Tumgik
#usually customer service sucks
goth-goro · 2 years
Text
I HAVE OFFICIALLY HAD THE NICEST HUMAN INTERACTION OF ALL TIME
ok sO. i work at a hotel at the front desk, and there’s a collection convention in town, so a bunch of vendors are staying with us since we’re right by the convention center. and one of the vendors was checking in the other day wearing a pokemon hat (specifically Ghastly) and i said i liked it and she said “oh we sell them! what’s your favorite pokémon, maybe we have one of them!” and i said like. probably not, my favorite is dugtrio because i think it’s just the dumbest little thing and the idea that a pokemon was so dumb that it’s evolution was just “fuck it there’s three of them” is super funny. (i also showed her that i keep a dugtrio card in my phone case for moral support.)
and then!! like a half hour or so later! her partner comes to the front desk and just!! hands me a dugtrio sticker like it’s a drug deal and goes “this is for you” like!! that’s so sweet!!! nothing else to the interaction they just wanted to give me a little sticker!!!
and i thought that was the end of it but then they came by the other day and asked what my favorite was again because they were opening decks, and i said i love diglett and dugtrio, and she basically said alright and walked away. and then TODAY, i come into work and my coworkers handed me an envelope with two diglett cards in it. and i just. god humans can be so nice sometimes. like these people were selling at a convention and were opening card packs and got a few they didn’t want and instead of just putting them in a box somewhere they thought hey. that kid at the front desk might want these. didn’t leave a card or a name, wasn’t trying to get me to buy their stuff. just wanted to make a stranger smile, and went out of their way to do that.
i know the world sucks sometimes but these are the moments i remember that i really do love people. i can be pretty nihilistic but i think that the things that give me the most hope are the little ways most people are always thinking about the people around them, and i think we’ll be okay if we just nurture that sort of kindness.
anyways. i hope you enjoy my waxing poetic about diglett cards.
3 notes · View notes
no27-autonation-honda · 4 months
Text
not to be a colossal fucking cowabummer about everything but it really does suck that like. my really chill and like. supposedly more realistic type of career goal feels about as unattainable as like a kid saying he wants to be a singer or something
#kazoo noises#like yeah this was supposed to be a job i COULD get. i thought bc like. i was going into the field bc i loved the work and not bc i couldnt#make it into academia (fuck u alt-ac term users yall are snobs) id like maybe be able to cobble it together bc like. im good at doing work.#i can usually make something happen and i got a good attitude. but jesus ive got one year left and every job app comes back negative if the#even bother to respond#like idk man. i knew iwasnt gonna be making money or shit and i knew it was gonna be rough but like. everyone else i meet already has a gig#or at least like gig adjacent. volunteer or field experience or internship and like. i cant get anything to stick. its not like ive done#nothing either? ive worked extensively with small scale exhibition design. i have worked extensively with special collections libraries.#i have literal years worth of research experience from college. i have an entirely customer service based resume thats not academic so i#can handle a patron (and crucially different from my peers: I WANT TO)#i can organize. i can write and design labels. i can communicate. i can handle special collections objects. i can make ANY microfilm reader#work for me even when it doesnt want to#and im not saying my classmates arent qualified. but like. surely this has to amount to something. i have been so stupidly lucky#to have even half the experiences i do. i have variety in my degree that even some of my classmates would kill for i think. i did. so much.#i have had so many advantages and i like to think i use them well and that i am grateful for them. but why cant i make that shit connect???#my resume is good. im reliable. i want to work more than anything. so why cant i get a call back???#legitimately how much longer do i get to keep telling myself i a not the common denominator here#sorry for diary posting but im prepping to walk to the house tour and planning what job apps i can fill out when i get back and literally.#just like. why do i bother. i should have just held my nose and done the online only program in state. i'd probably spend less time rotting#god being 23 fucking sucks. it is going to be better. im literally just barely an adult. this cant be it and it wont be it. but jesus. i go#over having to beg for a rejection letter about ten months ago when i still felt like i had a shot at these experiences
3 notes · View notes
skippingseaglass · 7 months
Text
i forget if someone already said this and i'm just repeating it because i liked it but when people say "the transgenders want to ravage our lives and prey on our children" i really can't help but laugh because like
you know what i wanna do?? i want to help an old lady across the street and i want her to call me a fine young man and pat me on the head (to be fair i would probably be about her height i'm really short) and i want her to have a nice day and i want me to have a nice day
1 note · View note
maroonafternoon · 9 months
Text
Some guy called me an idiot at work today:///
0 notes
Text
Is it normal to only have one unpaid 30min break in an 8 hour shift? That's all I get at my new job. Even the people who work 10 hours only get one unpaid 30min. This is my second job and at my first one the break rule was 4hr shift = one paid 15 min, 5-6 hour shift = one paid 15, one unpaid 30, and 8+ hour shift = two paid 15, one unpaid 30. It's weird bc the working conditions are pretty good otherwise but only one unpaid 30????? In 8 hours????? Boss I am mentally ill
1 note · View note
mintmatcha · 3 months
Note
wow actually going insane over the restaurant au I like need to know if reader even has a chance with him/finds out they have a chance… because like man I’ve SEEN situations like this irl and it always turns out bad like. they’re gonna get married and it’s gonna be fuckin awful. ur dialogue is so good and natural and believable and even though the snippets are like not business hour snippets I literally feel customer service anxiety while reading each one (in a good way!!!! I’m like how the fuck did you build the atmosphere in a way that puts me there!!!!) anyway just wanted to stop by and say I’m going insane over this + thank you
I think reader almost gives up--
until Kirishima and Izuku, Bakugo's friends, come to the restaurant. She's their server and does her best to go above and beyond, as usual. They're sweet customers -katsuki would kill them if they weren't!- and they tip you so well--
and you catch a bit of their conversation.
"That's bakugo's girl, huh?" the redhead says and your heart almost stops. His girl? You're on the other side of their booth, behind the divider, completely out of their sight line. "She's a cutie."
"-And sweet."
"So sweet!" Kirishima laughs, incredulous. "I was kind of worried she was going to be like--"
"Shh! Don't say her name too loud." Izuku groans. "I'm afraid she's going to swoop in out of nowhere and ruin everything."
So his friends don't like Cami either. Not surprising.
"I see why she's threatened though. I think he really likes this one."
"He's crazy about her." Kirishima says. "He just needs to get his act together and leave Cams-- why are you making that face?"
Izuku sucks air through his teeth. "I'm not supposed to tell you."
"Did he leave her?!"
"No, but..." Izuku's voice drops so low that you can barely make out what he's whispering. "He's been sleeping on my couch the past couple weeks."
579 notes · View notes
elliesmainhoe · 9 months
Text
Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.
Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.
you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.
speaking of SPOLING-
she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.
but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.
in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"
arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow
(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)
in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩
always her arm candy
every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?
it's an odd feeling.
an unfamiliar feeling.
but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.
so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333
she does the same to you!!
it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:
"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.
Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"
•••••••
it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.
The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.
"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.
"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.
"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.
"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."
"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"
you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.
the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.
"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."
"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."
a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.
"now, which receptionist said that?"
•••••••••
A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.
1K notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Note
Hello, I love all your aus. I selfishly want to ask for more of Danny's Grill. Pretty please.
Danny added cilantro to the tacos before closing the lid on the carryout box. He glances behind him to see Alvin handing out toys to the kids at the window.
Alvin smiles sweetly at a little girl who stands on her tiptoes to point at the red truck inside Alvin's toy chest. His crush hands her some stickers to build her race track, and Danny's heart leaps at the sweet image.
Little toy cars, dolls, or fidget toys were a real hit with the crime alley children—most didn't have a chance for new toys—and Alvin seemed to glow whenever he gave a new child a toy.
It was his idea on the second night of them going around. Usually, people don't get small gifts when getting food from a food truck, but a few nights ago, Alvin had asked if he could go with Danny on his rounds.
