#i just wanted to talk about coffee

[homerforsure]

Buck brings Abby coffee one day. She tries it and wrinkles her nose a little bit but tries to cover by saying “mmm, thank you.” Buck notices the nose wrinkle anyway so he confirms, “yeah?” “Yeah, it’s great! Just what I needed.” Abby doesn’t drink any more of it and leaves it sitting on the counter when they leave.

Buck needles Eddie until he finally tells Buck what coffee he wants when Buck goes on the coffee run. Buck orders it how Eddie asks. Mostly. But he also notices that Eddie favors the caramel creamer from the station fridge and helps himself to an extra large spoonful when he makes a sundae at home for Christopher and when Buck takes a chance and buys him the caramel special that the coffee shop puts on their menu in the fall Eddie closes his eyes when he drinks it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Every once in a while Buck brings Eddie the caramel latte but neither of them ever mentions it.

Buck brings Taylor coffee one day. She makes a face and laughs about that not being her order. Buck is more bothered by it than he should be but he laughs and says something about trying again. Taylor kisses him and tells him he’s sweet and tells him that she can get her own coffee.

Buck brings Tommy coffee one day. He makes his best guess based on previous experience but when Tommy makes a face when he tastes it, it doesn’t feel mean. His laugh is warm and easy and comforting. He writes down his usual order on a napkin so that Buck can get it right next time.

[mamawasatesttube]

i just think lois lane should put tim drake in her purse like a little dog. a scrunkly little companion who's even better at picking locks than she is, which is saying something. a nosy little freak after her own heart. the rubber duck she uses when talking her thoughts out loud to put clues together. her coffee gofer. her purse ferret.

[calamitoustide]

james potter as a line cook who blasts songs like Yeah! by USHER in the kitchen at 10 am every single morning and regulus as a server who's just trying to get through his shifts without crying in the walk in

[hattiestgal]

Date Night

When the sun sets on Little Pocket, the creatures of the night (Riley and Violette) go on the prowl (dinner date)…

[athina-blaine]

I think the reason your labru fics managed to keep me hooked when i normally don't like a lot of fan content about them is that it's reciprocal. Laios and Kabru both look out for each other and take care of each other, when normally a lot of content for them is focused on Kabru being there foe Laios without much focus on the reverse. I love, love, love Nourish especially, with Laios not really understanding what Kabru's talking about but trying to engage and pay attention anyway, making him a tasty meal so he'll sit down and let himself unwind, and just showing how he cares about people

Thank you so much! You can assume whenever I'm writing from Laios' POV at any given moment I'm beating back the urge to spoil Kabru rotten. I want to give him a wardrobe of full of nice clothes. I want to make him dinner. I want to find him falling asleep at his desk and carry him back to bed. If there are 0 Kabru simps, I'm dead. The threat of complete and utter derailment looms large with every fic I write and I must tread carefully 😤

It doesn't surprise me that a lot of labru stuff focuses more on how Kabru supports Laios than the other way around, since that's how it largely manifests in the series. Laios, being the main character, has a lot of plates he's spinning in the air, but Kabru is uniquely focused on Laios and how Laios relates to his own goals. I'd be curious to count up the panels that has Kabru referring to Laios, both verbally or mentally, and compare it to other characters outside the main party, because I think the results would be quite funny haha

But while there is a disparity, the scenes where Laios reciprocates this support, in my opinion, are arc-defining. Laios, with zero prompting, realizes Kabru would be hungry after his resurrection and makes him something to eat with his own party's supplies. It's Kabru's aversion to monster cuisine that factors into his emotional bid to Marcille, in that you can't make a perfect menu that looks the same for everyone. And, crucially, Laios promises to share a meal with Kabru that doesn't include monsters. For the entire series, Kabru wanted to know whether Laios could be interested in people as much as he was interested in monsters, if he could prioritize people over monsters, and this is where he gets his answer. This is what convinces him to put his trust in Laios enough to help him escape from the Canaries and to let him try and talk down Marcille. Because Laios demonstrated he was capable of taking people's i.e. Kabru's wants and needs into consideration, even if it had nothing to do with monsters.

