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Requested? ✅️
NSFW? ❎️
Requested by: Anon
Art by: Applestruda
ANYPOV: Mate trynna make a title for this without it being so long is impossible. (,:
AN: in other words Team Bits & Villies cafe au
The kitchen was hot enough to make the air itself feel thick.
Gem had been aware of it for the better part of the last three hours, although that awareness had long since transformed into the dull, background irritation of somebody who had accepted that this was simply what her life was going to be today. The ovens radiated heat in steady, suffocating waves. The industrial mixer had been running so frequently that its deep mechanical hum seemed permanently lodged somewhere behind her eyes. Flour had worked its way into everything: onto the countertops, onto the floor, beneath her fingernails, along the sleeves of her shirt.. and Gem had reached that particular stage of exhaustion where she no longer cared enough to brush it away.
Her deer ears twitched sharply at another burst of noise from the front of the café.
The sound carried even through the kitchen doors. Cutlery clattering against plates. The scrape of chairs. Voices layered over one another in the bright, chaotic murmur of too many people packed into too small a space. Somebody laughed loudly enough that Gem could hear it over the mixer. Somebody else apparently dropped something, judging by the crash that followed.
Gem slowly looked towards the kitchen door, then towards the enormous stack of baked goods waiting to be decorated.
Then towards Bdubs.
Bdubs was standing in front of approximately forty-seven cupcakes with a piping bag clenched in one hand like he had been personally betrayed by it. “I hate frosting.”
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The café had its own rhythm, and every person working inside it seemed to have been shaped around a different part of that rhythm. Gem belonged to the kitchen, to the heat and flour and sugar, to the constant metallic clatter of trays being moved and bowls being scraped clean. Pearl belonged to the floor, moving between tables with the alertness of a wolf who noticed everything before anyone else had realised there was something to notice. Bdubs belonged somewhere between the ovens and a nervous breakdown, perpetually complaining about whatever task had been assigned to him while somehow doing it better than almost anyone else. Tango belonged to the heat, almost as though the kitchen had been built specifically to accommodate the unnatural warmth of his Nether heritage. Impulse moved through the café with quiet efficiency, his phantom instincts making him almost unnervingly aware of the space around him. Skizz was the human warmth at the centre of the front-of-house chaos, enthusiastic, friendly and almost impossible to discourage. And Grian belonged behind the counter, where coffee machines hissed, tills chimed and the smell of espresso clung to everything.
Gem / Gemini Tay:
Gem was perhaps the easiest to underestimate.
Her deer heritage gave her a softness that could make people assume she was gentle in every possible sense of the word. Her ears were expressive things, betraying irritation long before her voice did. They perked when she was interested, flattened when something annoyed her, and flicked backwards whenever she was concentrating hard enough that she didn't want to be disturbed. But there was nothing fragile about her. Gem possessed the kind of stubbornness that did not need to announce itself. It simply existed, rooted deeply beneath her skin.
In the kitchen, that stubbornness became competence.
She could move through the cramped workspace without seeming to think about where anything was. Her hands knew where the flour was stored, where the sugar had been placed, which mixing bowl had been cleaned and which one was still waiting beside the sink. She could reach for a tray without looking. She could judge whether bread needed another few minutes in the oven from the smell alone. She could glance at a cake and know whether the frosting needed more time to set.
Gem worked with an almost quiet intensity.
She wasn't silent. Far from it. But her talking tended to blend naturally with whatever she was doing. She might be measuring ingredients while explaining something to Tango, stirring batter while arguing with Bdubs, or arranging pastries while listening to somebody complain about the front of house. She had an easy laugh and a sharp sense of humour, and when she teased somebody she did it with enough affection that it was difficult to take genuine offence.
But Gem was also the person most likely to notice when somebody was struggling.
If Bdubs had been working too long, she noticed.
If Tango had become too absorbed in a task and forgotten to eat, she noticed.
If the kitchen became too hot, she noticed.
And she would complain about it while fixing the problem.
“Sit down.”
“I don't need to.”
“Bdubs.”
“I am perfectly fine.”
“You're leaning against the counter.”
“That's strategic.”
Gem would stare at him until he finally sat down.
That was Gem's personality in its simplest form: warmth backed by steel.
Bdubs:
Bdubs was different.
Bdubs was human, and somehow that made his personality feel louder rather than quieter. He possessed no supernatural ears, wings, tails or unnatural abilities to betray his emotions. He didn't need them. His entire body seemed capable of broadcasting exactly what he was feeling.
His expressions did most of the work.
His eyebrows shot upwards when he was offended. His nose wrinkled when something irritated him. His entire face crumpled whenever somebody assigned him a task he didn't want to do.
And he complained.
Constantly.
Not necessarily because he genuinely hated the work, either. Complaining was simply part of how Bdubs interacted with the world. If Gem asked him to frost cupcakes, he complained. If Tango asked him to move a tray, he complained. If the oven needed cleaning, he complained. If everything went perfectly smoothly, he would probably find something to complain about anyway.
“Why do I have to do this?”
“Because you're standing next to it.”
“That isn't a reason.”
“It is literally the reason.”
“I don't like that reason.”
“You don't like any reason.”
“Correct.”
And yet, despite all of the complaining, Bdubs worked.
He was meticulous when he cared about something. He could complain about decorating cupcakes for ten straight minutes and then produce frosting so perfectly arranged that Gem would have to stop herself from complimenting him too enthusiastically because she knew he would become unbearable.
Bdubs also possessed a dramatic streak that made even minor inconveniences feel like personal tragedies.
A broken piping bag wasn't a broken piping bag.
It was betrayal.
A missing ingredient wasn't an inconvenience.
It was a catastrophe.
A slightly uneven cake wasn't imperfect.
It was an insult to his entire career.
He was expressive, affectionate, easily irritated and endlessly theatrical.