He wanted to tell him no at first since Red Hood had yet to find his pimp, but one look at those sea watercolor eyes had him folding faster than wet paper. He had placed Alvin as the cashier, a grin never leaving his face as Danny listened to the other charm all the customers that wandered over.
It was an oddly domestic setup they had going on.
Danny, with his random menu of food, and Alvin, with his bright smile and charming deposition. After a full day and a bit of night selling food, the two would head home to relax in the oversized baths and spend a lazy afternoon.
All of Danny's chores were done by ghosts who occasionally came by to support them. Other times, they were there to serve Danny. He didn't feel comfortable with having someone waiting on him hand and foot, but he did like treating Alvin with the best service he could offer.
Since Alvin moved in, Danny has been proud to notice his eye bags had decreased, his skin had cleared, and the tension always resting on his shoulders had vanished. He also put on some weight, which upset Alvin a little, but Danny thought it was nice to see him healing.
He worried he was getting attached to Alvin. Danny knew he had fallen in love with Alvin, as much as he wished he hadn't, but he couldn't help it.
Alvin was everything he ever wanted in a partner and more. It was complicated to remind himself that eventually, Alivn would be safe enough to leave his home. It was shameful to admit he was glad that Red Hood was taking a while to find the assholes who hurt his friend.
"Here you are." He tells the teenager with them. "Three orders of tacos de barbacoa."
The teen's nose wrinkles. "Your Spanish sucks."
"I tell him the same thing all the time. But at least he can make really great tacos." Alvin winks as the teenager's smirk grows. The little kids with him laugh happily, and the group of five wanders away.
One little boy is showing off his new car while the little girl grabs the hand the teenager offers her. Alvin watches them until they retreat back into the apartment building from which they came.
Alvin leans back with a loving sigh. "Adorable little beasts"
"What made them beastly?" Danny asks, amused, as the other points to the little tray of cookie bags sitting on the window table.
"The little girl stole two bags. The older one definitely saw but he acted like he didn't."
"That's why you gave them more cookies?" Danny asked, remembering that Alvin had grabbed the to-go bag and sneakily placed the treats inside while Danny cooked.
"Sure. You don't mind if I give out free food, and it would be mean to have them all share two bags when there are five of them." Alvin leans back cracking his neck. "I come from a big family too. Trust me when I say that causes living room wars"
Cute!
Danny hastily looks away, trying to cover up his reaction to Alvin's crooked grin. While trying to hide his blushing face, Danny catches a glimpse of a figure on the rooftop watching them.
Batman.
He waves at the vigilante. He noticed the other following him a few nights ago, and despite the bat-themed hero never recognizing him, Danny still picked up a bottle of soda and a box of food to gesture at him.
He doesn't think he has time for a dinner break, but it would be rude not to offer a meal when he can.
Batman's white lenses narrow for a fraction of a second before he steps back into the shadows disappearing from sight.
He's not hungry then. Okay.
"Danny," Alvin calls from further inside the food truck. "We are almost out of food. Want to call it a night?"
"Sure, I don't mind. Do you want to do anything later?"
Alvin thinks it over before announcing, "I want to go into the pool later. Will you join me?"
I would do anything for you. Danny thinks but only says "Of course. I need a good spa day too. I'm thinking of doing a pedicure."
Alvin smiles at him, and it's brighter than any sun could ever be. With practice, the two dance around each other, doing the clean-up and closing duties to get the truck ready for travel.
Alvin falls into the places that Danny steps out of, giving Danny warm looks that make Danny slightly hot under the collar, but it makes him wish he could keep Alvin forever.
In ten minutes, they are closed up and driving out of Crime Alley on their way back to their mansion. Danny is making the last turn out of Gotham, with Alvin sitting in the passenger seat scrolling on his phone when he feels someone land on his roof.
Seeing that his food truck has become an extension of his haunt, Danny can tell who it is the second they touch his vehicle.
Batman.
When he remembers his early offer, he wonders what the man could want going for a ride. Was the hero finally going to take him up on it? That's wonderful!
"Hey Alvin, I need to do a quick stop," he tells the other while pulling into a 24-hour gas station. Alvin waves his hand, not once glancing up from his phone. Danny suddenly feels the urge to press a kiss against his cheek, but that would be creepy.
So he settles for a quick pat on his shoulders before he slips out of his seat and grabs the leftover pre-prepared meals. He also holds a water bottle just in case the bat is parched. He swiftly steps outside, tilting back to lock his gaze on Batman.
"Here you go," Danny says, holding up the food. "It's still warm."
Batman's eyes widen, then narrow. "No."
What?
"Are you not here for food?"
"No."
Danny waits a moment, but no explanation on why he was riding on his truck comes he clears his throat. "Is there anything I can help you with then?"
"What are your intentions with Tim?"
Who the hell is Tim?
Oh! Wait, he meant Tim from Second Street. Danny had sold him some food and realized the old man couldn't get back on his porch, so he built him a ramp.
Danny spoke to him only during that interaction, but if Old Man Tim was involved in a crime, it was better to act like he wasn't aware.
"Just trying to make him happy is all sir." He says carefully watching for any reaction. The best lies are ones built on truths.
Batman's face stays the same, but in one quick motion, he leaps from the truck and shoots off his grabbing hook. He's gone in seconds, rushing off into the night as Danny watches him go.
He doesn't know why but he gets the strange sense he just passed a test of some kind.
619 notes · View notes
lordprettyflackotara · 7 months
Text
criminal || Jeff the killer
Tumblr media
smut 18+, minors dni, PLEASE READ: TW: CNC, FACE FUCKING, gun play?, bank robbery, kidnapping at the end
Jeff the killer knew he was good at what he did.
He was good at killing people quickly.
Or making them suffer, depending on which he was in the mood for.
What Jeff wasn’t good at however, was two things.
1. Listening to an order.
2. Having patience.
Of course he tried his hardest to suck it up, listening to almost all of Slender’s commands without a second thought.
Those commands usually involved things he was good at.
Except for today.
Jeff grumbled unhappily to himself in the front seat of the toyota Ben managed to buy off of craigslist.
Robbery was the proxies job, not Jeff’s.
So imagine Jeff’s surprise when his latest order was to rob the local bank right before closing.
It wasn’t that the mission was hard.
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he was chosen for the job.
Eyeless Jack had been chosen as his getaway driver. Not out of choice but out of convenience.
Apparently Masky had been shot a couple of times the last mission they were on and Hoody has been moping around ever since. Since Toby wasn’t trusted enough to complete this kind of task alone, Jeff was the next runner up in Slender’s eyes.
Tasks like this were the closest Slenderman could get to getting Jeff as a proxy. So naturally he took what he could.
EJ was never normally a blabber to Jeff. Whether or not Jeff would come and say it outright, EJ was probably his favorite at the mansion. He wasn’t insufferable, usually keeping to himself and complying with Jeff’s odd favors.
However during this car ride, Jeff couldn’t help but consider Eyeless Jack to be yapping.
For some odd reason, EJ wasn’t in the mood to be ignoring Jeff’s usual disdain and grumpiness. Instead he chose to ramble on about his latest kill and the medical discoveries he had made.
On a typical Tuesday evening Jeff would’ve told him to shut the fuck up. But he was so miserable being assigned this task in the first place, he found himself holding his tongue.
The dim street lights were the only source of light on the street they rode down, the car not having headlights. Ben deemed them not to be necessary. It was almost comical watching EJ try to navigate the road without them.
Jeff unhappily reached into the glovebox, pulling out a black face mask and pair of sunglasses. If he had things go his way, he would’ve been wearing a ski mask. Unfortunately Slender disagreed, his concern revolving around not even making it into the bank itself.
He shoved the face mask on, the tips of his raw uncut smile peaking out near his ears. He put the sunglasses on, before grabbing the traditional black sack and hand gun Masky had lent him. Jeff thought the 1930’s sack was a little lame, but it was practical.