Labru appeals to me because of everything they have to offer each other, yes, but mostly because of everything Laios has to offer Kabru. Here you have this character who is routinely seen to have a suppressed appetite, who makes himself smaller in order to be more appealing to the people around him, who makes space for and services everybody but himself, and here you have this other character walk right up to him and say, "You look hungry. Let me make you something to eat."

[cali]

darkraiiiiii

[breezere]

boba date doodleeeee

extra:

the reference

[hijinxinprogress]

Coffee addict Never sleeps Tim drake ❌ 

Solving cases in his sleep off 87 energy drinks Tim Drake ✅

The coffee addict never sleeps perpetually tired Tim Drake thing is a widely accepted headcanon however that was elementary school tim but after he stayed up for a week straight subsisting entirely on coffee to decipher the bat weekly patrol schedule and how it aligns with rogue attacks/Arkham breakouts, he crashed then when he woke up it was fucking wednesday so he missed his chance to commemorate his discovery with pictures of Robin and he decided that shit would never happen again and made himself an ‘efficient’ sleep schedule so he could run around doing fuck shit, add to his robin shrine, and stay on honor roll bc he was even more pissed to see the gotham gazette had pictures of Robin with an on site interview credited to Vicki Vale (listen bowl cut tim had a one sided beef with vicki vale that included tim judging who gets better pics of the bats but she isn’t even aware that she’s competing with a whole ass child 😭 he’s sitting at the table with a mug of orange juice and looks at the newspaper snorts and goes ‘fucking amateur I could do better’) 

Regularly unsupervised tiny businessman in training Tim ‘Ten hours of uninterrupted sleep?? That’s so inefficient not to mention fucking stupid’ Drake is so pissed he missed getting shots of Robin dropkicking a rogue from 6 six stories up (for absolutely no reason dick just thinks it’s fun) that he just takes at least 3 hour naps every eight hours 😭 he refuses to spend almost half a day sleeping ‘for no reason when he could be doing something productive’ 

And he still does this as a bat but it’s just easier to tell if he didn’t take his nap bc he has less than zero impulse control and he’s just fucking done with everything like the gcpd is terrified bc tim’s saying shit like ‘This guys a fucking moron, I could’ve done this in half the time without killing anyone fucking loser doesn’t he know if you keep them alive you can prolong the torture?’ and ‘you’re like all hysterical and for what 🤨 ‘you blew up 83% of Bristol waah’ stfu and fucking rebuild it?? It’s only rich mfs that live there, it’s just a matter of them opening their fucking wallets’ once a new recruit made the mistake of asking if robin had adult supervision regularly and Tim responded with ‘well if you’re gonna snitch to cps like a little bitch then yeah’ and that cop did snitch so tim fucking doxxed him

Yj has just accepted that sometimes they will find tim in an air vent, on the roof, in one of their closets, or something just fucking knocked out then an alarm will go off and he’ll just get up like nothing happened but for the first couple of months they were probably concerned bc ‘I’ve never seen you sleep?? wtf are you on man’ and Tim’s confused bc ‘I slept next to you this morning wdym??’ and that’s how yj discovers tim sleeps with his eyes open

But one of the worst things about Tim’s ‘time efficient sleep schedule’ nonsense is that it fucking works he’s one of the most well rested and coherent bats even after back to back Arkham breakouts however the absolute worst thing about his sleep schedule is the likelihood of going into the cave and seeing tim staring in a daze but wide eyed yet somehow never blinking at the batcomputer with 57 tabs open on top of being unresponsive and thinking he has a fucking concussion or he’s been replaced but he’s just doing case work while muttering nonsense in his fucking sleep for some reason

[transmechanicus]

Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[utilitycaster]

I'm still thinking about that post about how female characters and especially wlw and f/f ships are treated in fandoms because I got a reply that I deleted on my post about how all the Nein were big shippers on deck for Beau and Yasha that boiled down to "haha Caleb making a tower so the useless lesbians would admit they liked each other!" and it's like. He made the tower to Beau's orders. She had already asked out Yasha, who in turn had of her own volition written Beau a phenomenal, beautiful letter instead of a poem as recommended by Jester. This is factually incorrect and obnoxiously dismissive of a genuinely great dynamic and attributes all agency to a man. When you say shit like this you sound like you are Chat GPT. No new thoughts no time actually spent analyzing a relationship dynamic just "ooh i see a woman in fiction what is the phrase most associated with this ok done onto the next task".

