- barista honerva always experimenting with creating new flavours.
- one day zarkon comes into the tiny little cafe because his usual isn’t open, and once he sees her, he forgets all about his usual coffee place and this place becomes his regular because:
- even when he doesn’t need coffee, he’s standing in the shop like an idiot and buying coffee which he doesn’t need.
- eventually honerva notices him and they come to talking terms. she soon makes him try her secret flavours (experiments).
- they are generally disgusting, but zarkon is a gentleman and he finishes them all with no complaint.
- one day, zarkon doesn’t come and honerva finds that weird (he came every single day at the same time without fail even during a storm) and so she closes shop early and goes looking for him.
- the reason she was worried was because she’d actually managed to taste her latest creation (she rarely made enough for two people, and she’d always give it to zarkon) and it was so foul that she thought maybe zarkon had finally had enough of her and her crap drinks and stopped coming.
- oh no, what if she poisoned him?
- and so she stepped out, heading who-knows-where (because she certainly doesn’t), all the while fretting and zarkon, who had actually just been late that day noticed her at some point while he was on his way to the coffee shop.
- she finally made her way back to the shop, defeated and morose, and took her place behind the counter when bam, there was zarkon waiting to place his order, smiling sheepishly.
- he had followed her all the way back to the shop and she hadn’t noticed him at all.
the end (because i like leaving things open ended) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
- end scenario can be anything ranging from more drinks of death for zarkon, a promise of no more drinks of death for zarkon, with either a tearful hug from honerva or an angry outburst claiming that he should’ve told her he’d be late she was SO WORRIED (”but we don’t even have each other’s number, my dear” “I DON’T CARE YOU STILL SHOULD’VE LET ME KNOW”) and that if he did it next time she’d set her cat on him (”no no anything but that please honerva”)
also, @sapphiresoulmate has a neat au where the main roles are reversed, I’ll link it when she wakes up and posts it. it’s really good. I like it loads. you definitely need it in your life.
Keith doesn’t really get Pidge’s nail biting antics, to be honest. They don’t even taste that good. But what he really doesn’t get is Allura and Hunk making such a fuss over it all. Even Lance was being more of an idiot than was typical.
They’re just nails.
And thus he just graces the entire show with a trademark disdainful look from the couch, which no one really notices (because really, who cares about the disdainful look™ from Keith of all people) and so he turns over with a slight huff and goes back to sleep.
Lance finds Pidge’s nail biting amusing, to say the least. Also, watching Allura and Hunk all flustered for such a silly thing makes him crack up even more. While he did understand it was disgusting and he did shudder to think of his own perfectly filed and rounded nails in that short, brittle, horrible condition, he still didn’t think it was that big a deal to throw a fit over.
But one night while he was dozing off under his mud pack, a sickening thought came to mind. A thought which involved curved and sharp bits of nails stuck to intestines and stomach linings and Pidge keeling over because she stabbed herself to death by consuming it all-- oh no.
Which is why now Lance is constantly hovering over Pidge with a worried look and wants to just tie her hands to a pole or something. Never mind the innuendo in that statement, THiS IS MORE IMPORTANT, because Lance can’t have his shortie die on him like that, no quiznaking way would he allow it.
pidge bites her nails so much that it drives even the normally tolerant hunk insane.
so what does he do to show his annoyance?
he flicks spoons, spatulas, anything he can get his hands on at the moment, at her head every time those grubby little fingers come anywhere near her mouth.
pidge bites her nails a lot so allura makes it her life’s mission to make pidge have long nice nails and gives her a real nice manicure, but pidge ruins it within minutes. allura tries to put bitter stuff on her nails, ties bags onto her hands, throw things at pidge each time she brought her nails close to her mouth, everything, to avoid her biting them, but in vain. then when allura finally gives up and flops down beside her, sighing about how she won't be able to draw the green lion on her nails like she wanted to, pidge immediately jumps up and starts following allura around, begging for another chance.