Jeff forced himself out of the car, quietly shutting the door behind him. EJ rolled down the window, deciding to remind Jeff of what they were doing.
“Alright look, just go in there, get the money so we can go,” EJ said firmly, the words catching Jeff’s attention.
Jeff mumbled an annoyed agreement, deciding it would be best to go ahead and walk on in.
“Hey Jeff?” EJ called. Jeff gritted his teeth in irritation, quickly turning around.
“What?!”
If EJ had eyes, he would’ve rolled them.
“Don’t kill nobody this time,”
Jeff shoved off his request, shoving his last mission filling in for the proxies in the back of his mind. It wasn’t his fault that Slender put him on a proxy mission. He also didn’t specify that he had to leave all the hostages alive.
Jeff muttered curses under his breath, mainly insulting EJ, before deciding to whistle.
He strolled into the bank casually, the hand gun tucked into his back waistband.
You were closing up for the night, the sight of Jeff annoying you. You had counted every drawer except for your own, and now you’d have to stay past closing. You brushed off your pencil skirt, painting on your best customer service smile.
“Hi, how can I help you?” You asked. You were puzzled by Jeff’s appearance, the sunglasses throwing you off. You wanted to assume the best, thinking he possibly blind and cautious of infections.
Jeff could hardly contain his excitement once he saw you. You had such a lovely face, your smile bright and filling him with ease. Your delicious thighs were covered by your black pencil skirt, your hair in a tight professional ponytail. He was smiling under his mask, a genuine one that wasn’t carved on.
“I’d like to make a withdrawal,” Jeff said calmly, his voice smooth like butter. His eyes scanned the bank quickly, realizing you were the only one there. Jeff mentally cursed to himself as he realized he hadn’t gotten out of the mansion much lately.
He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks as he looked at you, your curious eyes searching his covered face for further elaboration. Even in your modest uniform, Jeff could see your natural curves. How long had it been since he had been around a normal girl? One without a clock for an eye or burnt pale skin like his?
“Sir are you okay-” You began to ask, before your eyes fluttered down to his crotch. His boner was poking not so discreetly through his black jeans, your face flushing pink. Your surprised look snapped Jeff out of his daze, causing him to quickly yank his gun out of his back waistband.
“Put the fucking money in the bag bitch and no one gets hurt,” Jeff growled, shoving the bag at you. Fear crashed down over you like a violent wave as tears prickled in your eyes quickly. Your hands shook as you grabbed the keys to your cash drawer, struggling to insert the key into the keyhole.
Jeff watched in awe as you struggled to miss the keyhole for a third time. He rolled his eyes. “Useless bitch do I have to do everything? Give it to me,” He sighed. You held out the keys hesitantly, your body shaking in fear and an odd arousal as you heard him talk more. He unlocked the cash drawer, before turning his attention back to you.
“I’m not going to touch it. Put it in the fucking sack before I blow your head off,” Jeff spat. He stepped out of the way, his boner not going down. You grabbed handfuls of cash, shoving them in Jeff’s sack. He watched as you bent over, your ass looking great through your tight uniform.
“Please don’t kill me,” You whispered, tears finally falling from your waterline. Jeff contemplated his options, remembering Slenderman’s and EJ’s warnings. You were cute after all, even for a little bank teller.
“Maybe we can work something out doll,” Jeff’s pale hand stroked your face as you shoved more stacks of money into the bag. His touch felt disgusting, but his words were like pure honey. “What d-do you want?” You stuttered. You finished emptying out your drawer, turning to him and handing him the money.
Jeff towered over you, his ashy black hair hanging over his forehead and top of his sunglasses.
“Well doll, you’ve created a problem for me you see,” Jeff purred. He grabbed your tiny hand, placing it over his aching boner. Just your touch was enough to make him shift in place. Your face went bright red, your eyes widening. “I c-can’t just let you fuck me. There are cameras everywhere. I’ll be humiliated-” You began rambling, afraid that this conversation wasn’t a negation.
Jeff glanced down at the plentiful stacks of money in the bag, figuring spending a few extra minutes with you would be a decent reward. “I’m a man of compromise,” Jeff offered. He was itching to pull the trigger on the gun he was holding at your head, but taking out a camera or two would have to do for now.
He shot at the cameras on each side behind the desk, leaving only the main one in the lobby on. Jeff mentally thanked Masky for the silencer on his main gun, as it gave him more time with you. “No cameras, and as much as i’d love to ruin your tight pussy, no sex. Knees doll,” Jeff grunted. He was having a hard time adjusting to negation with a regular human, but your puppy eyes full of tears were just too darling for him to ignore.
You wanted to be disgusted by the situation, to be kicking and screaming. But something about Jeff, the way he talked and moved had you aching for more. Your bare knees hit the raw carpet, promising rug burn on your skin. Your hands were still shaking as you began to undo his belt, the killer staring down at you eagerly.
You slowly unzipped his zipper, the two of you working together to pull down his pants. “I don’t have all night,” Jeff told you impatiently. You squirmed to have him fully revealed in front of you, his cock hard in front of your face. His tip was a pinkish color, while the rest of his shaft matched the rest of his pale white skin. You slowly took him in your mouth, screwing your eyes shut. Jeff let out a quiet groan, a string of curses following behind it.
“Nuh uh doll, open those pretty eyes f’me,” Jeff ordered, trying to sound stern as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. You weren’t half bad for a little bank teller, your nipples poking through your button up as you struggled to keep your eyes on the man standing before you. Jeff grabbed your slicked back ponytail, forcing you to take more of him.
“Thats it, take it all,” Jeff murmured, licking his lips under his mask. You forced your jaw to go slack, his fingers tightly yanking at your hair. “I’d relax if I were you, unfortunately for you I don’t have all night,” Jeff sighed. You almost raised one eyebrow, before his shaft forced itself down your throat. Your waterline filled with tears immediately, your nose touching his black curls.
Jeff sighed in relief at the sensation of your tight throat, his hips beginning to buck on their own. You listened obediently, staring up at him as he throat fucked you. You struggled to breathe, a burning sensation clouding your nose. “You know, you’re actually pretty good at this,” Jeff snickered. He pulled out briefly, offering you the reward of breathing.
You gasped like a fish out of water, inhaling as much oxygen as you could. A foul mixture of saliva and drool pooled under the carpet beneath you, soaking it. Jeff considered praising you, complimenting how pretty you looked like this. Your face all red, hair messy, covered in tears and spit. But as the thought crossed his mind, there was only one other thing he would like your face coated in.
Jeff forced your head back onto his cock, continuously face fucking you as he pleased. He could feel himself getting closer, his hips stuttering. In the far distance he heard the sound of police sirens, causing him to grit his teeth in annoyance. “I’d love to paint your face doll, but I can’t leave any DNA behind. You understand right?” Jeff asked mockingly.
You almost mentally asked what he meant, before his tip hit the back of your throat one final time. His seed was warm and salty, causing you to gag at the slightest taste your tongue had the displeasure of sensing. He stayed lodged in your throat for a moment, enjoying watching you struggle to swallow him all.
Jeff snickered as he pulled out of your mouth, your knees raw with rug burn and your throat desperately trying to swallow his cum.
You panted as you looked up at him, the police sirens getting closer. He fixed himself up, extending a hand for you to take. You stared at him curiously, forgetting your situation and taking his hand.
“I’m not allowed to kill anyone. And now that you’ve seen me, you’re a liability,” Jeff told you. Your eyes darted back and forth at his sunglasses, searching for a look of his orbs.
“Looks like you’re going to have to come with me. You’ve grown on me anyways,” Jeff huffed. In a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder, dragging you and the bag of money to EJ’s car.
675 notes · View notes
aesthetic-bbyg · 1 year
Text
BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji
Tumblr media
LA!sanji x fem!reader
Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)
Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.
You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.
The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.
“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.
You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.