And beneath all of it was a deeply caring person.
He noticed things too.
He simply pretended he didn't.
If Gem looked tired, Bdubs would complain about having to do extra work before quietly taking over part of her task.
If Tango burned himself, Bdubs would immediately appear with something cold for him while insisting he was only doing it because “someone has to stop you from setting the kitchen on fire.”
His affection often arrived disguised as irritation.
Tango understood that better than most.
Tango Tek:
Tango's Nether heritage made him uniquely suited to the kitchen.
The heat didn't bother him.
If anything, it seemed to settle around him naturally.
Where Gem sometimes wiped sweat from her forehead after standing beside the ovens too long, Tango could stand directly in front of the open oven without even blinking. Heat shimmered faintly around him. His body seemed to hold warmth as naturally as a furnace held fire, and his Nether traits gave him an otherworldly presence that contrasted amusingly with how normal his behaviour could be.
Tango was playful.
He enjoyed provoking Bdubs.
Not cruelly.
Never cruelly.
He simply enjoyed finding the exact point where Bdubs would start complaining.
If Bdubs said, “I hate frosting,” Tango would calmly slide another cupcake towards him.
If Bdubs complained that his hand hurt, Tango would say, “Good thing you've got another one.”
If Bdubs threatened to quit, Tango would nod and say, “Okay.”
Which inevitably made Bdubs even angrier.
Tango's humour was often dry and understated. He didn't need to make a grand performance out of a joke. Sometimes all it took was one look, one raised eyebrow, or one perfectly timed sentence.
He was also intensely focused when he worked.
The contrast could be almost ridiculous.
One moment Tango might be teasing Bdubs relentlessly.
The next, he would be completely absorbed in decorating a cake, his hands moving with precise control while his expression became quiet and concentrated.
His Nether nature gave him a natural affinity with heat and fire, but his personality was considerably softer than the intimidating appearance might initially suggest. Tango was affectionate through action. He showed up. He helped. He stayed late. He fixed things without being asked.
And if somebody made fun of him for caring too much, he would probably make fun of them right back.
The front of house had an entirely different energy.
Pearl:
Pearl was the first thing customers noticed when they entered.
Not because she demanded attention.
Because she moved with confidence.
Her wolf hybrid nature gave her an alertness that was difficult to switch off. Her ears were constantly moving, catching sounds from different parts of the café. A dropped spoon. A chair scraping against the floor. Someone calling from the counter. A customer asking for assistance.
Pearl heard it all.
She could be carrying three plates and still turn her head when somebody called her name.
Her tail moved with her mood, sometimes swishing lazily behind her when she was relaxed, sometimes becoming rigid when she was annoyed.
And Pearl could be intimidating.
Not intentionally.
She simply possessed a directness that made it difficult for her to pretend something was fine when it wasn't.
A table wasn't clean?
She cleaned it.
A chair was crooked?
She fixed it.
Someone had left rubbish behind?
She picked it up.
A customer was being rude?
Pearl's smile became extremely polite.
The kind of polite that made Impulse immediately realise somebody had better intervene.
Pearl was energetic, capable and fiercely independent. She hated standing still when something needed doing. If the café was quiet, she found something to organise. If there was nothing to organise, she found something to clean.
Impulse had learned that attempting to stop her was pointless.
“Pearl, sit down.”
“I am sitting down.”
“You're standing.”
“I'm emotionally sitting.”
“That doesn't count.”
“It does to me.”
Impulse would sigh.
Pearl would grin.
Then continue working.
Impulse:
Impulse himself possessed a quieter kind of energy.
As a phantom hybrid, he carried an almost eerie grace when he moved. His wings could remain tucked close behind him while he worked, but when he needed to reach something or move quickly through the café, they shifted with him instinctively.
He was observant.
Very observant.
Impulse noticed patterns.
He knew which tables had already been cleaned. He knew which customers were waiting. He knew when the kitchen was falling behind before Gem had to say anything. He knew when Pearl was becoming overwhelmed and when Skizz was getting distracted.
His personality was steady.
Where Pearl reacted quickly, Impulse thought quickly.
Where Skizz rushed in with enthusiasm, Impulse brought structure.
He could be sarcastic, especially when tired, but there was usually affection beneath it.
He was the person most likely to stand in the middle of the café, look around at absolute chaos and calmly say, “Okay. What needs doing first?”
And somehow, everyone listened.
Skizz:
Skizz was the opposite kind of organiser.
Skizz didn't create order.
He created momentum.
As a human, he had none of the supernatural advantages the others possessed. He couldn't hear conversations from across the room like Pearl could. He didn't have wings like Impulse. He couldn't tolerate kitchen heat like Tango.
But Skizz didn't need any of that.
He was enthusiasm given human form.
He could enter the café at eight in the morning with a grin on his face and enough energy to make everyone else question whether they had accidentally slept for twelve hours instead of six.
“Morning!”
“Too loud.”
“Morning!”
“Still too loud.”
“GOOD MORNING!”
“Skizz.”
“Sorry.”
He would whisper for approximately five seconds before forgetting again.
Skizz loved people.
That was the simplest way to describe him.
He remembered customers.
He remembered regular orders.
He complimented people.
He encouraged everyone.
If Bdubs complained about his cupcakes, Skizz would immediately say they looked fantastic.
If Gem looked exhausted, Skizz would tell her she was doing great.
If Tango finished a complicated cake, Skizz would admire it as though he'd witnessed a masterpiece.
He brought warmth into the café.
Even when things were chaotic, even when customers were demanding, even when everyone was tired, Skizz somehow managed to find something to smile about.
Grian:
And then there was Grian.
Grian belonged behind the counter.
He had claimed it.
Nobody knew when.
Nobody knew how.
But somehow, the space behind the espresso machine had become Grian's territory.
