#cashwrap

[book-tease]

begging people to tell me they want a gift receipt before they are paying bc at that point you are just getting a regular receipt

[shatteredfears-arch]

anyways lbr most of goth/am is aware that bruceyboo is batsy the first kid he adopts bc bats also suddenly has a kid but, i also love the idea that those who dont know, are under the impression that bruce knows who bats is bc theyre bitter ex lovers and that the media plays that shit up after social media goes off and the only ppl who see that happening are his kids bc he only uses his phone for detectiveing and calling lina SO

[evan-collins90]

'Explore More Store' at the Pacific Science Center - Seattle, WA (date unknown, likely early-mid 1990s)

Great example of the 90's theming craze in interior design, along with the Utopian Scholastic style, and popularity of 'edutainment'

Designed by Smash Design

"Remodeling this 1,700-square-foot gift and educational resource store was challenging due to its mezzanine level location. The new store was approached as an extension of the center's exhibits with each zone representing a different subject. Standing guard at the center of the store is a "Look-Out Tower" cashwrap overlooking a 30-foot-long shelved wall. A reproduction of a pre-Aztec temple encloses an office while remaining the store's dominant figure."

Scanned from the book, Great Store Design 2 (1996)

[prettyboyfucks]

work would be so much more fun with a sweet little toy behind the cashwrap with me. just barely hidden out of the way, lips around my tcock, teasing and sucking softly while i check people out. every now and then when i can, i reach down and stroke their hair and tell them how good they’re being for me. then during my break, i pull them up and drag them back with me to fuck their face.

[vidavalor]

Jim's Bedroom

I'm really still not over the dollhouse bed in "Jim's Bedroom"-- a bed and a room that seem to exist basically for the possibility that the higher up angels ever show up and demand an embassy tour. Especially Sandalphon and ones like him.

In tone, Aziraphale would be like yes and here's my fake, human-like bedroom, which I never really use, of course, because I'm an angel-- why would I ever need it? It's mainly in case some human has a fainting spell in the shop and needs to lie down. Must be practical and look normal to the humans to maintain my bookselling human cover, of course!

Speaking of human-sized people, this bed is rather tiny, don't you all think? SO VERY TINY! Even beds back in the day weren't all this tiny! Doesn't even fit a human-sized adult human-shaped being! If I sneezed, I'd fall out of it, haha! It definitely couldn't fit, say, a red-headed demon who is six feet something of legs! He's even too long for this thing in snake form-- I mean, I imagine! For sure, it definitely could not fit *both* of us-- why would you even think such a thing?!

No time for lovers, me-- and *never* a demon, that's absurd! Especially that wily one! I live to thwart him, as you can see! Just out here, doing the good work of spreading the ineffable lunacy of The Lord! There is definitely not a room in this shop-- like, say, the one next door at the more convenient spot of the top of the stairs-- that is *actually* my bedroom and which contains a bed that very comfortably fits two adult-sized human-shaped supernatural entities-- why would you even ask?!

Right, down we go, kindly make a right around the back side of the bookshelves that hide the theatrical curtains and practice space for my secret human magic hobby... oh, that room in the back?

That's one of our gigantic storage closets of a room where Crowley and I have been stockpiling furniture and other material objects we like for years out of hope that one day we might have our own home that isn't a bookshop hiding an embassy hiding a house... our little pipe dream, never you mind... and, now we're back at the front door! Kindly hopefully continue to not realize that I designed this place so that you can't see Crowley's couch or our dining table from the entry space in front of the cashwrap threshold and have a heavenly day!

Humorous aspects to this aside? Jim's Bedroom is psychologically really interesting...

With all of Aziraphale's Heavenly angst, it's easy to wonder if he doesn't actually use the room sometimes, either in past nights alone or in that time between Crowley leaving and the sun coming up.