[dykeofmisfortune]

the thing about having a radical butchformation (like transformation but. butch.) is that people are starting to perceive me as a trans man and someone at the coffee shop i go to told me that they respect the LGBT but that boys trying to be girls and girls trying to be boys is too far and then she added that i'll always be a girl no matter what. like thanks? but also kill yourself

[moeblob]

I'm sorry for the OC brain rot on main....

(the lines are from a post about "tag yourself: awkward/unflirty Sims edition" and honestly? all my OCs are awkward/unflirty so ... yeah...)

[blastdamage]

like... i personally have friends whose loved ones are in ukraine. ive seen firsthand how the war in ukraine has traumatized and terrified them despite being safe here in so-called canada. they can't sleep at night because they are worried sick about the people they love. they are a shell of their former selves. the invasion of ukraine isn't some abstract thing for you to use as a rhetorical device, it isn't a fucking team sport, it isn't a joke for you to own the libs with or whatever, it's a real thing that affects real human lives. i have a profound disgust for people who speak of the war which such callous disregard.

[wexhappyxfew]

And then “Look at you! You're spilling coffee.” For Brady and Annie >:)

HI POET!!!!!!! thank you so much for sending in a prompt + incredibly sorry it is so SO late for a response!! my summer has been so incredibly busy and i've only just gotten to this now, so i truly hope you enjoy!!! <3 annie and brady are an absolute joy to write and i always love getting to play around in the areas of time we get to see them in - so this is in the early days of getting to know each other and - you guessed it - it involves coffee haha! THANK YOU AGAIN!!! (also hi and hello i am back after an absolutely chaotic af week)!!!!!! <3333

porcelain, silk and starch

(a/n): ANNIE X BRADY GIRLIES THIS IS FOR YOUUUU!!!! getting back into some 'early days' sorta stuff for these two that i felt were needed for their connection. just those early moments of first meetings and interactions that i wanted to work with a bit! and ofc a cameo from co-pilot francis who is my fav of favs fr! a queen in true form!!! i hope you all (and poet most of all - this was a great prompt THANK YOU) enjoy!!! :D

“Silver Bullets should’ve been put into mass production the day she made the run over Caen,” Francis said, pulling her cigarette from her lip and patting the edge of the wing, the early dawn rays of the sun tickling the edges of the metal, “flies like a fucking angel, I tell ya, Bradshaw.”

Annie looked up at the large berth of wingspan for the B-17 and smiled a bit; it was evident how much Francis cared about the plane, like it was this thing they were caring for day by day, somehow watching it grow. It seemed Francis was coming around - they were actually on a name-to-name basis rather than incredibly formal 'Lieutenant Bradshaw' and 'Lieutenant Montez' callings. It was actually kind of nice. Annie knew Francis still held her bearings about everything, but she was more receptive and open-minded than she had been a few days back.

“So, how’d you get wrapped up in all this?” Francis said turning to Annie, a slightly darkened look in her eyes, “Some stupid bet, couldn’t handle a joke from a sick fucko back home? I’ll do you one better, an old boyfriend who thinks he’s God’s greatest gift-“

"Joined the WAC," Annie said, rather unceremoniously - not like her mother had been pleased, so Annie was just used to the lackluster of it all because of that fact (no one had been excited for such a thing, for someone like her, from where she was from), "started ferrying planes - fuel reloads, supply drops. Seems they liked me in the higher ups. Now I'm here." Francis watched her for a moment, smoke lingering up from the butt of her cigarette. With their uniforms on, they both actually looked half-decent - no pilot gear and uniform looking mangled from a mission, no sweat, burnt pieces of hair, frozen eyebrows and bloodied cheeks. Just like normal people for once.

“You know, I like that for you,” Francis said, “I had some guy tell me I could never pilot a plane. Showed him up.” Annie smirked from behind her aviators at Francis - quite the character, she could hold her own and had no problem telling it how it was. Yeah, Annie was already sold, even if Francis wasn't sold on her.