“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.
“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.
The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.
In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.
“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.
“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”
He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.
He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”
You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.
Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.
He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.
“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”
“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”
“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.
“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”
You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.
“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.
“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.
“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”
The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.
“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.
“He’s gonna kill you.”
“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”
You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”
Tumblr media
THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.
You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.
“We have a VIP menu?”
“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”
You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.
You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.
Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”
“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”
“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”
“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”
“I see it every day, darling.”
You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.
Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.
“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”
“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”
Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.
You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”
Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”
His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”
“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”
The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”
“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”
“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.
“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.
Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.
But if he must wait all his life, he will.
Tumblr media
sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time
lord pls send help.
451 notes · View notes
bluecollarmcandtf · 6 months
Text
Total Customer Service
My hotel famously caters to the whims of each and every guest, so I thought I'd highlight the insights of some of my staff. My "unique" recruitment process has helped me acquire an army of hard-working uniforms who are guaranteed to serve! Hopefully, this glimpse will make you want to book a visit...
Tumblr media
(Josh) The Bellhop
I love this job, but sometimes it kills my back! Who would've thought that being a porter would wear down my body more than hard labor ever did? Don't get me wrong: I'll gladly work here forever, but most of my days aren't a walk in the park. Honestly, none of them are.
When I was a construction worker, I got paid to be outside and occasionally hammer in a nail or two. My crew was pretty notorious for just standing around all day. We were doing that when my current boss approached us. I don't remember exactly what he said, but before I knew it, we were dropping our tool belts and hardhats and following him back to the hotel!
He hired me as a bellboy, so now I offer any guest the service of lugging their suitcases up to their rooms. Since I'm just staff, I obviously can't use the elevators, (those are reserved for the guests) so I carry their things up the service stairs in the back of the building. The temperature in the stairwell is always hot as hell, so I rarely end a shift without sweating through the pits of my uniform jacket. It sucks, but the AC is saved for spaces that make guests more comfortable.
Most of the customers are pleased to see me working so hard anyway. I'm usually panting by the time I deliver their luggage to their rooms. I'll always offer to unpack their things: it's a part of the hotel's five-star service.
Then I wait and see if they need anything else from me. A lot of times, I'm the first employee the guests are able to interact with, so they're usually pretty excited to take advantage of the "all-inclusive" service our hotel is famous for.
Some of them are shy about it at first and some of them are demanding from the get-go, but I'm always happy to do whatever they ask. Even if I don't particularly like what I have to do: it's just a part of the job...I love this job...I love my boss...I love that this work is my life...
Tumblr media
(Bill) The Housekeeper
Part of me cringes every time I get a look of myself in a mirror. Sure, I'm proud to be a housekeeper, but it's a real change of pace from back when I was a financial advisor. Part of me is nervous to think I could run into someone from my old life: a former colleague or an old customer perhaps. I'd still clean their room the same of course, but I can't help but wonder what they'd think of me while I did it.
I used to manage the hotel owner's finances. That's how we met. He persuaded me to grow his hotel as much as I could. It became an obsession of mine, and I'll have to admit that I tossed all my other customers to the side to focus on him. It was a bit out of character for me. I'm not really sure why I did that. Anyway, I was spending so much time at his hotel instead of my office that he offered me a job.
I can't recall his pitch, but it must have been a convincing one, because I dialed up my old former boss and quit. I just didn't want it anymore! It didn't even bother me that the only vacant position was in housekeeping!
I took it immediately.
I love cleaning up the messes our guests leave behind. Thinking about that is what gets me out of bed everyday, which is no easy feat since my shift starts at four in the morning. No matter how messy, gross, or bizarrely sticky a room is, I just love to get on my hands and knees and scrub every inch for them.
The best part is when a guest comes back to their room to find me making their bed or cleaning their shower. I can tell they're always pleasantly surprised to find me there.
I just keep my head lowered submissively like I'm supposed to and wait for them to take charge. They always do. Here at the hotel, us employees are completely at the customer's whim. I'll do anything they tell me to...I want to make them happy...I want to serve them...I want to obey.
Tumblr media
(Donavon) The Waiter
Who knew waiting could create such awful migraines. I work in the hotel bar, and every day is a new storm of hungry and entitled mouths. Each table has someone who isn't happy with their meal, and they love to express their discontent in the most ridiculous ways. Sometimes it's a glass of water in my face. Sometimes it's a slap on the ass, but it's always followed by a roar of laughter!
Usually, every guest in the restaurant joins in like it's all one sick joke.
I'm not used to being treated this way. I used co-own a nearby gym, and I always made it my mission to foster a welcoming culture of respect and familiarity. I know "the customer is always right," but sometimes it is a hard fact to swallow.
The hotel's owner helped me learn that. He approached me one night at the gym and pulled out this weird swinging medallion...
I don't remember much of what he said, but I knew I had to abandon my gym. I left my wife too. We were happy, but I couldn't work here and have other commitments.
That's how I got started waiting tables. I'd never done it before, but it's not hard when I'm constantly being told what to do. Between the customers and the boss, I spend the entire day running around fulfilling orders; table six wants more wine, table nine wants their food cut for them, table twelve wants a foot rub... you get the picture.
It's all pretty typical stuff for a restaurant, I think. The customers get full control over me and the rest of the wait staff. However, it does make serving food a little difficult at times. Last night, we had to work overtime because this one guy kept making full use of us waiters. A good chunk of my evening was spent under his table, so I had to sprint afterwards to catch up on everyone's food.
It might stress me out, but I try not to let it bother me. I'll put up with their abuse and treat them with the utmost respect like a good waiter should. I don't mind being groped and fondled by virtually every customer as I pass. Part of our service is complete access to the staff. They can do whatever they want to me...they can have me do whatever they want...they deserve that treatment...I'm meant to give them that treatment...
Tumblr media
(Ricardo) The Kitchen Staff
This job sucks. It's the truth, but I don't think I'll ever leave. The kitchens are so steamy and uncomfortable that I constantly think about walking out and getting a breath of fresh air. Still, my hands keep scrubbing countertops and chopping vegetables.
Sometimes I think of my life before I worked at this hotel, back when I was just an aimless twenty year old hanging out at the gas station. I had so much free time then. Now, I spend every waking moment in this sauna of a kitchen getting splashed with grease and oil.
Everything changed when that stranger came up to me and my buds one day. He talked really slow and dangled this weird necklace in front of our eyes. If I didn't know any better, I might think he was trying to hypnotize us!
Obviously, that's not what happened.
He was just offering us work. He made me realize how much I needed to work. I have to do this job! I need it! All my buddies agreed too. Some of them had jobs, but they didn't mind. It's been awhile since I saw them since I'm stuck down here in the kitchen. I think one of them might be a pool boy or something? I don't remember. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's more enjoyable than washing dishes down here.
The only break we get is when a customer comes in the kitchen.
One of them burst through the doors last night. We could all tell he'd had too much to drink, but that didn't change how we treated him. Like always, me and the rest of the staff stopped what we were doing and straightened our backs out of respect. He stumbled around, licking his lips as he looked us up and down. He wasn't afraid of groping us, which any guest is more than entitled to do.
Eventually, he got to me, burping in my face before covering my mouth with his slobbery lips. I'm not gay and he had a rank odor of beer on his breath, but I wasn't going to tell a customer no!
Before long, he was ordering me on the floor and crawling on top of me. The other chefs and kitchen staff got back to work, but I was left with the responsibility of keeping the guest entertained. I'd describe it as gross more than anything. I think he might've even pissed himself, but an order is an order.
His demands were the ridiculous kind only a drunk ass would make. Still, I did everything: no matter how uncomfortable, sick, or degrading they were. That's just the expectation for employees at this hotel...we are here to serve them... I'm here to serve them...I am at their whim.
...so now you understand.
My hotel is famous for its "uniquely unlimited" customer service. Stay here and you'll always be right. You'll always have someone to pick on, laugh at, play with, or use.