Style-wise, it's extremely unlikely that the oak wall unit against the wall on the left was ever first Aziraphale's; it more than likely was in Crowley's flat at one point. It doesn't go at all with the cherry mahogany bureau pushed up in front of it, which either of them could have owned. The bureau is positioned to block the part of the oak wall unit where a tv would go and just keep open the bookshelves, which is also how Aziraphale is using the shelf space on the wall between the oak unit and the desk. While Aziraphale watches tv, this room isn't built for that kind of cozy lounging, so there's no need for that side of the tv cabinet-- but he always has need for more book storage so that he's using the space for that makes the room feel a little more thought-through and lived-in than it might otherwise. Yet, at the same time? None of this matches the way the downstairs does and it's all just sort of clumped together, indicating he also doesn't value it as much as other spaces in the bookshop.

Since Aziraphale wears the same outer outfit everyday, he needs a bureau more than he needs a closet-- though there is a little closet to the right of the bed. Probably keeps some shirts in there. There's the reddish reading chair and lamp by the window that Crowley moves to when he and Gabriel talk about Gabriel's memory. They are probably used more than the bed. The bed is also small enough that the blanket over it could be used like a throw in the chair without a lot of fuss.

It kind of feels like maybe, on nights when on his own or after Crowley leaves sometime before dawn, Aziraphale might find his real bedroom hard to be in alone and, if feeling a bit angsty, will come into this room to use the fake bedroom as his real bedroom for awhile. I'm not sure that Jim could have made the cluttered mess on the desk that we see in so short a time and the room being painted Crowley's Eyes Yellow and the bed blanket being red and like the pattern of his desk chair downstairs makes it kind of seem that Aziraphale wanted to feel wrapped up in some Crowley in the space to make it more comforting to him, since "Jim's Bedroom"-- part of the shop that Aziraphale himself designed-- represents a lot of conflict for him.

Is Aziraphale coming into this room a lot in the time before dawn when it's dark enough that Crowley has left but not yet light enough that he can pretend it's morning? When it's too hard to stay in his real bed because it feels too big when Crowley's gone and is just a reminder of what Aziraphale tells himself is his failure to come up with anything better than the bookshop compromise for a way for them to be safe and together? Is the dollhouse bed also a subconscious form of self-punishment in a way? How much time does he spend in here in the pre-dawn hours, telling himself he'll get in some reading time or update his journal or take a little nap in the bed, only to feel more anxious by the minute in there and relieved when it becomes light enough that he feels he can don his daytime house sweater, make his morning tea, and start his day?

[bokettochild]

Legend: I will employ Spell: Karen!

The chain: What?

Legend: *mustering all the White Woman energy he can* I am going to be as loud as possible and get everyone's attention to shame people into doing what I want

Four: If it stops me going to prison, go for it

Legend: *as loud as physically possible* WHAT THE HYLIA DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY PreCIOuS bABY!!!!!!!

Warriors: Ah yes, this again. Joy. Great job Wind

Wind: I owe you big time, don't I?

Warriors: *dead on the inside* You better bet your butt, mister.

(For those curious (probably not) this is directly relevant to the Violet sequel that hit me like a bus while working cashwrap today)

[nephrastar]

Oceangate employee: *drops mangled remains of the wet Logitech controller at the GameStop cashwrap* How much can I get for this?

[smaller-comfort]

Woof!! Time for asks from the latest ask game!

★ what was the scene you most wanted to write in Hotel California (Retrowave Cover)? what was the hardest scene to write?

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it —> Work/Life Balance with Ninja and Shopkeeper?

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line —> A Light Exists in Spring!

★ what was the scene you most wanted to write in Hotel California (Retrowave Cover)? what was the hardest scene to write?

Oooh, it's really hard to choose- and some of those scenes look very different now than when I first posted them, so that kind of makes it even harder. On the silly side, probably the scene where the blue robes are playing D&D- given Prophet's backstory as a lost LARPer, it felt like it was something I needed to write. On the serious side, Shopkeeper's reveal at the end had me kind of frothing at the mouth to get to, but Ninja's breakdown after the sex scene was also something I was really excited about.