It was the name Coran used for his favourite nephew, just to annoy him, because while he was the youngest of five, he was way too small by Altean standards, much to the poor boy’s chagrin.
So, whenever he saw Pidge fumble around and moan about her shortness, he’d remember the nephew he loved so much and missed. And when she’d turn around and flash that cheeky grin? It made him smile. She made him smile.
While Lance went on and on about his superdupermegaultraawesomesauce cow Kaltenecker to Keith and the rest, who looked more confused than surprised, and Shiro literally wrestling with Slav to avoid accidentally killing him in a fit of rage, Pidge sighed and fell back onto the floor with a thud, her soul threatening to leave her.
Just how could she have been so stupid to have not realised that the ship didn’t have a charging point?
Pidge was in the mood for a huge tantrum. But she sat up and slunk out, planning to hibernate in her room. No one noticed her leave as they were too busy being mesmerised by the new guest in their ship.
Lance was lucky to have gotten over it so soon, grumbled Pidge to herself as she stomped her way back. She was devastated because she had been looking forward to it so damn much.
Suddenly she halted as something came rolling out from one of the rooms ahead of her. She had almost jumped in fright but steeled herself quickly enough. Thankfully no one had seen her, uhh, practice her flexibility. Yeah, let’s go with that.
Curiosity took over her as she inched toward the object to inspect it. Her eyes widened.
It was a jar of peanut butter.
Suddenly, it was as if time had slowed as she bent down and picked it up. She turned it over and looked at it again and blinked.
There was a note stuck to it with a big arrow pointing to the left.
She turned her head sharply to see that the gift from the heavens had in fact rolled out from the kitchen.
Well, of course peanut butter rolled out from kitchens. Where else would--
Wait a minute.
They didn’t have peanut butter in the ship’s kitchen.
And then she saw him.
Hunk sat there with a big smile on his face. She blinked again, dumbfounded at the sight. He gestured to her with two spoons in his hand.
She looked incredulously at him and then at the peanut butter in her hands and back at him. He nodded and motioned her to sit next to him.
She beamed and almost ran in.
Maybe picking up the peanut butter instead of the bottle of oregano wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
summary: where Allura finally manages to get a break from her streak of bad luck. maybe.
read on ao3 | fanfiction.net
note: special thanks to @sapphiresoulmate for le guidance.
Soft music played, the lights had dimmed, the crowd was thinning and Hunk was contentedly wiping his precious wine glasses behind the counter.
It had been a slow day with barely any customers, just the way Hunk liked it, even if it probably hurt his cash register.
It didn’t bother him much though, because in three, two, one--
Ah, there she was.
Hunk looked away from his watch to see a leggy lass with the most unbecoming scowl on her otherwise pretty face trooped into the bar with a dark cloud on her head, contrasting her fluffy light hair.
She plopped herself onto one of the bar stools and gave Hunk a dark look as if daring him to speak.
And speak he did.
“Number 74?” he asked nonchalantly, like he was asking her about the weather.
“Number 74,” affirmed Allura, slumping on to the bar counter with a moan. She poked a narrowed eye from her arms and titled her head, showing the deep frown which had been hidden.
“I wish you’d stop keeping count, you know.” She turned her head back into the nest she had created, blocking Hunk from sight once again.
Hunk chuckled and set down the last glass. He spread his arms over the counter and fixed a sly gaze at Allura.
But he said nothing and just passed along a mug of beer. The usual. Her usual. How Hunk wished she would try a strawberry daiquiri or a lemon martini for once. But no, Allura was the most obstinate person he’d ever met. The maximum he’d managed to make her experiment with was whiskey. And there too, she’d stick to neat and occasionally on the rocks.
She was so not a bartender’s delight.
Allura got up and with her chin still resting on the counter, she stared at it.
“Why are all men such morons?” She let out a sigh as she remembered the disastrous date from earlier. Her eyes followed the tiny bubbles in her mug. Hunk smiled at her and rolled his eyes.
“Well maybe you aren’t looking in the right places,” he said, before bending down to reach for a wiping cloth.
