the credit cards more. You know we base your scheduling on how many credit card u sell and if you don't have high numbers then when I start hiring new people..."

HIRING WHO?????? HIRING WHOO???? Id like to see all the people you’re hiring hmm? Where? You can barely keep ur own managers from constantly calling out of work. So ur forced to do 60 hr work weeks every month. I know u ain't talking to me And the other two associates always call out or don't show up so I have to come and cover for them…I KNOW YOU AIN'T TALKING TO ME!??!??!?!?

"Your job is to sell the stuff at the counter and credit cards" ok then why am I sweeping the floors and cleaning the bathrooms and wiping the mirrors and pricing merch and tagging and taking out the trash and dusting and packaging online orders etc?

She like "even tho ur just an associate u NEED to be reading the emails everyday" girl how is knowing what the stores over n Texas and Florida make gon help me 💀 She acts like she got hella people on stand by bitch u dont she tryna lecture telling me I need to do more... All you do is talk on the phone and ask ppl to join ur church.

She be in the corner somewhere on the phone and the customers are like "um...excuse me?" And she ignored them so I gotta help them. Even tho she tasked me with scanning all the fucking items in the store!!

And she literally told me "u need to pay attention more to the customers YOU'RE NOT HERE TO COMPLETE TASKS!!!" AHHHHHHUAHHHHHHHHHHHHH what do you mean???????? Wtf am i here for then??

I'm bout to snap on her fr maybe I'm too combative… she got me pushing around this chart.

She was like complaining "uh make sure you fix that bcuz y'all like to leave it a mess 😒" And I was bout to say "bitch who tf is y'all??????" I KNOW how you are and I know you complain about every lil thing, so whenever i'm pushing that chart around it be looking neat and tidy and I put it back like that too. 

I'm da best employee she has!!! My other managers Jays and Red were literally like “ugh we were so lucky to have found you” and the other day a customer had came back into the store to tell my manager Red what a good job i did helping her find what she needs and being accommodating…The other associates dont do shit.

The college girl who barely works saw a box all messed up, she tried to quickly close the top (didn't work) and then she just walked away. I was like "um aren't u gon fix that?" And she was like "oh yeah right" Like??? And all she does is stand behind da counter. The store be a mess and she be standing.

The phone guy just be on his phone and he be chilling in da back. I know u are not on my case. when u let a whole ass employee stay in the break room his entire shift 💀.

I feel like she get someone sort of power trip off it and she just needs someone to terrorize and she choose me because I'm always there 🥲 (this is the reward i get for being a real ass employee??) 

Boss manager was like "I'm going to start quizzing you guys on what was in the manual  bcuz y'all act like talk forgot, you NEED to be following them!!" Girl still on shit from da "training" videos. Shit she don't even follow…

Yesterday she was like, “go reprice the entire clearance section, make sure you don't leave the chart out!!! Every Time someone walks in the store, put the chart back and greet them!!! (she's standing next to the entrance doing nothing) Well this NEEDS to be done before your shift ends so get it together hurry up!!! And you can actually leave the chart out when u need to ring someone up on the register (she is one the phone and didn't notice someone standing there) OMG WHAT ARE YOU DOING THAT GUY NEEDS HELP!!! HELP HIM!!! GOOOO!!! AND TAKE THE CHART WITH YOU!!!!! OMG OMG STOP STOP LEAVE THE CHART HELP THAT GUY NOWW UGHHHHHHH!!!!!" and she is...standing there doing nothing...he walked up to her first bcuz she was closer…

Its so awkward asking someone to apply for the credit card, bcuz the boss manager expects you to harass every customer (she literally follows them around the store and asking them repeatedly to sign up i counted once…she asked one person 7 times) AND it's not even only the credit card, it's everything in the damn store. AND she only wanted 1 person on the register even when its rlly busy, trying to sell everything in the store…. (you guys only 2 people are allowed in the ENTIRE STORE one associate and one manager bcuz the company wants to be cheap)

It's like the customer places whatever they’re buying down and I have to say “hey this thing is buy one get on half if you're interested, and we have this item on sale, also if you wanted any of these items they’re behind you. Do you want any of this? I can show you the different ones we sell. And we have this too. I can help you pick out the one you need. We also have a credit card, if you want, you'll earn coupons and get a discount off today's purchase :D"

And she wants us, to say that, TO EVERY SINGLE CUSTOMER!! Everyone…

So it gets so awkward asking, especially if they are just buying like one little item. And to make things worse she's so nitpicky about everything like I was asking if they wanted to join our rewards and she was like "ugh if you ask it like that of course they're gonna say no!!!" And then she...didn't give me a way I should ask them…

I just nod and say "okay" whenever she starts ranting. She just get on my nerves a lot but that's also bcuz ima hater. Idk i feel like i do everything correctly and efficiently so idk why my managers are always attacking or complaining about me. 

Can I pleaseeeee have a job where I only need to complete tasks??? Where are those jobs?? Someone point me in the right direction

[fuck-customers]

Fuck inconsiderate customers.

I had a customer come to my register with 2 carts full of bulky bedding and pillows. She kept putting stuff on the belt and then snatching them away, telling me to "Hold on!!"

Apparently she still didn't know what she wanted to keep and also wanted two separate transactions. So I kept waiting and finally she said I was fine to start scanning. And she kept putting things down and sitting the DIVIDER between each item she sat down.

So basically I would scan maybe two things and she would put a divider down and kept doing that for just a few items. But she had at least 20+ things in her carts and told me she only had two separate transactions.

So I would stop where the divider was and she would scream "Keep going!!" I literally had to just take the damn divider and put it to the side because she decided everything would be together and didn't tell me.