Hardest scene was actually the one with Arty where he talks about being Cael and the others. That's one that I did rewrite to make it more canon compliant, but even before that it fought me a lot.

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

uh. I guess I'll find out soon, provided I get my butt in gear and finish my sanguinalia assignment. But I'm honestly not sure! I don't *think* my writing has any particularly obvious stylistic tells, but I know there are a bunch of words and phrases that I tend to overuse (especially in porn 😓).

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it —> Work/Life Balance with Ninja and Shopkeeper?

omg ahahaha what a great idea. I think I'd have to start from a completely different premise- I haven't really thought too hard about where the Messenger characters fit into my modern AU. Shopkeeper is almost certainly even worse than Aephorul about separating her work and personal life...

So it would probably go like this: Shopkeeper is working late at the Shop, because that's what she tends to do; Ninja visits her at work- probably bringing her dinner or a snack or something. Maybe he offers to give her a backrub while she's stuck behind the register; maybe Shopkeeper flips the 'back in 15 minutes' sign on the door and they get up to some nonsense in the stockroom. Or she just shoves him under the cashwrap and he goes down on her while customers come in. >_>

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line —> A Light Exists in Spring

It's impossible for me to pick a favorite from that one! I still really love all of it. This bit is pretty high up there, though, even if it is a little bit grim:

Beneath the melody of Resh'an's magic is another song, equally familiar. This, too, is something they share; the things Aephorul has done cannot be undone to either of them.

There's a lot of backstory between B'st and Aephorul that I want to explore in later stories; for all that I like to write B'st and Resh'an being very soft with each other, the entire parting series is really bittersweet at best.

[acelessthan3]

Stop me if I've told this one before.

So growing up my mom taught my younger brother and I the ASL alphabet. Not as like a language acquisition thing (the whole teaching your baby asl before they can speak didn't really become a Thing until we were both already well into our teens), and not as like a literacy thing, though I think having to spell things out regularly probably helped with that. No, my mom taught my brother and I how to read fingerspelling so she could tell us to shut up in public without having to raise her voice. Which is brilliant because she could spell anything and having to stop and spell and then interpret what's being spelled would probably be enough to stop us from running around or looking at all the cashwrap candy.

[book-tease]

was so convinced my pad was full while doing cashwrap but i stuck through it bc people kept coming, only to take my 15 and realize that it wasn’t full and i had waddled there for nothing

[callmebliss]

If you are feeling Not Great about where you are physically, developmentally, financially, dentally

Please know that I have started doing DoorDash deliveries as of yesterday

I am over forty, I am at the heaviest weight of my life, I have embarked upon this endeavor to make money to pay for the braces I absolutely need if I want to keep having teeth at all (which I do, I need them for chewingggggggg) and I went to pick up an order at Panera

I spent more time there than I wanted to because, despite the strident instructions in the app to collect the order from the clearly marked shelves, the orders were being just kinda posted up by the cashwrap

So eventually I acquired the order, and went to put it in my car

As I did, a dude I had seen in the store came up to me at my car, two Charged Beverages in his hands, and said, “excuse me?”

“…hi yes?”

“I just want to know if it is okay if I tell you, you are so beautiful?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Oh thank you! Have a nice weekend.”

And he went trucking off with his beverages across the parking lot.

And my fat, financially weak, dentally compromised ass climbed into my car to deliver someone their soup and felt, uh, okay about it all. It was actually quite sweet and I wish that person all good things.

[shatteredfears-arch]

i just spent way too long looking at my acheudle to figur eout where tf i was

[inghrafn]

When I described the following events on a forum devoted to true-life close calls, some stern soul opined that my tale couldn't possibly be true. But it is.

In my early/mid-twenties, I lived in a rented room in an urban-sprawl zone with decent public transit. I took the bus to work six days a week, the seventh into town to bum around.