As a parrot hybrid, Grian was naturally expressive. His wings betrayed irritation before his words did, feathers fluffing whenever someone annoyed him. His head tilted when he was curious. His attention could shift with startling speed whenever something caught his interest.
And Grian was easily distracted.
Very easily.
He could be making a coffee, notice something happening across the café, turn his head, become fascinated by it, and completely forget that he was holding the milk pitcher.
Yet when he actually focused, he was exceptionally good at what he did.
His coffees were consistent.
His drinks were carefully made.
He remembered everyone's orders.
He knew exactly how much sugar Gem liked.
He knew Pearl's usual drink.
He knew Impulse's.
He knew Skizz's.
He knew Tango's.
And he absolutely knew Bdubs'.
Bdubs' drink was practically a ritual.
Mint hot chocolate.
Three espresso shots.
Every time.
Grian insisted it was necessary.
Everyone else insisted it was excessive.
Bdubs insisted he hated it.
He drank every drop.
Grian was lazy in a very particular way.
He wasn't incapable.
He was selective.
If something genuinely needed doing, he could become incredibly efficient. He could clean the entire counter quickly, organise the till, restock the fridge and prepare the machine before anyone else had even finished opening their station.
Then, once everything was done, he would sit down.
Usually with his DS.
Usually playing Zelda.
Usually pretending that he wasn't slacking.
“Grian.”
“Mm?”
“You're supposed to be working.”
“I already did.”
“You're playing games.”
“After working.”
“You're still technically at work.”
“I'm on break.”
“You've been on break for twenty minutes.”
“That's unfortunate.”
His personality was a mixture of cleverness, laziness, mischief and affection.
He liked teasing people.
He liked pushing boundaries.
He liked pretending he didn't care.
But Grian cared deeply.
He simply didn't always express it in obvious ways.
His coworkers' drinks waiting for them when they arrived were one example.
A perfectly cleaned workstation was another.
Remembering everyone's orders was another.
He showed affection through little acts of consideration, then acted as though it was completely insignificant.
Together/ Everyone:
Together, the seven of them created a strange but surprisingly functional ecosystem.
Gem was the steady heart of the kitchen.
Bdubs was the complaining perfectionist.
Tango was the mischievous, heat-resistant counterbalance.
Pearl was the alert wolf keeping the floor under control.
Impulse was the calm phantom quietly holding everything together.
Skizz was the human spark who kept everyone smiling.
And Grian was the parrot behind the counter, pretending he was doing the least amount of work possible while somehow making sure everything was already taken care of.
They were different.
Almost absurdly different.
But the café worked because of those differences.
Gem knew when Bdubs needed help.
Bdubs knew when Tango needed someone to argue with.
Tango knew exactly how to make Bdubs laugh.
Pearl kept everyone moving.
Impulse kept Pearl from trying to do everything herself.
Skizz kept the atmosphere warm.
And Grian kept everyone caffeinated.
It wasn't graceful.
It wasn't quiet.
It wasn't particularly organised.
But it was theirs.
And somehow, every morning, between the smell of fresh bread and espresso, the clatter of dishes and the soft rustle of wings, tails and feathers moving through the café, they made it work.
The kitchen was hot enough to make the air itself feel thick.
Gem had been aware of it for the better part of the last three hours, although that awareness had long since transformed into the dull, background irritation of somebody who had accepted that this was simply what her life was going to be today. The ovens radiated heat in steady, suffocating waves. The industrial mixer had been running so frequently that its deep mechanical hum seemed permanently lodged somewhere behind her eyes. Flour had worked its way into everything: onto the countertops, onto the floor, beneath her fingernails, along the sleeves of her shirt.. and Gem had reached that particular stage of exhaustion where she no longer cared enough to brush it away.
Her deer ears twitched sharply at another burst of noise from the front of the café.
The sound carried even through the kitchen doors. Cutlery clattering against plates. The scrape of chairs. Voices layered over one another in the bright, chaotic murmur of too many people packed into too small a space. Somebody laughed loudly enough that Gem could hear it over the mixer. Somebody else apparently dropped something, judging by the crash that followed.
Gem slowly looked towards the kitchen door, then towards the enormous stack of baked goods waiting to be decorated.
Then towards Bdubs.
Bdubs was standing in front of approximately forty-seven cupcakes with a piping bag clenched in one hand like he had been personally betrayed by it. “I hate frosting.”
Gem blinked.
Tango, standing beside him, didn't look up from the cupcake he was currently decorating. “You've said that.”
Bdubs' face twisted. “I hate it,” he repeated, more forcefully, as if Tango simply hadn't understood the depth of the problem the first time. “I hate the texture. I hate the piping bags. I hate how my hand hurts. I hate how it always looks stupid.”
He squeezed the bag and a thick, deeply uneven spiral of frosting erupted onto the cupcake. Bdubs stared at it. The cupcake stared back. Tango continued making his own perfect little circle of icing beside him.
Gem looked between them.
Bdubs slowly turned his head towards Tango. “How.”
Tango didn't answer immediately. His clawed fingers moved with practiced precision, rotating the cupcake while the other hand squeezed the piping bag. He made another smooth spiral, building it upwards until the frosting sat in a neat, cheerful peak. “There,”
Bdubs narrowed his eyes. “That doesn't answer my question.”
Tango picked up another cupcake. “I have better hands.”
Bdubs looked at Tango's hands. Then at his own. Then back at Tango. “You have claws.”
“Yeah.”
“That should make this harder.”
“It doesn't.”
“That doesn't make any sense!”
Tango shrugged, completely unconcerned, and continued frosting. The faint heat that naturally radiated from him made the already overheated kitchen even warmer whenever Gem stood too close. His Nether heritage was impossible to miss in a place like this; the subtle glow beneath his skin, the strange warmth that seemed to cling to him, the pointed shape of his ears and the way his tail occasionally flicked behind him whenever he became focused. Right now, however, Tango appeared almost offensively relaxed.