Get familiar with anyone that catches your eye. I can assure you that all of my employees are handsome and thoroughly conditioned. Order the waiter to pour your food over his head; tell the housekeeper to do a little dance; command the bellhop turn around and bend over. They'll do it all, and they'll thank you for it.
So what are you waiting for. Book your next vacation with us! I promise you'll enjoy meeting the rest of my staff...
252 notes · View notes
flowerfreya · 2 months
Text
Chef , I-
This is the third part to Yes, Chef
Pairing- Simon "Ghost" Reilly x Reader
Content: Simon is a dick but we already knew that
Simon is being meaner than usual to you. You haven’t messed up any order per say but the restaurant did get new front house people that have been confusing the tables and sending back food , which is causing the kitchen to back up. 
“What the fuck is going on out there”, he barks at you. 
“I’m sorry,Chef”, you want to say more. To defend yourself but you know it would just make his temper worse. 
Another new waiter comes in carrying an entree that the line cooks just fired. He looks scared but he walks over to Simon,”Chef,this table said that they already have their food”, Simon looks ready to blow a gasket.
“They already have their food” , he mutters under his breath.
You have been working for Simon for enough time that you know someone is about to get screamed at. You try to duck away but his gaze catches you and has you frozen. “Chef, I-”,
“Are you stupid?”, he interjects. 
You look from side to side in the kitchen hoping for anyone to help you but everyone is very interested in chopping the mise en place. 
“Don’t look at them”, he moves closer, craning his neck down trying to catch your eyes again, “look at me”. 
“No chef”, you whisper. 
“I didn’t think so, I don’t think the GM would hire stupid people”, he opens his arms wide,”yet here we are”, he points to the doors where people are still entering and exiting. 
“Get out”
You look at him, he can’t be serious. He just hooked up with you before dinner service and now he’s kicking you out. For fucks sake you sucked him off just forty minutes ago. 
“What?”
“I said GET OUT”, he shouts, pointing at the door. 
You're in disbelief. This can’t be happening, it wasn’t even in your section. You were doing perfect tonight. The tips,amazing. All your customers were nice. He wasn’t being fair. Your pissed but honestly a little embarrassed.Why you thought that Simon would treat you different, you should have known. 
You rush to the back to get your purse and jacket and go out the employees only exit, which is really the back of the restaurant where the trash and oil bin is. You have tears in your eyes. Your not clocking out, fuck that. He wants to send you away before your shift is over , then he can pay for it. 
You are still getting your life together, when someone steps out from the shadows and scares the shit out of you. 
“You alright, honey”
Masterlist
87 notes · View notes
performativezippers · 3 months
Text
This is a departure from what I usually do, but I'm hiring a bunch of people at my work right now and thought I'd leave you some tips in case you're going to be job searching anytime soon. Disclaimer: nothing applies to everyone, etc, whatever. I work in higher ed as a staff member which is big and bureaucratic and of like a dysfunctional nonprofit, but this will apply to many other jobs/industries as well.
tl;dr: make your resume relevant and clean, customize and personalize your cover letter, use every interview question as the chance to share an experience from a previous job that makes you look good, and remember the answer is never just "no."
Resume Tips
Include past job history for 5 years if you're young or 10 years if you're older. If your only experience isn't directly relevant (ex: you've only worked in fast food and it's a receptionist job), frame the duties in ways that make it seem more relevant, such as "customer service" instead of "500 hot dogs a day."
include dates of employment -- i fyou don't, i assume you have something to hide (you got fired after 3 months)
Each job should have 3-5 bullet points describing the duties. Don't lie, but you can make them sound cool. "Answered the phones" could be "First point of contact for all clients and contractors."
Format it so I can read it. I should easily be able to see position, company, dates, and duties. The page should have a decent amount of white space so my eyeballs don't explode, but it's very obvious if you have nothing to say and are making the margins big to make it look full. Don't do that!
Cover letter Tips
WRITE ONE, oh my god. We asked for resume and cover letter for the application and automatically rejected everyone who didn't write one. I know they suck, but if you're applying for the job, actually apply for the job.
Address it to the right person/job. We are hiring for a case manager, and we got several that said things like "i look forward to joining your company as a project specialist" or whatever. (a) not a company, (b) not a project specialist. I KNOW you use a template that you update for each job you apply to, but you have to actually update it, buddy.
Customize it. "I will bring valuable skills to your company" is nothing. That's meaningless. I ignore that. The cover letter is for you to tell me why you'd be a good fit for my job, not a job.
The format can be: "Dear X, I am writing to enthusiastically apply to the position of [job] at [company]." Paragraph on your related experience. Paragraph on why what you can bring is perfect for what they specifically need (include something you learned from your research on their website for bonus points). A sentence or two on what excites you about this job. "Thank you very much for your time and consideration, Your Name."
Interview Tips
Be on time. Dress in a way that demonstrates effort (like a button down shirt). If you have a natural resting bitch face, try not to for the interview.
If you're doing it in person (not on zoom or phone) bring something to write things down on, like a notepad. This is where you can keep your questions for them, as well as jot down ideas that occur to you as they're asking the question. Don't use your phone, it looks unprofessional.
Write down questions in advance that you have for them. DO NOT ask about pay or benefits or vacation (you can do that later). You can ask things like "what would a typical day in this role look like?" or "how would you describe the company culture?" or whatever. if you've done research, the more specific questions you can ask, the better. "I'd love to hear about the origins of X project, which I was reading about on your website." Nice.
Every question is a chance for you to share a specific story from your work history that paints you in a positive light. If they ask "How would you organize all of our client files?" don't say "in a filing cabinet or hard drive." That's because I know about filing cabinets and hard drives; assume the interview isn't stupid. You can say, "At my previous role, we had a lot of client files and what I did to organize them was ____." I KNOW you don't know how I organize my files, and that's okay because you don't work here yet. What I'm really asking is, "do you understand the ways that not organizing things is bad, and have you had experience with organizing similar stuff in an effective manner? Prove to me I can trust you with my files."
Do not ever speak about yourself or your previous job negatively. If they ask why you're leaving your current job (they shouldn't), be vague and polite. You're "looking for a new challenge," or "my current position has taught me a lot, and while it's really great, my future career goals are much more in line with [something this company or job does]."
If they ask about your experience with something you have zero experience with, like "have you used salesforce" and you're like, bro, no, i worked at wendy's, YOUR ANSWER IS NEVER JUST "NO." You can say something vaguely positive about yourself like "I haven't, but I learn new systems quickly and that's something I'm really looking forward to learning and becoming fluent with in this role" or you can mention something similar, like, "I haven't used salesforce, but my previous role used a different database to manage our client contacts and [some stuff you think is relevant about that and how good at it you are]."
Questions? feel free to ask!
114 notes · View notes
thatsatricky1 · 18 days
Text
𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/n didn’t have a lot going for her, rising student loan debt, a shared dodgy apartment and a shitty bank job that didn’t pay well. Could her life get any more downgraded? Apparently it could, in the form of a group of well known bank robbers deciding the bank she worked at was the perfect and simplest heist they could do for a change.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lee Jeno x Reader
𝐖𝐜: 2k
If there was one thing both Winter and Y/n could agree on it was they did not get paid enough working at the Bank. The fact the two of them had gotten a job there had surprised them up until they’d actually started working there and then they realised just how horrible it was.
Most banks these days had one or two counters for actual human interaction, with more ATM’s littered against the walls for non-human interaction. Which was what people preferred these days.
However the bank Winter and Y/n managed to snag a job from was an old bank, with only one ATM which wasn’t even located in the building but outside it on the wall. Inside however was like going a step back in time where it was lined with ropes heading to five separate counters.
Today like any other day both Winter and Y/n were behind their separate counters helping one customer after the other. Customer service was and will forever be dreadful yet the two women sucked it up, they had student loan debts and rent hanging over their heads like most young people.