“So. The WAC. Do tell.” Francis said, pointing at her.

“Well, I did translating for a good period of time before I was wrapped up in flying. Gotta say if the opportunity had been presented, I would've stuck with it.”

“Whatcha translating?”

“German, French…tried to get a handle on Russian. Still trying my best with that.”

“Damn, Bradshaw,” Francis said before pointing a finger at her, “what the hell did that have to do with flying?”

“They said we couldn’t do it.” Annie offered back, crossing her arms and shrugging, "That sorta stuff you listen to, even if you don't want to. And then you do, even if they think you can't."

"Birdie really would've loved you." Francis said, the first real genuine smile growing on her face as she crossed her arms, "Wanna see inside?"

Climbing up into the belly of the plane, the lingering silence hit her like bricks, the feeling inside the fort. What had happened here. What they all knew had happened her; what the women of Silver Bullets had experienced. What had Montez said to let them know their pilot was dead? That she had to take control of the plane and the body was in the front seat? What mind-fuck had they gone through to wrap their minds around that fact?

"Pretty isn't it?" Francis said from behind her, briefly patting the edge of one of the seats as they both moved towards the cockpit.

"She's beautiful." Annie said, adjusting herself in the left side of the cockpit, running her hands along the buttons and the wheel and the edges of the window, "Really, it's a beautiful plane."

Glancing back at Francis, she noticed the woman far-off it seemed, eyes glazed, staring somewhere out to the hazy horizon. Annie slowly brought her focus forward again - Birdie had died here. Right where Annie was sat. It was a wonder Francis could even walk up here again - Annie gave her a lot of credit.

"Well," Francis started, blowing breath from her lips, a quick smile darting onto her lips, "we'll have plenty of time to admire this bucket of bolts in the coming days, for now…we oughta get ourselves to the dining hall. Breakfast. Ain't they say it's the most important meal of the day?"

Francis' voiced trailed off somewhere between her talking about breakfast and saying how she thought the most important meal of the day was actually dessert. Annie stood there for a moment, in the middle of the plane, lingering in the stillness, the plane that had launched that crew up into the sky and came back down without a pilot. Who still stood tall and strong, right here, right now.

Annie tried to clear her mind. She hopped out of the plane, landing beside Francis, rather gracefully, and looked up at the co-pilot in the morning sun, who was grinning like a goose at her.

"How many missions you been on?" Annie asked Francis, genuinely curious. She was trying to connect the dots from the incident to now. Had they been up in the plane after what had happened? With a new replacement that hadn't made the cut? How many had Birdie been on?

"Only two." Francis said with a slightly constrained look, before seeming to shrug it off as they made way towards the dining hall, "They wouldn't allow us to go with any of the replacements until we did a practice run or two. As you can see, those didn't go too well." Annie glanced at Francis and evidently saw the stress running rampage through her. It was evident in her face, in the way she spoke - she wanted something to work, she wanted to get in the sky again, she needed something to go right for the first time.

"If I get the position. Officially, that is," Annie started, looking up at Francis, "I intend to keep Silver Bullets as one of the best B-17s in the air. With the crew we've got, the co-pilot," Francis smiled, "I don't doubt that. Birdie had the crew for a reason." Francis watched her, a bit of sentimental air wafting through them as Francis reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"You're a good one, Bradshaw," Francis said and Annie quirked out a smile, "c'mon."

Entering the dining hall - Annie realized quickly it was only for officers and high-ranking officials when she saw the likes of Major Cleven and Major Egan at a table together, huddled over some coffee alongside Kidd, Crank and DeMarco.

"Here we go." Francis said, leading Annie towards the center strip of table, covered in a white tablecloth, filled with all sorts of baskets of goods, utensils, coffee and mugs, "Usually, you can just get it served to you. But. Figured you'd want to see the spread, huh?" Annie's eyes widened at the assortment of things as Francis gently gave her shoulder a tap.

"I'll get us a table, get your fill, I'll get the food." Francis said before walking off, giving a wave to a few, fellow officers down a few rows of tables, bee-lining towards the food line.