But kept moving the divider between items, instead of just sitting it out the way. Confusing me. Then all her bulky items kept piling up, to the point I could not read my damn screen.

And she kept asking me how much everything was and it got to the point where I had to say "It's hard to SEE, I can't tell" Which made her get an attitude and move ONE pillow out of the way and sharply said "Can you see NOW?"

When there were about 7 other huge ass pillows in the way. But I pushed them to the side, since she obviously didn't care about them falling in the floor. And continued to read the prices for her.

Finally when we were done, she just stared at me with her pile of bulky shit still falling over on my counter. And said "Don't these need to be BAGGED?!"

I used my best customer service voice and said "No ma'am, we don't have bags large enough for them. But nobody should stop you at the door as you leave, just keep your receipt out"

She seemed like she still wanted to argue, but I started checking out the next person. I spent enough time struggling with her already.

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Konbini

Word Count: 2000+

Remember how I said I always wanted to write fanfic shit with dialogue and an atmosphere like Kevin Smith's films?

CW: Sexual references, but nothing apart from that

Yuki's nonchalant voice broke the silence at the register (if you didn't count the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling).

"Did I ever tell you that my grandma fucked Gran Torino?"

Sayori blinked.

"Not that I recall," she replied. "When was it?"

Yuki unlocked the register and began counting out the leftover cash. "Don't know the exact date, but knowing her it was the 'good old days' when the entire bar was a smoking section and she didn't have to suffer looking at heteromorphs just living their lives."

Sayori smirked and felt her tail instinctively twitch. "So that's why I've never met her."

"That and she's been dead for six years. You might have liked her, though. Aside from the virulent racism, she was a nice lady."

"I'm sure Gran Torino'd agree. How did they hook up?"

Yuki slid the stack of ¥500 bills into its proper slot in the register drawer. "Apparently she was at a bar that turned out to be his favorite spot. They both order the same thing by pure coincidence: an Old Fashioned. They joked that it was fate."

"Was that the only Old Fashioned they enjoyed together that evening?"

"God no. She drank him under the table figuratively, and then literally. Torino, being the gentleman, escorted her to his hotel room and the rest was history. The next morning she woke up before he did and slipped her business card into his wallet. But every time he called she'd ignore it."

Sayori scoffed. "Your grandma ghosted Gran Torino?"

Yuki shrugged. "Apparently he wasn't all she thought he'd be."

Sayori fished a tube of lip gloss out of her fuzzy pink purse and carefully painted her upper lip; even with an applicator designed for people with rodent or lagomorph features, it was still a bitch to accurately put on without smearing it. "Well, he's what, 3 feet tall? If we're talking proportionally then she had to have known what she was getting into."

"Oh no, she said the sex was great," Yuki countered, returning the rest of the cash to the register and then typing the exact amount onto her phone. "Apparently he just wasn't that good at conversation. And she also said he used to be taller. Like…six foot seven or something."

"Holy shit, seriously!? What happened?"

"Consequence of his Quirk? Smoking and caffeine consumption over multiple decades? Hell if I know."

"Oh, come on," Sayori protested. "He's got a Jet Quirk, right? How does that translate to severe loss of bone density or shrinking?"

The entrance doors slid open with a happy chime, but the girls continued chatting without acknowledging the small group of customers in grey school uniforms.

Yuki pulled a scrunchie off of the long chain of ponytail holders adorning her wrists to style her hair. "We all know Quirks have all sorts of weird effects and ways of showing, 'Yori. Case in point: why is it that with my Keratin Rush, the only part of my body with a 1000% boost of keratin production is only my hair and fingernails? Not my toenails, not my skin, nothing. All the hospital tests and scans show my brain boosts the hormone everywhere in my body, yet only my hair follicles and fingernail beds that get the message."

"You'd rather have to file your fingernails, toenails, and hair while exfoliating every hour? Boss-man already complains that you take too long trimming your hair on your lunch break.

"If a fifteen-minute chop and trim every 8 hours bothers him so much, he can find someone else willing to work this shit job for shit pay, full time. I'm just saying, it's a lucky coincidence that the parts of my body that grow absurdly long are the ones that are generally considered attractive for women in society. No flaky and super hard skin like my dad, and I don't cut through my shoes every month thanks to any toe claws. He only wears sandals now because he got sick of it."

Sayori wrinkled her nose. "Couldn't he just trim them more regularly like you do for your hair and nails? How long was he waiting between filings that he'd cut through his fucking shoes?"

Yuki smiled. "You sound so much like my mom right now," she said with a wistful air. She put a hand on Sayori's shoulder "Hey. Tell me to do my homework and to stop slouching at the table. You're making me all nostalgic here."

Sayori raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather scold you for constantly coming in late and expecting me to cover for your lazy ass when you're too hungover to do a morning shift."

"Just as long as you let me know I'll never meet your standards, it works. Thanks, Mom."

"Ugh, don't call me that, creep."

"Wow, now you really sound like her. Anyway, my point is that Quirks have all sorts of nuances to them that don't always make sense. And the less we obsess over the logic behind it--or lack thereof--the better."

Sayori took out a rosy metallic compact to scrutinize and fix the curls in front of her face. "Kind of a microcosm for life, I guess."

"Or the government."

"Oh God, not this speech again."

"Which one?"

"Any of them. The last time you went off about Pro Heroes being in bed with the government as…what was it? 'A homunculus of police, corporate sponsor, celebrity, and idol rolled into one pile of spandex-clad shit?'