Y/n glancing up at the large built in clock against one of the lobby walls noting it was nearly time for break. Though turning her attention back on the ranting old lady she knew it would end up being a while before she’d get to head into the staff room.
“Ma’am like I said before, unfortunately you’ve already taken out your limit for this month.” Y/n repeated her words she’d already explained in much more detail to the elderly lady twenty minutes ago.
She did on one hand feel sorry for the elderly lady since she wasn’t getting much monthly from her retirement money, though that happened a lot more frequently these days and would only get worse as the years progressed. Y/n didn’t even want to think about her own retirement pay later on in life.
But that empathy was slowly draining from her when the elderly woman went from ranting on how unfair it was to blatantly disrespecting and dissing her. The fact she was catching strays from the elderly woman for something not in her control made Y/n want to slam her own head against the wooden counter but instead rolled back her shoulders to keep up proper posture.
After another ten minutes the elderly lady finally left the line to head outside, unsuccessful in getting more money. If it was up to Y/n she’d have shoved money into the woman’s hand and sent her on her way thirty minutes ago, but again, she needed to keep this job.
Y/n glanced over at Winter’s counter, wincing at seeing a guy wearing a business suit waving his arms animatedly. That toupee he was wearing did nothing to hide his obvious receding hairline and hair loss.
The person walking up to Y/n quiet enough she didn’t pay him any attention, too focused on watching Winter dealing with the toupee business man.
Y/n head only turning to face in front when a low voice cleared their throat.
“Oh fuck.” Was all she could mumble out with the sight in front of her. He was wearing a white balaclava with two black spikes on the top, that may or may not have been cat-like. But it was the logo patch ironed on it that caught her attention.
Dream.
A notorious group that surfaced one year ago known for bank robbing. Yes, in this era, day and age that was still happening. Usually unsuccessfully but this group had been doing it perfectly well without getting caught.
The group goes from big bank heists to small ones in different areas all around the place. No proper method, pattern or strategy being linked to them. And they just so happened to decide that this bank was their newest stop.
The person raised an eyebrow at Y/n’s choice of wording and quite tamed reaction most likely from shock. She noted he wore blue-greenish contacts and some of his white bleached fringe was pushed down by the balaclava.
A loud bang sounding out through the room followed by screams. Customers and workers alike going down to the ground. Only then did Y/n connect the dots; it had been a warning shot fired by another guy wearing a similar balaclava.
Her eyes drifted towards the chaos but a click of fingers brought her gaze back to focus on the one in front of her.
He grabbed a piece of paper sliding it through the small gap in the window pane glass separating the counter, a safety precaution the bank had installed years ago.
Her fingers sliding the paper closer to her side unfolding it to see what was written on it.
‘Cash’ That’s all that was written on it.
Refraining from making a face she looked up at the guy before glancing over at the other counters seeing four other people with balaclavas already getting cash from each counter.
Scrunching up the paper, she moved below the desk to grab the pay out box. They had one box at the counters for up front pay, but her attention focused on the button below her desk.
The emergency call button they had installed two years ago. Only being able to afford making one of them which so happened to be her counter for the day. Y/n had been pretty sure a panic button legally had to be installed on every counter in banks but she’d bit her tongue on that one when she’d first gotten to know the bank.
Of course it was her desk that happened to have the panic button, how on earth was she supposed to nonchalantly press it. She wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t even work, their boss cut corners on check ups all the time. She was pretty sure that button hadn’t had any attention on it since the day it was installed.
Grabbing the pay up box she stood up placing it on the counter moving to unlock it ignoring the gaze on her face. Starting to take out the money in stacks.
Hands fumble after the third stack a few falling down, Y/n shooting the guy a sheepish smile moving to bend down slightly one hand grabbing the cash while the other pushed down on the panic button. She could only hope that thing actually worked.
Fully standing as she continued to stack the cash before pushing them through the small hole entrance of the glass panel. The guy moved his hand to swipe the money into a material duffle bag. His gaze drifted up to hers once more.
“That’s all I have in my till, maybe you should have come by an hour earlier before some widow took out a pay out life endurance bill.” Y/n blurted out half because of nerves but also because she never quite knew the appropriate thing to say in serious moments.
The guy's eyes twitched slightly as if amused by her words before he gestured his head to the side, Y/n following it to see her work colleagues behind their counters moving out being led towards the centre of the lobby.
Taking the hint she moved towards the counter’s small hip height door leaving the little safety nook, moving to walk over to the crowded middle area of the lobby.
Not even a second by the others before Winter grabbed her hand tugging her down next to the rest of them.
“Did you?” Winter cryptically asked out her finger making a moving motion which took Y/n a second to understand before she nodded.
Y/n moved her head slightly to look over at two of the masked guys heading towards the back with her manager. In a weird way she was satisfied in seeing her boss look like he was about to shit himself after all the overtime, pay cuts and unfair things he’d done to herself and other workers.
Twenty minutes in, Y/n had noticed the other four masked men had taken turns walking around them, making sure no one left the small circle they’d formed in the middle of the lobby. Occasionally they’d gesture to one or another person to give them something, mainly jewellery, watches, wallets, purses and other valuable items.
The guy from before walking up standing over Winter and Y/n, looking them over as if to see if they had anything worth pocketing. Y/n holding back a comment on how unlikely it was seeing as their stuff was in the staff room.
But she did note his gaze seemed to go over Winter but stayed stuck on her. He gestured with his free hand tapping on his ear. Y/n only staring back before Winter nudged her.
“Your earrings.” Winter whispered in a rush not wanting things to go south.
Y/n shoot her a look since her earrings were just casual short thick metal loops. She’d bought them on a whim at a market years ago for cheap. They weren’t expensive and definitely weren’t valuable.
Though she still moved to take off all four of them, handing them over into the guys waiting palm. He looked down at them, fiddling slightly with them before moving to slip them in his pocket rather than putting them in the bag.
Right then the two guys from before walked back out from the back of the bank with duffle bags slung over their shoulders, the bank's manager nowhere in sight.
With that they all started to get ready to leave until the familiar sound of sirens flooded the air still at a far away distance. The guy nearest scrunching his eyebrows at how that happened, the police station would have been too far away to hear the one warning shot and they’d confiscated all phones right at the start.
Though his eyes drifted towards Y/n, tilting his head recalling when she’d crouched to grab some cash she’d dropped. A muffled laugh leaving his mouth. She’d pressed a panic button. He’d thought for sure along with the rest that this old place wouldn’t have one.
Jeno couldn’t exactly say he was impressed, a lot of the time the panic button got pressed during their bank heists. But he did think this one would be stuck in his head for a while.
Jaemin silently patted his chest to get his attention, nodding his head towards the back gesturing that they were leaving. Slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder he glanced one more time at the two women nearby before they left.
The six of them getting into the van as Renjun who’d been waiting had pulled up at the right time for them, not even giving time for Mark to close the door properly, tires squealing as he drove off.
Jeno leaning back in his seat peeling the balaclava off, chucking it to the side somewhere before shoving his hand into his pocket pulling out four metal chunked earrings. Rolling them around his fingers in thought.
“I’m guessing that’s for your personal collection.” Donghyuck scoffed out unimpressed, his head shoved over the back seat gazing at what was in his friend, Jeno’s hand. He preferred more expensive pieces over bland metal or at least something with a splash of colour.
“I like them.” Jeno hummed out noticing the wear and scratches on them. Gaze moving to the window where the back bank slowly got smaller and smaller.
“We really don’t get paid enough for this shit.” Y/n grumbled watching the police finally enter the building, her shoulders slumping at the fact it was one middle aged man with a very unkempt moustache and a scrawny looking trainee.
“You‘d think the bank robbers would have been doing us a favour if they had at least broke an arm or leg of ours for insurance purposes.” Winter chimed in wincing when the trainee tripped over his own foot.
“New job?” Y/n offered out.
“New job.” Winter confirmed in a more of a sigh.
Tumblr media
Hope y’all liked the preview it was a bit rushed, the actual oneshot is gonna be really really long so prepaid yourself for that lol.
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @bubusebu @hanniehq @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun @bluedbliss @haechansbbg @officiallyjaehyuns @bunnychui
(If you want to be tagged in my Nct Dream writing/works comment, inbox or message me)
Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget likes, reblogs and comments are always encouraged and help keep writers like myself motivated to continue our works.
𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:
⤻ Click here.
78 notes · View notes
jnnul · 1 year
Text
five questions
a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!
word count: 5.1k
tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong
Tumblr media
sorry, is this seat taken?
you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.
he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.
did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.
but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.
what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.
with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.
you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.
"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."
"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."
mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"
you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.
"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.
"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.
you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.
mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.
the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.
"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.
it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.
"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?
"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.
mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.
so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?
can you help me with this one?
turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.
"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.
mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.
which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.
your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.
you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.
besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.
which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.
it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.
for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.
but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.
"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.
you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.
"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.
"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.
"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.
"go on a date with me?"
your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.
"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.
"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.
"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.
"more than you realize, mark."
can i come inside?
the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.
your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.
so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.
"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.
and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.
not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.
mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.
which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.
because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.
so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.
in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.
"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.
"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.
"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.
for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.
"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.
"thanks."
you mean that?
mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.
and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.
and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.
he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.
but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together
it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.
not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.
one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.
mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.
that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.
but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.
one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.
mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.
really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.
"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.
"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."
mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"
"i mean it with my whole heart."
do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?
mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.
when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.
a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.
and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.
"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.
and that was the biggest room.
so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.
well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.
after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.
love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.
unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.
just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.
"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."
"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."
there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.
"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."
"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."
mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.
"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."
mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"
it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.
"i do."
and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.
625 notes · View notes
roosteraloha · 9 months
Text
in sickness
jake seresin x reader
wc - 3k
warnings - talks of poor mental health, not looking after yourself, chronic pain discussions, a lot of angst but also a lot of fluff !!
disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!
a/n - I hope this fic can provide you a bit comfort, whether you experience chronic pain or not!! life is terrible right now and this is my little bit of comfort while I get through this flare up. pls always take care of yourselves <3
comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
Tumblr media
You had been feeling off for a while. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this feeling started, it just did. And it sucked. Usually a bright and hard working individual, you now felt more like a shell of who you used to be - more than you ever had before.
With no family around, this was the year you’d truly be alone for the holiday season. A welcome change to the fake smile you’d plaster on, anything to avoid more for your family to pick you apart for. Anything to avoid being seen as the family failure even more.
Working part time as a barista while you continued your studies at a new campus, began merely as a way to pay rent and pay the remaining tuition, which failed to be covered by your scholarships. Now, your work was a chance to escape both from your family issues and your school work, a chance to just be.
A few months into living in San Diego, you’d developed a much needed routine; classes in the day, serving regulars at the little café, then studying more when you got home.
There was one regular at the café that always made your smile a bit brighter, a real smile, rather than the fake customer service one that you had perfected.
A tall, blonde aviator.
He arrived like clockwork every single day, ordered the same drink and pastry each day, and something you noticed the longer you worked there, only gave his signature wink and drawl of “Thanks darlin’” to you. A fact that gave you a flutter of butterflies each time he walked through the door.
It had taken you a few months to work up the courage to accept his invitation of a date, ironically he insisted on just going for a coffee (or any drink you'd prefer, as he insisted), which then progressed to him regularly joining you at the café on your late shifts. Jake was the absolute definition of a gentleman, opening and holding doors for you, insisting on walking you home, saying “I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you got home safe darlin’”.
It made your heart flutter to have the attention of such a man. You’d imagined that this type of love would only ever exist in cheesy romance books, but Jake exceeded even those standards and expectations.
Having Jake in your life was a blessing. One that you would never take for granted. Even on your bad days.
Tumblr media
It wasn’t that you were intentionally ignoring Jake, it was more the fact that you instinctively knew that as soon as you let him get a proper answer from you, he’d instantly know something was wrong and immediately try and fix it. Something your younger self would crave, but now, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Going from class to class, then to work, picking up extra shifts just to occupy your mind, leaving earlier and earlier, coming home later and later.
It was a good thing you lived alone and hadn’t caved to Jake’s repeated attempts to get you to move in with him, which realistically would be the best idea both for your commute and your relationship, not to mention that you slept over at his place almost daily. However, this flare up of poor moods and anxiety, was clouding your logical view, and you refused each and every plea from your loving boyfriend. You knew he was only looking out for you, but you couldn’t help the irritation that prickled up stronger with each invitation. The insinuation that you couldn’t look after yourself, that you needed someone to take care of you. A snappy comment lodged in your throat, but finding yourself too detached to even voice it.
Living alone provided you with the much needed sanctuary where you could just be. Somewhere you didn’t need to worry about someone seeing just how badly you were suffering on a day to day basis. You knew deep down, that living with Jake would better for you both, but you had particularly stubborn streak that had developed from the constant dismissal of your feeling from your family. Jake, you knew would never be like them, he was far too observant to not notice, and far too caring to let you suffer alone.
It wasn’t until Jake cornered you on your mandatory day off that he finally found the perfect opportunity to get to the bottom of your sudden emotional polarity. He’d cleared the leave with Cyclone, citing a hurried mention of a ‘family emergency’, which to Jake this was, and consequently receiving the next week off without any further explanation.
Knowing your penchant for burying any negative feelings, and faking your way through your days off which aligned with his in the past, Jake followed his normal morning routine. An early wake up call, one which to his growing concern, you were seemingly awake before, a bland breakfast of toast and coffee, then heading to his truck, backing out his truck, then instead of the usual commute to base, Jake parked at the end of the street and waited an hour before heading back.
Jake was greeted by a silent home. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that there was nobody home, but your keys were still by the door, your shoes messily stacked by the coat hooks, everything in the exact place as when he left.
Frowning, he makes his way through the house, scanning every room for any signs that you had moved from your curled position on the bed, the one you hadn’t moved from since you got home the night before.
Tumblr media
There was a small crack in the paint of Jake’s bedroom wall.
A minute crack really.
Just to the right of the bedroom door, creeping up from the baseboards. Barely noticeable to anyone else, but you have been so fixated on it, unable to tear your gaze away from it. A quick lick of paint, even one of those tester rollers that Jake kept in his toolbox would do it. But yet again, you couldn’t find it in you to care.
Huffing at nothing in particular, you blink slowly, your eyes drying out from your blank, unwavering stare, the blood vessels shot around your irises, irritated more with each blink.
Jake slowly pushes the bedroom door open, having paused to watch your empty stare, growing more concerned with each passing minute. On your best days, you weren’t known to be the most bubbly and social person, but still made the effort anyway. Now? Now Jake was halfway to calling in reinforcements, in whatever way he could to try and get through to you, even if you hated him afterwards.
His slow pace to your side was an effort to not startle you, he needn’t have worried, you didn’t even flinch, like you normally did, when he pressed a gentle kiss to your exposed shoulder.
Having come from a very complex family, with a concerning lack of physical contact, you often found yourself flinching away from people, getting overwhelmed when people refused to give you space, getting frustrated with your feelings, unable to communicate your desires and needs for physical interaction, romantic or platonic. It was something that Jake had easily picked up on, quickly learning your tells, learning exactly what you craved, without you having to explicitly say anything at all.
Sighing, Jake decided to take a risk, you have been known to lash out in the past, whenever you haven’t been warned about incoming physical contact. Exhaling slowly, praying to whatever he could, Jake slid his hand gently up your arm, getting you used to his touch before pulling you up into a sitting position, crouching before you, directly in your eye line.
Jake nudged you gently, trying to get a response from you. startling from the movement, your gaze darts from the paint crack to Jake’s hand on your knee. Goosebumps erupt across your arms as you focus on the sensation of his large, warm hand on your skin. Feeling your muscles tense under his hand, he rubs his thumb in soothing circles, trying to placate your instinct to flinch away.
Breath hitching in your throat, you instinctively jolt backwards, away from Jake. He exhales loudly, disappointed and slightly hurt that you still have this reaction to him after all this time. Jake has always been the perfect boyfriend, always there to be supportive, even when you often feel that you don’t deserve it.
Having zoned back into reality, you refuse to make eye contact with Jake, instead keeping him in your periphery as you cautiously shuffle back towards him. Jake raises an eyebrow at the sudden change, it was highly unusual for you to even try and instigate physical proximity, where this would normally be a good thing, today, it added to his growing concern that you were not okay. Far from it.
Jake tried and failed to catch your eye line, eyes darting away from him with each attempt. Deciding on a different approach, Jake knelt from his crouched position, “Darlin’ when was the last time you ate?” A halfhearted shrug was the only response, while an improvement, Jake’s heart ached knowing you needed his help and support desperately, but knew you were too nervous and stubborn to ask on a good day, that today he stood no chance of getting a response from you.
Feeling a wave of confidence, you flicked your eyes over to Jake, scanning his features, taking in his clear concern and worry about you. Heart pounding in your chest, you anxiously clench your hand tightly into a fist a few times, before slowly reaching your hand out to Jake, quickly retracting it as you begin to overthink it.
Brows furrowed, Jake moves to sit beside you, leaving a space between you, softly smiling in encouragement as your eyes follow his movements and then slowly turn your body to face him.
“What do you need from me right now?” His voice quiet, yet steady and comforting. Another weak shrug. Registering the increasing frustration in Jake’s expression, you shakily reach out for his hand, intertwining your fingers and taking in all the calluses and faint scars on his hand, finding the simple contact immediately calming, feeling bold enough to express your want.
A gentle tug on his hand, your hand slowing moving up his arm, then round his waist, climbing slowing and shakily into his lap, curling up his strong embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest. Jake stayed still in disbelief, this was everything he dreamed you’d one day be comfortable to ask for, never mind instigate of your own will. Smiling to himself in pride, he readjusts his position on the edge of his bed, a soothing hand in your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp, something that Jake had noticed eaisly helped you relax. After a few moments your muscles slowly began to relax and eyes growing heavy.
Tumblr media
The rapid succession of sneezes and soft whimpers that Jake woke to in the afternoon, alerted him to the root cause of your recent lack of responsiveness. A soft grumble was followed by you curling back into Jake’s side, nuzzling into his warmth, finding comfort from him wherever you could.
In the entire span of your relationship, Jake can only recall you being sick a handful of times. Perhaps something to do with your insistence of maintaining your personal space Jake has always thought, but you sick was an experience, one that Jake hated. Thinking back over the past few weeks, the warning signs that you were getting sick, were now glaringly obvious and Jake was mentally kicking himself for not paying close enough attention.
Gathering the various medicines from his bathroom, ones that he had previously taken note of that seemed to help ease your symptoms the best. Jake sets the various bottles and packets on the bedside table, picking one at random to try and convince you to take.
Narrowing your bloodshot eyes at Jake, you shake your head vehemently, an action you quickly regret. Clutching at your head in agony, you whimper quietly, shifting back towards Jake, burying your head in the crook of his neck and clinging to him like a lifeline.
Gently coaxing you out from your comfortable position, Jake’s heart broke knowing he’s asking you to do the opposite of everything you’d been working on together. Eyes glassy with unshed tears, you try to cling to the comfort of his embrace, confused as to why Jake was forcing you away from him. Unable to think logically in your pained state, you took this as a rejection, promptly turning away from Jake, putting as much distance between you both as his king sized bed allowed.
A pill is placed firmly in your hand, a chance to take it yourself, one you instantly refused, tossing the pill over your shoulder, hopefully somewhere in Jake’s direction, you couldn’t really find it in you to care.
A startled yelp leaves your lips as you’re manhandled by Jake, your back now resting against his chest, a firm arm across your waist, keeping you close in his hold. You were too weak to fight him anyway, but Jake took the precaution anyway.
He knows you.
Much to your chagrin, another pill is placed in the palm of your hand. Craning your neck to see Jake’s motives, you’re annoyed to see a blank expression, all he does is gesture to the pill in your hand, and look away from you completely.
Having suffered from chronic pain for years, you despise each pill you have to take, from many years of doctors just giving you pill after pill without listening to your concerns. Now you find yourself avoiding doctors, or any medication wherever you can. Jake knew this, it was something discussed early on in your relationship, not wanting him to feel ignored when you inevitably had a flare up and consequently spent the next week or two in bed recovering, which is why you feel so hurt when he keeps insisting on you taking this medication.
When your equally blank stare at Jake goes on too long, he sighs heavily, pulling you back with him as he leans back against the headboard. Feeling the rumble of his low voice behind you had a surprisingly soothing effect, “Darlin’. Please just let me take care of you.”
When that didn’t produce a response, “C’mon darlin’, it’s breaking my heart to see you in so much pain.”
Turning in his hold, cupping his cheek with your hand momentarily, causing him to flinch at how cold you felt, slowly sitting, reaching for the pill and quickly swallowing the bitterness with the glass of water that jake insisted you keep by the bed whenever you’d stay over. Several kisses are pressed across your hairline and forehead, soft mumblings of praise continue as you settle back in his arms.
“I know how much you hate taking them, but you have to in order to get better darlin’.” Scoffing in disapproval, and resentment of your boyfriend yet again being right, results in Jake wrapping his arms even tighter around you, careful of any known sensitive areas, pressing more gentle kisses to the top of your head.
“Before you get too comfortable, we’ve got to get you something to eat. God knows when you last ate a proper meal.”
You swallowed cautiously, “That time you cooked your grandmother’s recipe.”
Silence.
You felt him tense behind you, sitting up straighter, gentle fingers at your chin in an effort for you to look at him.
“Sweetheart… That was almost a week ago.”
Shrugging, you try a nonchalant approach, knowing Jake would not like the answer, “I eat stuff at the café and in between classes when I can. I just don’t have time to cook a full meal anymore Jake.”
Exasperated, Jake pulls you to stand, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, then taking your hand gently and leading downstairs to the kitchen. He busies himself, after seating you on the counter, checking cupboards and the fridge to see what he could pull together for you both. Settling on something basic, he gets to cooking, something he enjoys. Not that Jake liked to openly share this with his fellow aviators, in case of any ribbing and teasing, yet another reason he had been overly cautious as to not introduce you to the group already.
Tumblr media
The delectable scents wafting in your direction results in several rumbles from your stomach, a light blush stains your cheeks when Jake glanced in your direction with a teasing smile. Shrugging playfully in response brings a bright grin to Jake’s face, the one that always has you smiling along with him, because how could you be sad when he looked at you like that, with that much love in his eyes just for you?
One lovingly home cooked meal later, you’re yet again tucked into Jake’s side in his bed, considerably more relaxed than when Jake left in the morning. With the self-reflection that you’d both started to keep your relationship healthy, you knew you weren’t the best at looking after yourself, which only got worse during a flare up or sickness. Jake however, was your constant. A strong caring and protective streak, you would never suffer alone again.
“I missed this. I missed you. Can we stay like this for just a bit longer?” You murmur quietly into his chest, arms tightening around his waist.
“Of course darlin’,” Jake places a soft kiss on the crown of your head.
“You don’t even need to ask.”
While there were some days that you felt so isolated and a burden, those days were notably fewer now that you had Jake in your life.
You just didn’t know that Jake vowed from the day you confessed your struggles that he would always be there to look after you.
In sickness and in health.
Tumblr media
taglist
if you want to be tagged either comment or send me a message and I’ll add you :)
189 notes · View notes