“Well maybe if you had more sales, you’d have more customers and I’d find someone already,” Allura said dryly. She unstuck her cheek from the counter and grasped the cold mug.
“Hey! Don’t diss the bar!” Hunk said heatedly. How could she! Such blasphemy.
“Well, your place is a bit pathetic, no offense, Hunk,” Allura muttered, finally taking a swig of her beer. Hunk huffed at that and started wiping the counter vigourously, half in an attempt to shake off the sacrilegious comment and half to calm himself down.
“Full offense taken. So you’re saying it’s my fault?” Hunk asked in an annoyed tone as he tossed the cloth back under.
“Yep. Considering you get most of your sales through me, it’s a wonder that your bar is still up and running,” said Allura snidely, not looking at Hunk, the dark cloud hanging above her head ever-growing.
Hunk closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He pinched his forehead and sighed exasperatedly.
“With the way you talk, no one would believe you’re an heiress. This is why all your dates get ruined.” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips.
“Well better that than them clinging onto me for that fact,” Allura said, without missing a beat.
And with that silence enveloped them once again. Just like it used to before. Hunk did not continue because he knew why Allura was being so testy.
It made him angry, but it secretly relieved him too. Why? He wasn’t too sure of that himself. Meanwhile, Allura emptied her beer and slammed the mug back on to the counter.
“Ugh. Maybe I’m doomed to be an old maid.” Allura moaned, slumping back into her “nest” position. Hunk rolled his eyes at her antics.
“Nonsense,” he said briskly, collecting her beer mug. “You’re just way too good for those losers, that’s all.”
“You think so?” she looked up at him, blue eyes shining with undisguised hope in them. Hunk cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Yeah. Er, I mean, fix your attitude and that’ll go a long way, you know.” He continued wiping the counter to combat the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Gee, thanks for being such a great help,” Allura said snarkily, turning away from him again. Hunk smirked suddenly and set down the now clean mug in his hands.
“What. You can’t do it?” he said slyly. He leaned low onto the counter with both arms supporting his frame as he casually glanced directly into that flabbergasted face of hers.
Allura steeled herself. She slammed her palm hard on the counter.
“Fine. You. Me. Tomorrow night, 8 o’ clock. Vrepit Sal’s.” And with that, Hunk’s jaw slackened as she punctuated each word with a jab at his chest.
“Hey! Wait a minu--” But his spluttering got interrupted as Allura stood up and craned over the counter to fix Hunk with an even more determined stare, their faces just millimetres away from touching.
“What. You scared?” It was Allura’s turn to smirk at the incredulous look on his face. Yes, he had definitely been caught off guard with that. After a couple of moments, which seemed like hours, Hunk coughed and straightened up.
“Fine, since you’re so, er, desperate, just to prove I’m right, I’ll go.” Hunk folded his arms and looked away in mild embarrassment.
She smiled brightly, disregarding the unnecessary parts in his answer, grabbed her bag and patted down her dress.
“Great! I’ll see you then~!” And she sauntered away, making it all the way to the door before turning back.
Hunk smiled. And Allura smiled back. And with the soft chime of the door, she was gone.
Hunk turned back to find more glasses to wipe.
She riled him up with her less-than-perfect attitude and her jibes and her quips. She guzzled beer in the most unappealing way and simply refused to try nicer things more befitting her class, as she called it. She shouted and she moaned about her endless blind dates and she insulted The Bar, albeit jokingly (or so he hoped).
But even so, at the end of the day, something always managed to draw him to her unfailingly. Just like the first time.
And it was vice versa too. Because why else would she end up there all the time? That woman took the meaning of regular to a whole new level.
... Wait. She hadn’t paid him. Again. Quiznak. At this rate, the bar would definitely be shut down.
Hunk chuckled in spite of himself, as he poured himself some whiskey.
It may have been a slow day, but nevertheless, a good one. Even more so than usual.
And so, the seventy-fifth time was definitely a charm.