"Actually most Heroes don't wear spandex," Yuki interjected. She uncapped a bottle of soda she'd stashed on one of the shelves by the register and took a sip. "Rips too easily."

"Guess you should revise your rant, then. I remember you saying spandex--I bet the customer who complained about you to the manager remembers, too."

Yuki scowled. "Oh, so suddenly Boss-man cares about customer input? Where was this dedication when people complained about the dirt on the floors, busted merchandise on display, expired milk in the containers for up to a week–"

"Not to mention the unhelpful staff," Sayori added.

"You can't help people of this caliber for minimum wage. Whoever said the customer was always right never worked in the service industry a day in their life." Yuki leaned against the wall behind her as she drank. "How many times do you get insulted and belittled just for shit you can't control? I've gotten called a highway robber because some Skittles cost ¥200, and then I'm a liar for saying we have Skittles when she wanted Tropical Skittles. She didn't even ask if we had Tropical Skittles."

"Would you rather deal with that or drunk guys trying to hit on you? Seriously, if I hear one more asshole ask if I have a 'real cottontail' and solicit me with carrot sticks, I'm gonna show them what kind shit a hare can do."

The green-haired boy stepped up to the counter. "Um, excuse me, I'm ready to pay," he said quietly.

"You're excused," Sayori replied. "If you're paying cash, you can go to her and if it's card, you can come to me."

The boy moved to pay with Yuki, and some of the other students started to come to the register as well. One girl with a long black ponytail approached Sayori and bowed politely.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to decide what snacks to get but I've never had anything from a convenience store," she explained sheepishly. "What would you recommend?"

Yuki rung the green-haired boy up and counted out his change, and Sayori chewed her lip to hide her smirking. "Wow, nobody's asked me for my opinion at work before," Yuki remarked.

"That's never stopped you," Sayori replied slyly.

"The salmon in our onigiri is pretty good. But the mayonnaise in the tuna ones are usually kinda sour, so I'd steer clear. Oh, and the chicken tenders we have are good. Since it's your first time, I'll give you the premium Happy-Mart experience and actually make sure they're heated up all the way through. Plus an extra container of sauce--just don't choose the mayonnaise, obviously."

The young girl actually took this seriously. "Oh, thank you! But I was actually wanting some snacks that I could enjoy at home with my friends, like Pocky or chips."

"My sincerest apologies on behalf of my ignorant coworker's suggestion," Sayori replied gravely. "If you want sweets, then the chocolate mushroom-shaped cookies are a classic choice. We've also got some flavor variety, like strawberry, banana, and matcha cream."

"That sounds perfect, thank you! I'll go fetch some in every flavor, just to try them all--oh, and whatever my friend here would like, I'll pay for them." The brown-haired girl next to her blushed--or were those pink marks on her cheeks already there?

"Momo, I can pay for myself," she insisted. "I'll just get a bottle of lemonade."

Momo frowned. "Ochaco, I already told you, it's my treat! I want to reward you for doing so well after studying with me. You got a near perfect score on that English test, so let's celebrate as friends! Get whatever you'd like."

Ochaco was silent for a moment, but then jumped to hug Momo with a huge grin and a bit of anticipatory drool. "You're a saint, Momo-chan!" She took off down the aisles with a wire basket in hand.

Momo took a few steps, but then stopped and turned back to face the cashiers. "By the way, do you accept Platinum Diamond card? If not, I think I have a few Discovery ones that should work…"

"Oh, our Diamond card reader's broken," Yuki replied without skipping a beat. "Damn repairmen are trying to unionize, you know how it is. Discovery's acceptable, ma'am." She handed the green-haired boy his bag with a wry smile. "Hey, kid. Make sure she doesn't make eye contact with anyone around here until you're back on the right side of the tracks, okay?"

The young boy nodded, and Sayori glanced at his shopping bag. "Guess you didn't do so well on that test, if you're paying on your own. Or are you a chivalrous type who wants to pay his own way?"

He looked down inside the bag shyly. "O-Oh, this stuff isn't for me," he replied. "Well, except the All Might protein bars, but that's just for the collectible sweatband in the box. The rest is for my mentor. He's an old--um, older man, so he likes candies that are soft and chewable like these."

"Well, aren't you a sweet protégé," Sayori replied with a smile. "Don't work too hard, 'Kay? Otherwise you'll get burned out and end up like us."

The boy awkwardly nodded. "Um, no problem! Honestly, I probably should rest and relax more often. His training is definitely intense, haha. Sometimes I'm amazed he can move around so fast and is so strong at his age. Then again, he was taller when he worked as a Pro…" He trailed off as he murmured to himself. "Maybe his Quirk had adverse affects on his skeleton or reversed his height after not using it as often as he did in his prime? Or maybe it led to his body changing to adapt to his speed, since smaller and lighter objects move faster than large ones…"

The others checked out soon after, with both girls carrying stuffed bags filled with all sorts of cookies, chips, and onigiri. Yuki and Sayori leaned back on the counter.

"Nice kids," Yuki said. "Hope they stay that way after graduating the Hero course."

"So those were UA uniforms," Sayori remarked. "And did you hear him talking about his mentor? A short old guy that used to be a tall Pro Hero…you think it's Torino?"

Yuki was silent, but then sprinted outside onto the street. She caught the trio of students and cupped her hands to her mouth. "HEY, GREEN-HAIRED HERO KID!"

The boy jumped up and spun around. "Y-yes!?"

"Ask your mentor what is favorite drink is! If it's an Old Fashioned, tell him that Mayumi didn't ever call because he was boring as shit! And her next of kin want her panties back!"

[smolbeant]

Lottery Life - Chapter One

I enter my car, slip on my sunglasses, and start driving out of town, listening to my favourite morning jams, which is usually mushy stuff, but today, today is the day for country music, sunny bright, driving through the countryside with my windows down and sunglasses on, type of morning. Once I get to the store, I am the first one there as per normal, I park the car, walk in through the back door, and start the list of everything I typically do for opening, I count the till, get all the machines started, turn on the lights, and roll up the blinds, when the time comes, I unlock the door and turn on the open sign. The mornings are always quiet, so I grab a box of new overalls, and start pricing, hanging, and creating a display.

I finish cashing out my fifth customer of the day, I wave goodbye and as they walk out the door, an extra large coffee plops on my counter. "You seem pretty cheery today, what caused this to happen?" My best friend Veronica asks. "Well good morning to you too Sunshine."

"Yes Good Morning, but like, dude for real, why are you so up and energetic this morning Lily?" She said, leaning on her hand, practically falling asleep.

"It's a good day V, what else do you expect?"

"Did you win the lottery? Is that why you're so happy?" She asks.

"V? The Lottery? No. I'm sure I didn't win." I say.

"So you didn't hear? She asks again.

"V, what is with all the questions? You're making me lose all my morning cheer." I say, taking a sip of the coffee she gave me.

"Lillian Rose, someone one the lottery, one person, which means it won't get split, and the person who bought the winning ticket, bought it here! In this town! In St. Catherines!" She explains, overly exaggerating her hand gestures.

"V, I'm sorry to break your heart, but do you know how many people drive through here? Thousands, literally thousands of people every day, you have no idea how many people could have bought that ticket." I elaborate back to her.

"Yeah I guess, but there's always a chance, It could be you! I scanned my tickets already, I only won a free play for the next draw."

"Well then, you have the next draw, now go get ready for your shift, before you're late!" I say, she sticks her tongue out at me, grabs her coffee, and walks to the back to put her stuff away, and I go back to pricing new clothes.

Half way through the day, we accomplished a lot of what was needed, the new clothing line was out, and the new displays were finished. "Who needs more coffee?" I hear from a voice approaching from behind me. Veronica giggles and runs towards them, like she needs any more coffee today, and she thought I was cheery and energetic. "Look who's overly happy today." He says. I turn around to see Noah Oliver, standing in the doorway, with his bright blue eyes and cheeky smile

"That's what she said to me this morning when she brought me coffee." I chuckle as I walk towards him and I reach for a coffee from the tray he's holding. "I don't need another one, but I will gladly take one anyway."

"Lily, sometimes I don't understand why your hands aren't shaking like crazy all the time." He chuckles, I just shrug and like a slow slip of my coffee, with a smile while I stare right at him.

"Just date already." Veronica said slyly. I choked on my coffee and stared at her, and so did Noah. He coughs to cover up the awkwardness. "What?" She asks.

"Anyway." Noah says changing the conversation. "We are going for dinner tonight... all of us, Harley is meeting us at the restaurant down the street, and 8pm okay?"

"I'm so down for dinner man, I'm so so in!" Veronica yelled.

"I don't know guys." I say. "I kinda just want to have a bath and binge watch some shows."

"Bro, It's Wednesday, do that another day, come on, come with us." Noah says, they both stare at me for a moment, until it gets too intense and I can't handle it.

"Okay, okay fine, I'll be there, now get out of here so we can finish our jobs, you're being too distracting! I say as I shoo him out of the store.

We finish our day, close up the shop, and continue on our way, we pretty much go right from the store, to the restaurant. We walk in and wave at our friends, we walk to the table, we hug Harley and Noah, and we all sit down and look at the menus. We all order our usual, I get spinach dip and a caesar salad, Veronica gets a spinach dip and cauliflower bites, Noah gets his usual burger and poutine, and Harley gets a plate of nachos.

"So, did everyone check their lotto tickets?" Harley asks.

"Oh no, not you too." I say, sighing and dropping my shoulders.

"Yep, I got a free play, one, out of all 6 tickets I bought." V says.

"6 tickets?! Jeez V." Noah says. "I only bought two, there weren't any winners, I guess I'm going back to work tomorrow. Harley?"

"I bought 5, I really thought I was going to win the big one, I only got two dollars and two free plays." Harley elaborated.

"Hey at least you won something." Noah says. "I would have been happier with that than two losers."

"That's because you are a loser." V giggles. "You won more than I did Harley."

"And Lily? You scanned your tickets yeah? What did you win?" Harley asks.

I put down my fork and take a sip of my water before I elaborate. "No." I shake my head. "I haven't scanned them yet, but I promise I will stop at the gas station on my way home, just so you guys can shut up. We all know we have almost a 1 in 14 million chance of winning, so it probably wasn't me just like how it wasn't any of you." Everyone just kinda shrugs it off and continues munching on their food. After everyone finishes their plates, we all split two desserts, a cheese cake, and a plate of two brownies and ice cream.

We all split the bill and walk outside to our cars together, we say our goodbyes and we leave. I fulfil my promise and I drive to the closest gas station, I pull my one ticket from my purse, sign it, then walk inside to the cashier to scan it. I'm staring at the screen waiting for the screen to go blue and say 'not a winner', but instead the screen goes green, the cashier looks at me "Congratulations Ms. Lillian Rose Kebble, you just won yourself 75 Million dollars."

75 Million Dollars

[oflgtfol]

i feel like, intuitively, you’d assume that Stocking Shelves is a lot more monotonous than Cashiering On Register but frankly its the other way around for me. like my shifts where i just do truck are always unpredictable but in a good way, like no truck is ever the same, so week by week even though im almost always assigned the same area, i’m never stocking the exact same items. and we always have a ton of overstock so trying to sort out where to put it is, well quite frankly fucking annoying for many reasons, but its like a puzzle. and theres always the sense of accomplishment of finally completing everything, uboat empty and no more boxes on the ground, etc. but cashiering is just the same god damn shit. in between customers sweep the floor, wipe down the counters, organize the aisles immediately nearby the queue line. and when a customer comes its always the same interaction. hi how are you today. im good thank you. scan items in silence unless customer engages in small talk about the weather or whatever theyre buying. im sorry the sale is for fall items only, this is a year round item, if it were fall then it’d be labeled that. you can find the coupon on our website. its not loading? well we do have free customer wifi if that might help. its still not loading? ah it might take a minute. stand there in silence as their phone doesnt load. it finally loads and i scan it. oh the other coupon? thats not a coupon thats just saying this specific collection of items are 40% off. you didnt buy anything in that collection so i cant give you 40% off. im sorry about that. and whats your email? you dont want to give it? thats fine no worries! (yes worries.) Your total is $7.67. card. press green for credit. heres your receipt. have a nice day. and then i go back to sweeping the floor or whatever. over and over again for four hours. the only element of unpredictably is an unwelcome one because the only possible change of routine comes from some customer bitching about coupons or sales or whatever the fuck. like im so sorry that you dont know how to fucking read but the sale says fall candles these are literally just normal plain candles. the spring items are on clearance and theyre marked by a green label that says SPRING in all caps i cant give you a year-round flower stem for clearance price when it isnt a spring item because SPRING items are very clearly marked differently. ma’am do you know how to READ

[simping-for-kamski]

12 Steps of Xmas - ch 3

3. Denial

Hank was tempted to go to Jimmy’s bar, get a few glasses of Whiskey for dinner before crashing home, likely waking up at 2 AM and snacking on a noodle box from the Thai. Instead, he tried to make an effort. For Cole.

Of the various restaurants he walked past, the Kebab n’ Jazz caught his attention. The door counted three different signs forbidding entry to androids, and a whole collection of anti-android stickers. Hank pushed it, scanned the place and decided it looked decent. There was a bit of a cabaret feeling to the room, with mediterranean accents, a small stage with a vacant piano, and soft jazz pouring from the speakers.

Hank reached the counter to place his order for kebab and fries. As he waited, the front door’s bell chimed and another customer came in.

“Same as usual,” he said. The voice sounded familiar by now, and Hank turned around.

They were both surprised to see one another again.

“You’ following me or something?” Leo asked.

“No, but this is getting to be weird,” Hank huffed.

“Yeah. It’s either that or it’s fate,” Leo snorted. He bit his lips, grimacing. “Did you order falafel?”

“Kebab,” Hank said, nodding toward the meat roll.

“Take falafel next time,” Leo advised. “Everything’s good but if you come here, you wanna come for the falafel.”

“Honestly, I came for the plastic-free environment,” Hank admitted.

“Yeah, it’s a great complement to organic food,” Leo grinned.

They got their servings and somehow, ended up sitting together.

“So, you’re really an anti?” Leo asked.

“I don’t know.” Hank shrugged. Was he? “Maybe I’m just your typical middle-aged white man. Maybe I’m just what I swore never to become when I was about your age.” He forked up meat, fries and sauce. “You then?” he asked Leo through half a mouthful.

“Might have taken part in some radical actions a few years back,” Leo answered, plucking a falafel with his bare fingers. “Vandalizing androids doesn’t change a thing though. I hate that they’re here. We deserved better. They’re not machines emulating humans, they’re the literal embodiment of capitalism. It’s the fucking end of mankind, and we brought it to life,” he said and bit on his falafel. He said those things so casually, but there was something heartfelt and honest about the words.

“I’m sorry,” Hank murmured.

“For what? It’s not like you invented androids,” Leo argued. “Kamski did.” He sneered, as did Hank—he immediately remembered the guy from interviews way back when he was still CEO of CyberLife. Weird chap. “I’ve never met him but I know he and my dad were kinda close. Had to send him an invite for the funeral. Bastard said he couldn’t come—declined with a fucking sms.”

Hank’s jaw went just a bit slack and he quickly swallowed his mouthful. “I didn’t realize you were high society…”

“I’m not,” Leo denied. “My dad all but disinherited me. If the police hadn’t shot his android and destroyed it, that piece of plastic would have inherited nearly all of his wealth and estate while I’d get the scraps.”

“That’s messed up…” Hank blemished. “We don’t know each other that well, but no matter your issues, you didn’t deserve to be treated that way by your own dad.”

Leo gave him a lopsided smile. He might look like shit, that smile was beautiful and brought light and life to his face. Hank cleared his throat.

“So, you come here often?” he asked, realized what that sounded like, and they both laughed. Leo really had an expressive smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “I come here often.” He glanced towards the stage. “I play gigs when I need money.”

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “You play?”

“The piano, yeah.” There was something in Leo’s eyes, some kind of glee with a hint of desperate need to… please? Get approval? Validation? Hank got a faint reminiscence of the way Cole looked at him sometimes, when he’d had a rough day at school but put up that proud mask, acting the happy tough boy part, and all it took to make it real was Hank telling him “Hey, buddy? You know dad’s damn proud of you?”

Hank looked at the piano at the back of the stage, then back at Leo, his gaze a blatant invitation. “Your phone number?” he asked as he tapped the Swish icon on his phone, ready to tip the young man, but Leo shook his head.

“Nah, don’t; I’ll play for free tonight,” the boy assured him.

Hank nodded. “Just your phone number then?” he asked cockily, pulling his contact list instead.

He wasn’t all too sure about that move or what drove it, but he didn’t look past. Leo laughed nervously, hesitating for one or two secs before entering his number and leaving the table to join the piano.

He was good at it. Music with soul, for real. It was nice to just sit back and listen, and watch as the young man transformed himself behind the keys, like they freed him for a while. Hank smiled softly. He craved for a glass of Whiskey, he did, but he put it off, getting drunk on the music instead, gazing at the young man, the movement of his shoulders, the relaxation lifting some of the crispation off his face.

It was much nicer being here than being home.

READ IT ON AO3

[itsmackeever]

Random text post because I’m bothered.

I was just in line at target to check out, and decided to not use self checkout because I had a lot in my cart. The cashier and lady in line in front of me both had masks on. About 99% of the store didn’t, so I didn’t think anything of it.

The cashier was sooooo sweet and bubbly and talkative to the lady ahead of me. She was talking about her day and joking around with other employees that walked by, and said one employee has made her life better since meeting him. So sweet.

It’s my turn now to check out, and she doesn’t even reply when I greeted her. Rings up a couple of my items and then asks how I’m doing, but not in the same tone as with the previous customer. I thought maybe she felt weird because I didn’t have a mask on, so I made sure to stay behind the plastic guard between us. I kept trying to put my phone number in the card machine, but it wasn’t registering my finger, so after multiple attempts, I gave up and just waited for her to finish ringing up my items.

She rings everything up and in the most irritated voice goes “do you want to type your phone number in or scan it?”

“I can press it in”

She angrily grabs the little pen that had fallen back behind the machine and aggressively taps the screen until it’s ready for my number.

“Oh! Thank you” I said because I couldn’t reach or see the pen because of the previously mentioned plastic guard…

She just waits for me to pay.

“Thanks have a good day” and hands me the receipt.

Not to mention she helped the lady in front of me with her bags, to make sure she got everything. Before I even get around the counter to start getting my bags, she’s already checking out the lady behind me and putting things in bags. I’m hoping I got all my items, because I grabbed my things in a hurry to not be in the way.

I literally have no idea what I did for her to have treated me so differently than the lady in front of me. But I’m a softy and it honestly hurt my feelings 😕

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Hope Abbott/Trance:

A seemingly ordinary trip to town hall for information turns into something more for Hope and Quentin Quire.

Hope efficiently scanned several quotes from caterers for a Victorian style charity gala that she was planning as they waited, frowning at some of the truly idiotic dishes they had come up with. One even had gone for the Titanic menu, completely forgetting that this was from the Edwardian period. Glancing up at QQ, she noticed he was focused on his phone as well. They never spoke much when they were sent out together and things had become even weirder after she'd become trapped in his head. Yet when she tossed him another glance and noticed two men writhing on the phone screen, Hope could not stop herself from sending him an incredulous: "Seriously?!?"

Quentin plucked out an earbud and glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I don't think this one is gonna get many views, either. He wasn't particularly good, just kind of pushing rope. Oh, don't give me that look. It's the least offensive thing you'll see here in this flatscan bureaucracy hell today."

Rolling her eyes at him, Hope hissed in a low voice: "Watch whatever of that stuff you like. Just not here, because if you get us kicked out and I have to get back into this line alone or even navigate this bureaucratic hell alone, I will ruin your online reputation in whatever way I can."

"That sounds like a challenge. I would love to see it." Still, he put his phone away and decided to spend his queue time perusing the thoughts of the thankless clerks at the counter. Nothing intrusive, just an assessment of the day's troubles and what to expect when they got called up. "Ugh, she won't stop thinking about how her husband is leaving her," he muttered, eyeing one of the clerks. "If she keeps blubbering over that guy she's helping, then I can see why he's packing up. Still, I'm sure she's desperate to please someone. She might not ask too many questions."

"Or she might just decide to take it out upon her customers." Hope commented cynically, having tucked her own phone in her tote. "The man over there is telephoning his wife about not being able to get the papers because an initial is out of place?" Glancing over at the other clerks, she spotted a sour faced woman with a tight bun and black glasses. "And behold, is that not the woman you managed to get in an argument with the last time. Something about being a hoodlum?"

"How could she have called me that when my shoes alone cost more than her whole Dress Barn wardrobe? These are Louboutin!" Which he was wasting standing in this infernal line. It felt like an eternity before they were finally called up, thankfully not to either clerk they had clocked as a screaming match waiting to happen. Instead, just a generic civil service schlub. Nothing interesting going on in his brain, just waiting out the clock until his lunch break. Quentin felt a modicum of something approaching sympathy, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. After all, if this person had any self-respect, then he would have taken literally any other job.

Hope immediately pulled out her business smile and removed a neat folder from her tote. "Good afternoon. We would like to request the property records for the following three properties since they were not available digitally." Removing three forms from the folder she quickly gave them a final once over before handing over the forms. "I believe that is everything that is required?"

The civic automaton wordlessly took the forms and turned to his computer. He paused after a few seconds, something approaching an actual human emotion passing over his face before he erased it just as quickly. "One moment, please," he said, standing up. "I need to speak with a colleague."

Quentin raised an eyebrow at Hope as the man retreated, and then extended his mind to follow him into a back office. "Well, this is fucking fishy," he said. "Did you use the wrong color pen?"

"Not unless blue ink suddenly is an issue." Hope stared at the door the man had vanished through. "It is all double checked, initialized and filled out in triplicate. No, something more is going on here. He did not even have the time to look at the forms properly. He barely glanced at the properties we wanted information on..." She took a quick glance around her and lowered her voice: "You better take a peek at what's going on. I cannot... not here in the open."