One day, a young man sat across the bus aisle drawing in a sketchbook. As an artist myself, I thought his work was really good and said so. We struck up a friendly conversation about art on the ride into town. He said he'd come from another state to attend the nearby art college. For my part, I'd moved there only recently and immediately started working 50-hour weeks; as a result I hadn't really had time to make friends. He seemed really pleased to hear this. I didn't really question it at the time; I just thought we were equally at sea in a strange place.

In town, we walked and talked our way through my errands. Everything seemed fine until we stopped into the record store. They had only one copy left of a new tape I wanted. To my surprise, he grabbed it out of my hand, announcing, I'll buy it for you!

No, I'll buy it for myself, I told him, but he refused to hand it over and actually bolted to the cashwrap with it as if this was a game of tag. Afterward he presented the tape to me with a flourish: For you!

I felt deeply uneasy about this gesture. At that time I was solitary by choice and wasn't looking for romance. Conversation was strained on the bus ride back. When he jumped off at my bus stop instead of staying onboard to continue on to campus, things got really uncomfortable. He said he couldn't let me walk home by myself. WTF? I used to live in the city and knew how to take care of myself. When we reached my house, the conversation went like this:

Me: Well, it was nice to meet you. Goodbye.

Him: Invite me in.

Me: What?... No, man, we just met.

Him: (still smiling, but more commanding) Invite me in.

Me: No. I hardly even know you.

Him: Sure you do! We spent all day together!

Me: One day's not enough for you to just... walk into my house.

Him: But I bought you that tape.

I held firm, but the exchange left me uneasy with the thought that he now knew where I lived. However, this became a moot point when I moved to another neighborhood on the opposite end of the bus route.

Still, he knew where I worked and began to drop in for short, impromptu visits. With a sales counter between us, I felt safer, and things seemed to return to normal. We could still talk about art, but I carefully avoided personal subjects.

One day he came in extremely excited. Inspired by group activities at school, he'd decided that we should partner up for an art project! A friend of his had written a script and wanted to turn it into a graphic novel; all he needed were artists. We could use the common space at the college to work on our collaboration. He had it all planned out, but I needed to think about it. I suggested we convene at a local coffee shop sometime later that week and gave him my phone number.

Soon afterward he called me in what I can only described as a heightened, almost manic state. His friend wanted to meet me that night. They would pick me up that evening in his friend's car. I needed to give him my address right away.

Me: But you're both here in town. I can just meet you for coffee.

Him: No, no, no, we have to go to my friend's house.

Me: Well, where does he live?

Him: (suddenly cagey) I don't know.

Me: You don't know?! He's your friend; you must know where he lives. Ballpark it.

Him: (vague) A few towns over. Forty-five minutes or so.

Me: But it's already really late, and I have to work in the morning. Your friend would have to drive me all the way back.

Him: (absolute, dead silence lasting just a few seconds too long)

At that moment, I felt suddenly, inexplicably, profoundly afraid. I understood without doubt that I must never get into any car with him and his friend, ever.

Me: (trying to sound casual): Look, it's late. It's been a long day, and honestly, I don't want to go back out. Why don't we plan to meet at the coffee shop later this week--

Him: (suddenly shouting into the receiver) NO! THIS HAS TO HAPPEN TONIGHT! YOU HAVE TO COME! YOU HAVE TO!

Me: No, I don't!

Him: YES, YOU FUCKING DO! YOU PROMISED!

Me: You can't talk to me that way. You know what? I don't want to do a project with you, now or ever. Don't call me again.

It's hard to pin down why or how, but the point in this conversation when he fell silent produced in me an ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that whatever plan he and his friend had for me, it did not involve me returning home. And I believe that if I had not listened to that sense of certainty, I would not be sitting here and typing this today.

So there's that.

[enthesea]

this coworker is seriously pissing me off she has 0 concept of personal space and everytime i try to get around her in our cashwrap she does. Not Move. At All