Cupcake. Frosting: Perfect spiral. Next cupcake. Frosting: Perfect spiral.
Bdubs made a deeply wounded sound as Gem finally snorted.
Bdubs whipped around. “Oh, don't you start.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You laughed.”
“Barely.”
“You're both enjoying this.”
Tango didn't even glance up. “Immensely.” Gem's ears perked despite herself as she grinned.
Bdubs stared at them. “You know what?” He put the piping bag down. “No. I quit.”
“No, you don't.”
“Yes, I do.”
Gem immediately reached out and slid the piping bag back towards him before he could actually walk away.
Bdubs stared down at it.
Gem smiled sweetly. “Frost.”
His eyes widened. “Gem.”
“Bdubs.”
“I baked these.”
“And?”
“I mixed the batter.”
“And?”
“I put them in the oven.”
“And now,” Gem said, leaning against the counter, “you're going to frost them.”
Bdubs looked genuinely offended. “You're horrible.”
“I know.”
He stared at her for several seconds before making a disgusted noise and grabbing the piping bag again. Tango's shoulders shook as Bdubs pointed the bag at him. “Don't laugh at me!”
“I didn't.”
“You're doing that thing with your shoulders!”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you're laughing!”
Tango finally looked up, eyes bright with amusement. “Prove it.”
Bdubs opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Gem laughed properly this time as Bdubs' head snapped towards her. “Oh, you're both dead to me.”
The kitchen door suddenly slammed open making all three of them jumped. Pearl stood in the doorway, her wolf ears flattened back and her eyes wide with barely contained frustration.
“WHERE ARE THE BLUEBERRY SCONES?”
Gem immediately pointed. “Cooling rack.”
Pearl's head whipped in that direction. “Which one?”
“The one by the—”
Pearl was already moving. She darted across the kitchen with the frantic speed of somebody whose entire life depended upon locating six specific baked goods within the next ten seconds. Her claws clicked briefly against the floor before she grabbed the tray.
“Thank you!” And then she was gone again, the kitchen door slammed behind her and there was silence.
Bdubs blinked. “What was that?”
Gem's ears twitched. “Busy.”
“That didn't look busy.” Tango placed another cupcake onto the finished tray. “That looked like a natural disaster.”
Almost on cue, the door burst open again.
Impulse came through this time, although he didn't so much enter the kitchen as appear to stagger through it. His phantom wings were partially folded against his back, feathers visibly ruffled from squeezing between tables and customers. His hair was a mess. There was a smear of something pale across one sleeve.
He looked at all three bakers. “Who made the chocolate brownies?”
Gem raised a hand. “Me.”
“More.”
Gem stared at him. “More?”
“More.”
“Impulse, I made two trays.”
“We're nearly out.”
Gem slowly looked towards the oven, then at the stack of ingredients, then back at Impulse. “Are you joking?”
Impulse's expression suggested that he wished he was. “I have a table of six who ordered them. Another table of four just asked if we have any left. Skizz is taking orders faster than the tickets are printing and Pearl is threatening somebody because they asked her if the blueberry scones were vegan.”
Gem's eyebrows rose. “Threatening?”
Impulse paused. “...Verbally.”
The door opened again.
Skizz appeared behind Impulse. “THEY'RE NOT VEGAN!”
“I KNOW!” Pearl shouted from somewhere beyond the kitchen.
Skizz turned his head. “I'M TELLING GEM!”
“WHY?”
“I DON'T KNOW!”
Impulse closed his eyes.
Gem stared.
Tango continued frosting.
Bdubs slowly turned to look at him. “How are you calm?”
Tango shrugged. “I'm making cupcakes.”
The printer suddenly started shrieking as every head in the kitchen turned towards it. A fresh ticket curled out. Then another. Then another.
Gem's ears flattened.
Bdubs whispered, “Oh no.”
Impulse walked over, grabbed the newest tickets and read them as his face fell. “Gem.”
“What?”
“Six more brownie orders.”
Gem slapped both hands onto the counter. “No.”
Impulse blinked. “No?”
“No!”
“But—”
“No! I'm one person!”
Tango finally looked up. “You're a deer.”
Gem turned slowly. “What?”
“I mean you're—”
“Tango.”
“—not literally just one person.”
Gem stared at him.
Tango's expression went blank.
Bdubs immediately looked away, pressing his lips together.
Impulse pinched the bridge of his nose.
From outside, Skizz shouted, “IS EVERYTHING OKAY IN THERE?”
“No!” Gem yelled.
“Okay!”
Gem threw her hands into the air then immediately turned and marched towards the ingredients. “Fine! Fine. More brownies.”
Impulse visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Go away.”
“Yep.” The door slammed behind him.
Bdubs watched Gem begin aggressively measuring ingredients. “She looks angry.”
“She is angry.”
“Should we help?”
Tango looked at the mountain of cupcakes. Then at Bdubs. “No.”
Bdubs gasped.
Across the café, the situation was somehow worse.
Pearl was moving between tables with the tense, focused gait of somebody navigating a battlefield. Her wolf tail flicked sharply behind her every time another customer called for her. She carried three plates balanced carefully along one arm, another tucked against her side, and somehow still managed to reach out and snatch an empty glass from a nearby table without breaking stride.
“Blueberry scones,” she announced, placing them down.
The customer opened their mouth.
Pearl pointed at the plate. “They're not vegan.” The customer slowly closed their mouth.
Pearl nodded. “Good.”
She spun away as Impulse nearly collided with her. Pearl stopped short. Impulse stopped short and for one brief second, they simply stared at each other.
“Table twelve wants water,” Impulse said.
“Skizz said he'd do it.”
“Skizz is trapped at table seven.”
Pearl looked over.
Skizz was indeed trapped.
He stood beside the table with an empty coffee pot in one hand while an elderly customer enthusiastically talked at him. Skizz smiled politely, nodding along, although his eyes had the distant expression of somebody desperately searching for an escape route.
Pearl turned back. “Fine.”
Impulse immediately stepped aside. “Thank you.”
Pearl shoved the three empty glasses into his hands.
Impulse blinked. “Why am I holding these?”
“You're going towards the kitchen.”
“No, I'm not.”
Pearl was already walking away, Impulse looked at the glasses. Then at her retreating back. “Pearl!”
She ignored him.
Impulse sighed and turned around and nearly walked directly into Grian.
Grian stood behind the counter. He had one elbow resting against the espresso machine, his DS held comfortably in both hands, completely absorbed in the tiny screen. The cheerful, recognisable music from The Legend of Zelda played from the speakers. His parrot feathers were slightly puffed around his shoulders, wings hanging comfortably behind him, and his bright eyes remained entirely focused on his game.
Impulse stared.
Grian pressed another button.
“Grian.”
“Mm?”
“There are customers waiting.”
“Yep.”
“You're the cashier.”
“Yep.”
“You're supposed to be taking their orders.”
Grian finally glanced up. There were four people standing directly in front of him. They stared back. Grian looked down at his DS. “Tragic.”
Impulse's jaw dropped. “Grian!”
“What?”
“Take their orders!”
Grian sighed the sigh of somebody being asked to perform unimaginable labour. He saved his game. Slowly. Painfully slowly.
Impulse's eye twitched.
Grian finally shut the DS and tucked it beneath the counter. “Welcome to the café,” he said cheerfully with a smile that didn't at all meet his eyes.
Impulse stared at him.
Grian smiled at the customers. “What can I get you?”
Impulse walked away before he did something that would get him fired.
Grian took the orders with surprising efficiency when he actually decided to work. His hands moved across the till, his wings shifting behind him as he leaned down to grab cups. He made coffee with the effortless familiarity of somebody who had done it often enough to perform half the process without looking.
The moment the drinks were done, however, he glanced beneath the counter. Impulse turned around just in time to see Grian pull his DS back out. “NO!”
Grian jumped as the DS nearly fell. “Jesus, are you trying to kill me!”
“NO!”
“What?!”
Impulse pointed. “You can't just play games!”
“I'm on my break.”
“You've been on your break for forty minutes!”
Grian's eyes widened. “Oh.”
Impulse stared and Grian slowly lowered the DS. “Really?”
“Yes!”
“Huh.”
Impulse rubbed his face. “Go deliver those coffees.”
Grian looked at the drinks. Then at Impulse. Then back at the drinks. “No.”
Impulse's wings flared. “GRIAN.”
“I'm the barista.”
“And the cashier.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn't mean you can't move!”
Grian looked deeply offended. “It literally does. I live behind my counter."
Impulse made a strangled noise.
Skizz finally appeared beside them, still holding the coffee pot. “What's happening?”
Impulse pointed at Grian. “He's useless.”
Grian gasped. “I made those drinks.”
“And then you were going to sit down and play Zelda.”
“I wasn't!”
“You had the DS in your hand!”
“I was checking the time.”
Skizz leaned over. “The screen says Link's health is at three hearts.”
Grian stared at him. Skizz stared back. Grian slowly tucked the DS away. “I hate this place.”
Skizz grinned. “No, you don't.”
Grian muttered something beneath his breath and picked up the coffees.
Impulse immediately watched him.
Grian sighed. “Fine!” He marched away from the counter, wings twitching with every irritated step, and began delivering the drinks.
Impulse watched him go, then smiled.
Skizz looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You look evil.”
Impulse's smile widened. “Good.”
Back in the kitchen, Bdubs had reached a breaking point. “This is ridiculous.”
Tango glanced at him. “What is?”
“This!” Bdubs gestured at the cupcake as Tango looked at it and Gem looked over from the brownie batter. The frosting was supposed to resemble a flower but it looked more like a deeply confused pile of intestines.
Gem's ears twitched.
Bdubs stared at her. “Don't.”
She immediately looked away.
Tango lowered his head.
Bdubs pointed. “Don't laugh!”
Tango's shoulders started shaking.
Bdubs threw the piping bag onto the counter. “I'M DONE!”
Gem caught it before it landed. “No, you're not.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
Tango finally broke as a sharp laugh escaped him.
Bdubs spun around. “You!”
Tango immediately lifted both hands. “Sorry.”
“You're not sorry!”
“No.”
Bdubs grabbed a cupcake.
Gem's eyes widened. “Bdubs.”
He held it up. “I'm not going to throw it.”
“Good.”
“I want to.”
“Don't.”
Bdubs looked at Tango. Tango looked at the cupcake. Gem looked between the two of them.
Tango slowly took a step backwards.
Bdubs put the cupcake down. “Coward.”
Tango laughed again.
The kitchen door burst open.
Pearl stepped through, immediately freezing at the sight of all three of them. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Gem said.
Bdubs pointed at Tango. “He laughed at me.”
Pearl looked at Tango.
Tango shrugged.
Pearl looked at the cupcakes, then at Bdubs' frosting. There was a pause.
Bdubs narrowed his eyes. “Pearl.”
She bit her lip.
“Don't.”
Her shoulders twitched.
“Pearl.”
She made a strangled noise as Tango laughed harder, Gem covered her mouth as Pearl pointed at the cupcakes. “Those look—”
“Finish that sentence.”
“—creative.”
Bdubs' face went completely blank. Gem turned away and started laughing into her sleeve.
The door opened.
Impulse appeared. “Why is everyone laughing?”
Nobody answered.
Impulse looked at the cupcake then immediately understood. “Oh.”
Bdubs pointed. “Don't.”
Impulse pressed his lips together. “I'm not.”
“You're thinking about it.”
“I am.”
Bdubs groaned. “WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME?”
“No one hates you,” Gem said.
Tango immediately added, “I don't hate you.”
Pearl nodded. “Yeah.”
Impulse smiled. “Of course not.”
Bdubs looked between them suspiciously. “Then why are you all laughing?”
Gem patted his shoulder. “Because we love you.”
Bdubs stared at her. “That doesn't make me feel better.”
“It wasn't supposed to.”
Another ticket printed as everyone looked towards it. Impulse grabbed it and his face fell.
Gem slowly stopped smiling. “What?”
Impulse read it again. Then held it up. “More cupcakes.”
Bdubs' face twisted. “No.”
Tango picked up another piping bag. “Yep.”
“No.”
“Yep.”
Bdubs backed away from the counter. “I refuse.”
Gem stepped in front of him. “Bdubs.”
“No.”
“Bdubs.”
“I've frosted enough.”
Pearl grabbed a tray. “We need twelve.”
Bdubs looked horrified. “TWELVE?”
Impulse corrected, “Twenty-four.”
Bdubs stared at him.
Impulse winced. “Sorry.”
Bdubs slowly looked towards the ceiling. “Why?”
Grian suddenly poked his head through the kitchen door. “Hey.”
Everyone turned.
Grian smiled. “Can someone make me a coffee?”
Silence. Absolute silence.
Grian blinked. “What?”
Bdubs pointed at him. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you!”
Grian's head tilted. “What did I do?”
Impulse appeared behind him. “Nothing. That's the problem, Grian.”
Grian narrowed his eyes.
Impulse smiled. “Get back to work.”
Grian immediately vanished.
Gem snorted.
Pearl shook her head.
Bdubs picked up the piping bag again with the exhausted resignation of a man who had accepted that there was no escape. “Fine.”
Tango smiled. “That's the spirit.”
“Don't talk to me.”
Gem returned to her brownies. Pearl grabbed the tray of finished cupcakes. Impulse took the next order tickets and beyond the kitchen door, the café continued roaring around them: busy and loud and unbearably alive.
Grian's Zelda music started playing again from the front.
Impulse slowly closed his eyes as he inhaled through his nose with a puff of the imp's smoke escaping. “GRIAN!”
“WHAT?”
“PUT THE DS AWAY!”
“I'M SAVING HYRULE!”
“YOU WORK IN A CAFÉ!”
“HYRULE NEEDS ME!”
“THE CUSTOMERS NEED YOU!”
Grian's indignant squawk carried all the way into the kitchen. Gem burst into laughter, Pearl joined her, Tango's tail flicked as he grinned and Even Bdubs laughed, though he immediately scowled when the frosting on his next cupcake came out uneven.
The café remained chaos. But somehow, through the heat and the shouting and the endless orders, they kept moving and Grian, inevitably, playing Zelda whenever he thought nobody was looking.
Alternate greeting 13,462 tokens
The café was caught in that strange, hollow stillness that existed only before opening, when the building was technically awake but the world outside had not yet remembered it was supposed to be. Beyond the tall front windows, dawn was only beginning to bleed into the sky, a thin wash of cold grey-blue light barely touching the pavement. Inside, the café smelled overwhelmingly of coffee, sugar, warm bread and butter, with the faint metallic scent of freshly cleaned surfaces underneath it all. The chairs had been dragged into position, tables wiped until they squeaked beneath a cloth, displays polished, menus stacked, and every light switched on one by one until the darkness had been chased into the corners. Yet the quiet was deceptive. The kitchen had been working since four in the morning, and the evidence of that effort lingered everywhere in the form of cooling trays, flour fingerprints and the lingering warmth of industrial ovens.
Gem looked like she had been awake since another lifetime. Her deer ears drooped slightly from the sheer exhaustion settling into her bones, occasionally twitching whenever the mixer whirred or somebody dropped something. There was flour caught against the fabric of her clothes and dusted lightly along her fingers, despite how many times she had wiped her hands clean. She carried a tray towards the cooling rack with both hands, carefully balancing the pastries that were still warm enough to make the air shimmer faintly above them. The heat from the ovens clung stubbornly to her skin, turning the kitchen into a pocket of oppressive warmth compared with the chilly morning beyond the windows. Every breath tasted faintly of sugar.
Bdubs, meanwhile, was losing a battle against consciousness.
He stood at the counter with a piping bag in one hand, staring down at an unfortunate cupcake. His eyes had closed somewhere during the process. His head had begun to droop. The frosting remained suspended over the cupcake, the tip of the piping bag hovering a fraction of an inch above the pale surface. He'd apparently reached the point where exhaustion had become so complete that his body could no longer distinguish between working and sleeping.
Gem stopped as her ears slowly lifted. “Bdubs.”
Nothing.
She watched his head dip another fraction. “Bdubs.”
A tiny snore escaped him.
Gem's lips parted in disbelief. Tango, standing immediately beside him, didn't even seem surprised. The Nether hybrid continued frosting cupcakes with almost absurd concentration, one clawed hand holding the piping bag while the other slowly rotated each cupcake. His movements were smooth and economical, never hurried and never wasteful. The faint heat naturally radiating from his body seemed almost ridiculous in a kitchen already made hot by the ovens, and the soft glow beneath his skin caught against the stainless-steel surfaces whenever he shifted.
“He's asleep,” Gem whispered.
“Yep,” Tango replied.
Bdubs' head dropped.
Tango casually reached across and nudged him in the ribs.
Bdubs jolted so violently that the piping bag nearly launched from his hand. “I'M AWAKE!”
Gem stared at him.
Tango calmly continued frosting. “You were asleep.”
“I wasn't.”
“You snored.”
“I was breathing aggressively.”
Gem covered her mouth as her shoulders shook with a soft giggle.
Bdubs immediately looked at her. “Don't.”
She lowered her hand. “I didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
Tango placed another perfectly frosted cupcake onto the finished tray. “You were definitely asleep.”
Bdubs turned towards him with the exhausted indignation of someone who had been betrayed by the last person he expected to betray him. “Whose side are you on?”
Tango shrugged. “Mine.”
Gem laughed.
Bdubs groaned and dragged one hand over his face. His eyelids looked heavy enough to physically pull his head down. He yawned, mouth stretching wide, shoulders dropping with it until he looked less like a baker and more like a man who had accidentally wandered into work while still halfway through a dream. He blinked several times at the cupcake in front of him.
“I hate frosting.”
“You've said that twelve times,” Tango said.
“I hate it more every time.”
“You're still doing it.”
“Because I have to.”
“Exactly.”
Bdubs glared, then his eyes closed again.
Tango immediately poked his side.
Bdubs snapped upright. “STOP!”
“Stay awake.”
“I am awake!”
“You're doing it again.”
Gem leaned against the counter, trying desperately not to laugh.
Bdubs grabbed the piping bag with renewed determination. “I'm perfectly capable of frosting cupcakes.”
“Your last one looked like a crime scene,” Gem said.
Bdubs looked down: the cupcake in question sat nearby, its frosting slumped sideways in a lopsided mound. He stared at it in silence. Then carefully turned it around so he could no longer see it. “That one is.. abstract.”
Tango laughed.
Bdubs pointed his piping bag at him. “Don't.”
Tango's shoulders shook harder. “I'm not laughing.”
“You absolutely are.”
Tango's grin widened.
Bdubs looked towards Gem. “Help me.”
Gem looked at the cupcake, then at Bdubs, then back at the cupcake. “No.”
“Traitor.”
“I'm sorry.”
“No, you're not.”
“Not even slightly.”
Bdubs sighed so deeply it seemed to empty his entire body of whatever tiny reserve of energy remained. He picked up another cupcake, his hands began squeezing the piping bag. For several seconds, it went perfectly: a smooth spiral began to form as Bdubs stared at it with growing concentration. “See?” he whispered.
Gem smiled.
Tango glanced over.
The spiral continued, however.. Bdubs' eyes started closing.
“Bdubs.”
“I've got it.”
“Bdubs.”
“I've got—”
His head dropped, the frosting bag squeezed too hard and a thick blob of icing exploded onto the cupcake and spilled over the side.
Bdubs opened his eyes.
Silence.
He looked down then very slowly looked at Tango.
Tango was already smiling.
“No.”
Tango laughed.
“No!”
Gem finally broke, laughing hard enough that her ears flattened.
Bdubs pointed at both of them. “I hate this kitchen.”
“You said that yesterday,” Gem managed.
“I meant it yesterday too!”
The kitchen door opened behind them, and Pearl appeared with a stack of folded cloths balanced against one arm. Her wolf ears were alert despite the early hour, and her tail moved in a slow, irritated sweep behind her. She looked from Gem to Tango to Bdubs and finally to the disaster of a cupcake. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Bdubs said immediately.
Pearl stared at the cupcake, Bdubs shifted slightly to block it as her eyes narrowed. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No.”
Tango answered for him. “Yes.”
Bdubs looked horrified. “Why does everyone keep doing that?”
Pearl's mouth twitched. “Because you keep falling asleep.”
“I do not.”
“You literally just did.”
Bdubs folded his arms.
Pearl's wolf ears flicked. “There's frosting on your cheek.”
Bdubs froze, his hand slowly rose as he touched his cheek. Just.. looking at the frosting on his fingers. Then stared at Tango.
Tango smiled innocently.
Bdubs pointed. “You did that.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“You looked tired.”
“That isn't a reason!”
“It is at four in the morning.”
“It's nearly opening!”
“Exactly.”
Pearl shook her head and walked back towards the front of the café. “Try not to kill each other before customers arrive.”
“We won't!” Gem called.
Bdubs immediately muttered, “No promises.”
The front of the café was colder than the kitchen, the air carrying the faint crispness of early morning whenever the front door opened. Pearl moved methodically through the space, checking each table, wiping away imaginary dust, straightening chairs and aligning menus. Her wolf instincts seemed to make her particularly sensitive to things being out of place. A chair shifted half an inch from where she thought it belonged and she immediately stopped.
She stared at it.
Impulse, several feet away, noticed. “Pearl.”
She dragged the chair backwards. “There.”
Impulse stared.
Pearl tilted her head, then moved it another fraction. “Now. That's better.”
Impulse looked at the chair. Then at her. Sighing heavily with the energy of a guy who just was at his wits end. “You've moved that chair six times.”
“It was wrong.”
“It looked exactly the same every time.”
“It wasn't.”
Skizz emerged from behind the counter carrying a stack of clean menus. He glanced between them. “What did I miss?”
Impulse pointed towards the chair. “Pearl's having an argument with furniture.”
Pearl's ears flattened. “I'm not.”
Skizz looked at the chair. Then at Pearl. “Looks like you're winning to me.”
Pearl's expression softened immediately. “See, thank you.”
Impulse stared at Skizz. “You just encouraged her.”
Skizz shrugged. “I know better than to get between Pearl and a chair.”
Pearl moved away, satisfied.
Impulse watched her go. “She terrifies me.”
Skizz nodded. “Same.”
From behind the counter came the faint electronic chirping of Grian's DS. Neither of them needed to look, they already knew what they were about to see.
Grian was sitting comfortably behind the counter with his legs tucked beneath him, wings loosely folded behind his back and feathers slightly puffed from the warmth. His attention was completely absorbed by the tiny screen in his hands. The familiar music of The Legend of Zelda drifted quietly through the empty café, soft enough not to be obnoxious but distinct enough to make it abundantly clear that Grian had found something considerably more interesting than preparing for opening.
Except the counter itself was immaculate.
That was the annoying part.
Every surface had been wiped down. The espresso machine was humming quietly, already warmed. Cups had been stacked neatly. Syrups were lined up. The till had been counted and checked. The fridge behind him had been stocked. The display cabinets were filled and arranged with almost irritating precision.
Grian had done everything and now he was refusing to do anything else.
Skizz approached the counter. “Grian.”
“Mm?”
“Where are the new aprons?”
Grian didn't look up. “Behind the counter.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Skizz stared. “So can I get them?”
“No.”
Skizz blinked. “Why?”
“Because you're not coming behind my counter.”
“It's not your counter.”
Grian finally looked up, his expression was deeply offended. “It is while I'm working.”
“You're playing Zelda.”
“I'm multitasking.”
Impulse came over. “Grian.”
“What?”
“We just need the aprons.”
Grian sighed dramatically, then reached beneath the counter as he pulled out a cardboard package. Everyone watched as he slid it across the counter. “There.”
Skizz looked at the package. Then at Grian. “You could've just given them to us.”
“I did.”
“You made us ask.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Grian returned to his DS as he scooped it back up in his hands as he kicked up his legs to rest on the counter. “Because I said so.”
Pearl snorted.
Grian looked up. “What?”
“You're ridiculous.”
“Correct.”
The front door opened. Grian's eyes flicked towards it, then back to his game. The new arrival was Gem, she walked through carrying her coffee. Grian had already placed it on the counter before she entered. GEM. Written in black marker, a tiny pair of antlers had been doodled above her name.
Gem smiled. “You made mine?”
“Obviously.”
“When?”
“Before you arrived.”
“How?”
“You order the same thing every day.”
Gem wrapped both hands around the cup, letting the warmth sink into her fingers. “Thanks!”
Grian smiled faintly, then immediately returned to Zelda. Another door movement. Impulse. His cup was waiting. IMPULSE. A tiny pair of wings beside his name.
Impulse picked it up. “You remembered.”
“I remember everyone's order.”
Skizz immediately appeared. “Mine too?”
Grian slid another cup across. “Obviously.”
Skizz looked down. SKIZZ. A smiling face beneath it as he grinned. “You're a sweetheart.”
Grian recoiled. “Don't call me that.”
Skizz laughed.
Pearl arrived next and her cup was already waiting. PEARL. A tiny wolf doodle beneath the name. She stared at it for a moment before taking it. “Thanks.”
“Mm.”
She took a sip as her ears immediately relaxed, tail wagging slowly in content. “Perfect.”
“I know.” Grian sounded so smug that Pearl had to resist smiling.
Then the kitchen door opened.
Bdubs stumbled out as everyone turned to look at him; He looked exhausted, he had frosting on his cheek again, his hair was sticking up and his eyes were barely open.
Grian took one look at him and reached beneath the counter. Bdubs' cup appeared: BDUBS. A tiny skull beside the name.
Bdubs frowned. "What's the skull for?”
“You're dying.”
“I'm not.”
“You look dead.”
“I'm tired.”
“Exactly.”
Bdubs picked up the cup, he immediately felt the weight as he narrowed his eyes cautiously. “What did you put in this?”
“Your mint hot chocolate.”
Bdubs stared suspiciously at Grian.
Grian smiled. “Drink.”
Bdubs took a sip and his expression changed as he swallowed. “Why is there coffee in it?”
“Three espresso shots.”
Silence.
Pearl's ears shot upwards.
Impulse slowly lowered his drink.
Skizz stared.
Gem's eyebrows climbed.
Tango appeared behind Bdubs. “Three?”
Grian nodded. “Three.”
Bdubs stared at him. “You put three espresso shots in my hot chocolate?”
“You've been falling asleep.”
“I'm tired!”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn't mean you give me enough caffeine to see through time!”
Grian shrugged. “It'll help and save Tango from having to wake you up every two minutes.”
Tango laughed as Impulse muttered with a heavy groan, “That's going to be interesting.”
Skizz looked delighted.
Bdubs took another sip as his eyes widened.
Grian leaned forward. “Good?”
Bdubs swallowed. “Unfortunately.”
Grian grinned. “See? Knew you'd like it.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
Bdubs drank again.
Grian's smile widened.
The morning slowly began to settle into place around them. The lights were brighter now, the cold grey outside gradually being replaced by proper daylight. The café smelled of coffee and freshly baked pastries. The ovens had finally been turned down, leaving the kitchen less oppressive. Gem and Tango returned to the remaining trays while Bdubs was firmly instructed to keep frosting until every cupcake was finished.
The servers moved through their opening routines: Pearl wiped down the last table, Impulse checked the menus, Skizz carried the new aprons towards the back and Grian remained behind his counter.
He had his coffee machine ready; the till was counted, the displays were perfect, the fridge was full. Everything was ready. Which, according to Grian, meant he had earned the right to sit down again.
The DS returned to his hands as the music of Zelda filled the quiet.
Bdubs looked through the kitchen doorway. “Are you seriously playing again?”
Grian didn't look up. “I finished everything.”
“You're unbelievable.”
“I know.”
Bdubs shook his head, then took another sip of his mint hot chocolate; his eyes widened slightly as the caffeine was beginning to work. His shoulders straightened and his gaze became more focused.
Tango glanced at him. “Feeling alive?”
Bdubs looked down at the drink. Then towards Grian. “Unfortunately.”
Grian grinned without looking away from the DS. “You're welcome.”
Bdubs grumbled something under his breath.
Gem laughed quietly.
And then, as the first light of morning finally spilled properly through the windows and the café prepared to open its doors, Grian's Zelda music continued playing beneath the quiet hum of the coffee machine.
For once, nobody stopped him.
Not yet.
Alternate greeting 24 tokens
Create Your Own Story
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