[risaonda]

not 2 b all “i work in a clothing store” on main but the hangers thing is so tricky bc like...sometimes i Do wish the customer would help w them instead of standing there doing Nothing and just watching me try 2 take Twenty Shirts Off Their Hangers and other times i’m like. please stop i know ur trying to help but ur not

mayb it’s the difference between already having the things off the hangers ready to go vs trying to take them off the hangers At the counter while i am Also trying to take the things off the hangers idk

[calummss]

Lilac And Lilacs | John Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas wants john to marry esme lee to finally put an end to the shelby-lee family war. john’s heart however belongs to francesca wellington, the barmaid at the garrison who finds john’s romantic talk charming but is oblivious to his intentions with her

pairing: fem! oc x john shelby

words: 2.2k

a/n: john is more romantic in this fic than canon, still i find it to be somewhat believable. my choice of words for john are more proper but nonetheless believable in my eyes if john really tried to impress a girl. even if you aren’t a fan of oc fanfics i promise y’all will love this

The door to the Garrison flew open with a loud bang, eyes of the customers already enjoying their pints fixated on John Shelby as his heavy footsteps weighted the old wooden floor of the pub. His gaze met the emerald eyes of Francesca Wellington, who gave him a defeated look; a reminder to leave the building unharmed at his expense.

‘Sorry, darling, old habits.’ His soft tone rang bells inside her head. A light blooming in the pit of her stomach as John sat down at the counter and grinned, his pearly white teeth nothing but inviting.

‘Old habits still have an urge for whiskey?’ Francesca returned the smile, her eyes reflecting the sunlight only he seemed to take notice of.

‘They do.’ John lifted his cap off his head and set it aside, the rough and violent part of him too.

Harsh walls let down that were only ever meant for her. Francesca was the only one that John ever allowed himself to be more relaxed with. More calm and less tough. A yin-yang relationship that turned heads even inside of the room, though it was no secret that the two of them were close.

‘Coming right up, Mr. Shelby.’ Her cheery voice echoed deep into his mind, the colour yellow coming to mind. Just like the sun.

‘I told you to call me John on more than one occasion, Frankie.’

‘I know,’ Francesca briefly turned around to grab a bottle of whiskey that was standing on display. ‘But it feels so informal, you know…you being a Peaky Blinder especially a founder.’ The gradual high tone that made her statement sound more like a question made him chuckle.

‘We are friends, are we not?’ John’s fingertips grazed the rim of the glass.

‘Depends how you define friends, John.’ She raised an amused eyebrow, annunciating his name with a grin, her hair the colour of wheat and sunshine more beautiful than John had remembered.

‘I believe that friends always listen to what the other has to say.’

‘I’m a barmaid, that is quite literally my job.’ Francesca placed an ashtray next to the glass. ‘To listen to old men wail about their wives and children, how they regret the life they chose and how everything is so awful, but that I am the highlight of their day…though I believe they’re talking about the bottle of whiskey more than me.’ Her giggle warmed his heart on the cold November morning.

‘Why wouldn’t you be the highlight of their day?’ John leaned forward, his breath so close she could feel it on her neck as he removed a piece of dust that was sitting on top of her hair.

Collecting herself, Francesca let out a small cough. ‘I’m a barmaid walking around in filth. Dirt all over myself, messy hair,’

‘You’re still gorgeous to me…’ The seriousness in John’s tone and face let a light blush warm the cheeks of Francesca, her fingers rubbing against each other under the counter that was the only thing separating their bodies.

Francesca’s mind wandered to Thomas Shelby. John’s older brother and the head of the Peaky Blinders. If he set something in motion then it would happen. No one dared crossing him. Why John ignored his brother’s orders was beyond what she could imagine.

‘John,’ she coughed, shaking her head at the same time. ‘You can’t say that,’ her eyes scanned to see if anyone was listening in. ‘I can’t be found being courted by one of Small Heath’s most eligible bachelors. It’s not proper for me or you.’

‘I never intend to marry Esme.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I don’t love her.’

‘Marriage is about convenience, John.’ Francesca said, her mind forced back to reality when she found herself thinking of the life she could lead with him if the circumstances were aligned with their fate.

‘Not in my eyes.’ He downed the rest of the amber gold liquid that burned his throat. ‘I want to marry for love. For a partner that matches my half…not too perfectly though because that would feel too artificial.’

‘Such a romantic at heart.’ She poked at him, his love hidden behind his eyes as clear as the summer sky the day he first saw her.

‘You have no idea, Frankie.’

For a short moment it was quiet. Cars driving past the Garrison, the sound of clanking metal, and worried mothers running after their children. John’s eyes were on Francesca the entire time she had turned her back to him, trying to gather a moment of clarity, hidden by the cleaning of various glasses that had piled up beside the sink.

‘I want to be with you, Frankie.’ His soft tone had once more invaded all her senses.

‘John, I— I don’t think you would want to be with me.’ She turned around.

‘You’re everything that I want.’

‘And what do I have?’ Her hands slammed onto the counter. Her face was pained with all of the confessions he had made the past minutes, yet she struggled to be angry at him.

John leaned forward, his pink lips pulled into a smirk as his breath met her rosy cheeks. ‘My name written all over you.’

Francesca pulled away hastily, head turning in every direction to make sure no one had heard the thing he had said. ‘John!’ She half yelled before lowering her voice, ‘You’re making me blush.’

‘I like seeing you red because of me. Makes my ego a little bit bigger than it already is.’ And he was met with a firm slap on his upper arm.