Annie stood quietly for a moment, her eyes running over the length of the table in slight amusement and wonder. Growing up, she never had the sort of luxury as much as simple things like sugar or cream - even in coffee. Coffee was usually black, and a little watered down (it saved them from having to buy so many coffee grounds, you know?), and usually it was bitter. But you washed it down because it was what you had.

Now - there was sugar, cream, honey, biscuits for dipping, actual cloth napkins, a little spoon just for stirring! Gently, she touched the white tablecloth, the soft texture something so delicate and foreign to her in ways someone shouldn't have to think of.

Tablecloths were rough, scratchy and torn where she came from.

Here - they were soft, cream and stitched.

Annie retracted her hand and instead focused on the coffee.

Coffee.

Sometimes all she wanted day in and day out was coffee.

Reaching forward, she picked up a mug and cradled it in her hands - it was still warm, like it had just been freshly cleaned, straight from the hot water.

Annie had remembered feeling out of place before - plenty of times had she done things in her life where being the odd one out was normal for her. But now - even with just beautiful tablecloths and hot coffee mugs - she felt like being the odd one out was something she had to address. Right now.

Glancing around, officers and officials at the tables weren't looking at her (of course, they wouldn't be, why would they, this is normal for them), but for her, being in a place like this? With things like this? Annie set the mug down and then looked at the pot of steaming coffee. She debated. Did she need the cup of coffee?

"Hey," a voice said from somewhere to her left, causing her to turn away from the coffee pot and towards the voice, finding Lieutenant John Brady there, a smile on his face, as he slowly removed his crusher cap, "Bradshaw, right? New pilot for Silver Bullets?" A smile popped onto Annie's face as she suddenly took in that it was that pilot - from a day or two back - John Brady.

A part of her had been wondering when she'd see him again or even just around. He'd been nice, hospitable, and had a funny sense of humor she could get behind. People like that you wanted in your back pocket. Even if all she knew was his name and that he had a nice face.

"Yes. Annie Bradshaw." she said, unable to help her ever-present mannerisms and held out her hand (as if they hadn't met a few days ago and they'd all but tag-teamed Major Egan), "….uh, Brady?" He grinned - she knew it was him too, she couldn't forget a face like that, but she wanted to test the waters. Give a bit of it back.

"Brady. John Brady." he said, reaching forward to shake her hand, smile growing on his own face, "How's it been going? Hopefully Egan wasn't bearing too hard after your introduction a few days ago." Annie laughed - almost a bit nervously and awkwardly - trying to make impressions was something she was never great with, but things usually weighed in her favor at the end of the day.

"No, no, it was fine, really," Annie said, as she slowly dropped his hand, a slight tinge of warmth pooled in her stomach at the thought of his hand again - and the fact that was the second time she had even touched his hand, "Major Egan is definitely quite the character."

"That he is." Brady said with a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets, nodding to her aviators in her front pocket, "Busy day?"

"Francis' showed me Silver Bullets," Annie said with a nod and a smile, "she's a beautiful plane." Brady smiled at her and then glanced over Annie's shoulder at Francis, before readjusting his eyes on her.

"That crew's really glad you're here," Brady said, face falling slightly, "after what happened…." Annie nodded to fill in the gapping hole of words.

"I'm giving them my all. After everything." Annie said quietly and Brady nodded, watching her, something in his lingering gaze a comfort in a way she would never make out, "Well, don't let me be in your way-"

"No, no not at all," Brady said quickly with a nod, "coffee drinker?"

"Yeah," she said, reaching up to run her hand along her hot collar a bit - almost like she couldn't get her mind in gear properly, "never did have much of any of these sorts of fixings back home, so….to say the least, I'm pretty stoked to try it out." She looked back to Brady who was watching her with a quiet look on his face, a soft grin riding his cheeks as he reached forward and took his own mug.

"You said you were from Mankato? Minnesota?" he asked her as she reached forward and picked up the pot of coffee and began pouring.

"Yeah," she said, turning to look at him as she poured, "didn't have a whole lot, but…it was home." There was a twinge of pain to that word. Home. Her mind blanked for a moment, before she was hearing a voice in her ear and her hand was burning.