‘I don’t think I’m built for the life you lead…All the violence? Not only would I constantly be worried about my safety but also yours.’

‘So you worry about me, huh?’

‘John.’

‘I would protect you from all violence.’ He reached out to firmly hold her soft hand that felt like it already belonged to him. ‘My hands carry the weight of blood and punches so that you can wear the finest jewellery in the world.’

Francesca’s head tilted to the side, her fingers brushing against his wrist.

‘I mean it.’

She retrieved her hand, ‘You’re flirting with me in a bar full of men that have nothing better to do than to listen and eye us up and down.’

‘I’m a Shelby. I can do whatever I want, and this lady,’ he turns around, all men staring at him. ‘Feels uncomfortable with all of you listening in so unless you want to keep your ears, you keep to your business and your business only. Have I made myself clear?’

Men muttered, turning around instantly and didn’t dare to turn their heads once more. John too turned back around again, his smile painted back on.

‘John has gone all soft.’ A voice said from the back, the smile quickly dropping off of John’s face as he turned around, grabbed his cap and stormed to the direction of the voice where he grabbed a fistful of the man’s collar bringing him to his knees.

John’s free hand took the cap, the blades close to the man’s face who was now panicking.

‘I have not gone soft.’ John breathed through his teeth. ‘I merely treat a woman how she should be. Now remember what I said about the ears of the men inside this building? Same goes for your lips and tongue. I hate to repeat myself, so leave this establishment before I ruin this new suit I just got. Hate to ruin such fine work with a man’s blood not worth it.’

The man stumbled, his friends following him outside of the door. The rest of the room stuck to their business as John had instructed them moments ago.

Francesca met John’s face with widened eyes.

‘Frankie, I would never let a scratch on your body. If I did it would be the day I’d stop existing.’ He cupped her cheeks with one hand, his thumb stroking her cheek.

‘How are you ever going to make sure that I don’t get hurt? That’s practically impossible. What if I fall into a river?’ She smiled, still stern.

‘Then I will bleed every river dry that flows on this earth to stop you from ever falling into one.’

John’s grip on Francesca’s cheek grew tighter as he slowly yet steadily pulled her closer, close enough to let him kiss her as he had imagined over a hundred times. Her lips melted into his. Engulfed by his desire to deepen the kiss and push himself against her then was physically possible but it was enough that for this moment he could feel her beyond her hand and cheek. Her lips as addictive as cocaine.

John dreaded pulling away from her but held her close. ‘I’m addicted to you.’

‘What,’ she breathed deeply, her mind still processing what had just happened.

‘Every time I’m away from you, my heart only wants to feel you. My eyes want to see you. My ears want to hear your voice that’s sweet like honey. My nose wants your smell, my skin your touch. My lips melting into yours until we both forget our names.’ He paused for a brief moment, his eyes holding hers. ‘I’m addicted to you, Francesca Wellington. My heart, body, and soul belong to you. Yours to love, yours to hate, simply and utterly yours. You don’t have to be mine but I will always be yours.’

Words.

Simply just words, but they had made Francesca forget everything and anything that wasn’t John. She forgot that he was to marry Esme despite what he wanted. She forgot that she wasn’t enough, that she couldn’t give him what he needed despite his every belief.

‘John,’ her breaths drew heavier, ‘I— I told you that this cannot happen.’ She pulled away, stumbling back and steadying herself against the back counter. ‘You are marrying Esme! You are setting me up to be the girl discarded by Shelby when I already work as a maid and had a daughter out of wedlock! I’m a whore and it wouldn’t do a Shelby good to be seen with a whore. With me.’

‘You have bewitched me.’ John’s hand shot towards Francesca’s wrist, her breath caught in her throat as her lips trembled, looking at the man she felt for but could not be able to feel anymore. ‘On days I do not see you, even the warmth of the sun does not make the coldness of your absence any more bearable. The flowers hang as the dry soil does not give them what they need to survive. My heart feels an ever pit of loneliness when you are not around me. You are the sun my heart, mind, soul orbit around. They can only be complete if you are my center. Without you nothing makes sense.’

Francesca’s tears had stained her lilac dress, the colour now a deeper purple. A growing pain in her chest that made it hard to breathe. Her hands felt weighted and felt the urge to drop down to the wooden floor but she fought back, her eyes not ready to part from John’s face that has never looked the way it did at this present moment.

‘If I marry Esme, every waking moment until I close my eyes I will long for you. For your touch, your smell, your laugh, my heart clenches at the thought of a future without you. Every day I pass the lilacs that are planted in front of the flower shop and every day I fight the urge to not buy you every lilac I see because the colour reminds me of the ribbon in your hair. I don’t care what Tommy has planned for me because if you are not in his plans, there is no reason for me to continue breathing as I do now.’

‘John, I—‘

‘If you do not say that you feel the same way about me, it is better to not say anything at all. The pain would still be great but I couldn’t stomach it if you would speak the words that would break my heart.’

The urge to kiss him felt tiresome as Francesca fought every nerve in her body, blood pulsing through her veins, trying not to give in. But what happens if you leave a cheese trap for a mouse? They take it, no matter how often they do it. They take the risk.

Francesca pulled John in for a kiss. Her hands on either side of his head as John leaned over even further to taste the sweetness of the woman he had longed for.

‘Yes.’ Francesca breathed out heavily, her chest rising and falling.

‘Yes what?’

‘I’ll be with you.’

‘You will?’ John’s eyes lit up brighter than the light that shone above them.

Francesca nodded, her lips curling into a warming smile.

John pulled her in for another kiss, this time savouring her taste that he would taste and cherish for the rest of his life.