"Look at you! You're spilling coffee. Here, here-" Annie blinked and turned her eyes and found Brady slowly removing the coffee pot from her grasp, the mug overflowing with hot coffee there on the starch table clothes, stained with dark puddles of drying liquid, her heart pounding. She watched frozen as Brady grabbed some napkins to dab at it, before looking to her gaze again.

"You okay there?" he asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Didn't mean to batter you with questions, I swear my folks just raised me like that, questions and all-

""No." Annie said quickly, shaking her head and looking at her hand stained with hot coffee and gave a nervous smile, cheeks turning a bit pink, "I got….distracted. About home and this place. It's…it's all good. Sorry. About the coffee. And now the damn table cloths." Brady chuckled and took his hand off her shoulder and grabbed the empty mug and poured the coffee to a reasonable amount before handing it to her.

"Don't you worry, Little Birdie," he said with a smile, "it's a big place here. Lots to look at, get distracted by. Being so far from home anyway, that is. I'll let the cooks know-"

"Little Birdie?" she said, interrupting his train of thought. Brady grinned.

"You're a lot like Birdie. Captain Faulkner. You remind me of her, ya know? So - Little Birdie." he said with a smile, "Much better than Egan calling you No Name, too." Annie let out a laugh and nodded.

"Yeah, way better." she said and Brady smiled. For a moment, they stared at each other before Annie cleared her throat and looked at the coffee cup and back up at him.

"I'll be-"

"Your hand okay-" The two looked at each other before letting out a few nervous laughs.

"You first." Annie said, "Rank does its duties."

"We're both Lieutenants, Bradshaw."

"You're 1st. I'm 2nd." she said with a smile, "So?" Brady smirked, before the corner of his eyes and lips softened.

"Your hand okay? The coffee was pretty hot." he said softly and she nodded.

"Fine." she said, "Had cuts and bruises worse than this. Climbed trees as a kid." Brady watched her, brow peaked in interest. She smirked. "Also fell out of a lot of trees, too, so….all good." Brady let out a chuckle at her words, watching expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"And yes…..I was just going to be going. Don't want to hold you up." she said and then looked up at him. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, of course," Brady said, "probably flying club, right?" Annie raised a brow.

"Flying club?" She really was quite clueless on more than she thought.

"Drinks, dancing, music - get the tension out of your shoulders sorta thing." he said, another grin growing, "So, I'll probably see ya tonight?"

"Right." Annie said with a smile, holding the mug close to her, forgetting about cream or sugar, "Sounds good to me. I'll see you around. Thanks. Sorry again." And with that, she was turning away, slightly mortified at her clear inability to pour coffee efficiently. She hurried towards Francis at a table with their food, slamming her body and the mug of coffee down, meeting Francis' slightly annoyed gaze at the rough presence announced.

"You okay?" Francis asked her, eyeing the coffee and Annie's face again, "You look a little flustered. Hey, you drink black coffee?" Annie looked between the coffee and Francis and then sighed again.

"I meant to grab…." Annie looked over her shoulder and watched as Brady poured some cream into his own coffee cup - the one she had previously overflowed, to her own mortifying realization - and was now wandering away with, sipping it ever so gently, settling into a spot beside DeMarco. A pair of fingers snapped in front of her face and she turned quickly to look at Francis.

"Grab what? The LT's attention or a donut?" Francis said, before chuckling at Annie's slightly flustered expression and chuckled, "I'm just kidding you, c'mon, let's eat up. I think we're doing a practice run, just us girls - maybe with Just-A-Snappin', too." Francis bit into a piece of toast, "Harding wants to see us in the air. 'Longside another crew."

"Alright." Annie said with a nod, "We can make that happen." Francis smiled.

"Good," Francis said, "now, eat up. Don't need my pilot going hungry in the cockpit. Might have to feed you some of Margie's crushed up peanuts she's always carrying around-"

"Oh God." Annie murmured, "Bessie warned me….briefly…"

"Yeah, they're a goddamn curse on that thing, but she swears on it. Superstitious that one is." Annie chuckled at Francis' words and they continued to eat and discuss their day. Annie couldn't help but think of it all though - porcelain, silk and starch.

Everything and all things.

When you came from nothing, things like that were practically gold.

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment