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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months ago

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Sympathy for the spammer

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

It's ever been thus. The California gold rush was a con, and nearly everyone who went west went broke. Famously, the only reliable way to cash out on the gold rush was to sell "picks and shovels" to the credulous, doomed and desperate. That's how Leland Stanford made his fortune, which he funneled into eugenics programs (and founding a university):

https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/malcolm-harris/palo-alto/9780316592031/

That means that the people who try to con you are almost always getting conned themselves. Think of Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) scams. My forthcoming novel The Bezzle opens with a baroque and improbable fast-food Ponzi in the town of Avalon on the island of Catalina, founded by the chicle monopolist William Wrigley Jr:

http://thebezzle.org

Wrigley found fast food declasse and banned it from the island, a rule that persists to this day. In The Bezzle, the forensic detective Martin Hench uncovers The Fry Guys, an MLM that flash-freezes contraband burgers and fries smuggled on-island from the mainland and sells them to islanders though an "affiliate marketing" scheme that is really about recruiting other affiliate markets to sell under you. As with every MLM, the value of the burgers and fries sold is dwarfed by the gigantic edifice of finance fraud built around it, with "points" being bought and sold for real cash, which is snaffled up and sucked out of the island by a greedy mainlander who is behind the scheme.

A "bezzle" is John Kenneth Galbraith's term for "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." In every scam, there's a period where everyone feels richer – but only the scammers are actually cleaning up. The wealth of the marks is illusory, but the longer the scammer can preserve the illusion, the more real money the marks will pump into the system.

MLMs are particularly ugly, because they target people who are shut out of economic opportunity – women, people of color, working people. These people necessarily rely on social ties for survival, looking after each others' kids, loaning each other money they can't afford, sharing what little they have when others have nothing.

It's this social cohesion that MLMs weaponize. Crypto "entrepreneurs" are encouraged to suck in their friends and family by telling them that they're "building Black wealth." Working women are exhorted to suck in their bffs by appealing to their sisterhood and the chance for "women to lift each other up."

The "sales people" trying to get you to buy crypto or leggings or supplements are engaged in predatory conduct that will make you financially and socially worse off, wrecking their communities' finances and shattering the mutual aid survival networks they rely on. But they're not getting rich on this – they're also being scammed:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4686468

This really hit home for me in the mid-2000s, when I was still editing Boing Boing. We had a submission form where our readers could submit links for us to look at for inclusion on the blog, and it was overwhelmed by spam. We'd add all kinds of antispam to it, and still, we'd get floods of hundreds or even thousands of spam submissions to it.

One night, I was lying in my bed in London and watching these spams roll in. They were all for small businesses in the rustbelt, handyman services, lawn-care, odd jobs, that kind of thing. They were 10 million miles from the kind of thing we'd ever post about on Boing Boing. They were coming in so thickly that I literally couldn't finish downloading my email – the POP session was dropping before I could get all the mail in the spool. I had to ssh into my mail server and delete them by hand. It was maddening.

Frustrated and furious, I started calling the phone numbers associated with these small businesses, demanding an explanation. I assumed that they'd hired some kind of sleazy marketing service and I wanted to know who it was so I could give them a piece of my mind.

But what I discovered when I got through was much weirder. These people had all been laid off from factories that were shuttering due to globalization. As part of their termination packages, their bosses had offered them "retraining" via "courses" in founding their own businesses.

The "courses" were the precursors to the current era's rise-and-grind hustle-culture scams (again, the only people getting rich from that stuff are the people selling the courses – the "students" finish the course poorer). They promised these laid-off workers, who'd given their lives to their former employers before being discarded, that they just needed to pull themselves up by their own boostraps:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/10/declaration-of-interdependence/#solidarity-forever

After all, we had the internet now! There were so many new opportunities to be your own boss! The course came with a dreadful build-your-own-website service, complete with an overpriced domain sales portal, and a single form for submitting your new business to "thousands of search engines."

This was nearly 20 years ago, but even then, there was really only one search engine that mattered: Google. The "thousands of search engines" the scammers promised to submit these desperate peoples' websites to were just submission forms for directories, indexes, blogs, and mailing lists. The number of directories, indexes, blogs and mailing lists that would publish their submissions was either "zero" or "nearly zero." There was certainly no possibility that anyone at Boing Boing would ever press the wrong key and accidentally write a 500-word blog post about a leaf-raking service in a collapsing deindustrialized exurb in Kentucky or Ohio.

The people who were drowning me in spam weren't the scammers – they were the scammees.

But that's only half the story. Years later, I discovered how our submission form was getting included in this get-rich-quick's mass-submission system. It was a MLM! Coders in the former Soviet Union were getting work via darknet websites that promised them relative pittances for every submission form they reverse-engineered and submitted. The smart coders didn't crack the forms directly – they recruited other, less business-savvy coders to do that for them, and then often as not, ripped them off.

The scam economy runs on this kind of indirection, where scammees are turned into scammers, who flood useful and productive and nice spaces with useless dross that doesn't even make them any money. Take the submission queue at Clarkesworld, the great online science fiction magazine, which famously had to close after it was flooded with thousands of junk submission "written" by LLMs:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

There was a zero percent chance that Neil Clarke would accidentally accept one of these submissions. They were uniformly terrible. The people submitting these "stories" weren't frustrated sf writers who'd discovered a "life hack" that let them turn out more brilliant prose at scale.

They were scammers who'd been scammed into thinking that AIs were the key to a life of passive income, a 4-Hour Work-Week powered by an AI-based self-licking ice-cream cone:

https://pod.link/1651876897/episode/995c8a778ede17d2d7cff393e5203157

This is absolutely classic passive-income brainworms thinking. "I have a bot that can turn out plausible sentences. I will locate places where sentences can be exchanged for money, aim my bot at it, sit back, and count my winnings." It's MBA logic on meth: find a thing people pay for, then, without bothering to understand why they pay for that thing, find a way to generate something like it at scale and bombard them with it.

Con artists start by conning themselves, with the idea that "you can't con an honest man." But the factor that predicts whether someone is connable isn't their honesty – it's their desperation. The kid selling drugs on the corner, the mom desperately DMing her high-school friends to sell them leggings, the cousin who insists that you get in on their shitcoin – they're all doing it because the system is rigged against them, and getting worse every day.

These people reason – correctly – that all the people getting really rich are scamming. If Amazon can make $38b/year selling "ads" that push worse products that cost more to the top of their search results, why should the mere fact that an "opportunity" is obviously predatory and fraudulent disqualify it?

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

The quest for passive income is really the quest for a "greater fool," the economist's term for the person who relieves you of the useless crap you just overpaid for. It rots the mind, atomizes communities, shatters solidarity and breeds cynicism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

The rise and rise of botshit cannot be separated from this phenomenon. The botshit in our search-results, our social media feeds, and our in-boxes isn't making money for the enshittifiers who send it – rather, they are being hustled by someone who's selling them the "picks and shovels" for the AI gold rush:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

That's the true cost of all the automation-driven unemployment criti-hype: while we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The manic "entrepreneurs" who've been stampeded into panic by the (correct) perception that the economy is a game of musical chairs where the number of chairs is decreasing at breakneck speed are easy marks for the Leland Stanfords of AI, who are creating generational wealth for themselves by promising that their bots will automate away all the tedious work that goes into creating value. Expect a lot more Amazon Marketplace products called "I'm sorry, I cannot fulfil this request as it goes against OpenAI use policy":

https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/12/24036156/openai-policy-amazon-ai-listings

No one's going to buy these products, but the AI picks-and-shovels people will still reap a fortune from the attempt. And because history repeats itself, these newly minted billionaires are continuing Leland Stanford's love affair with eugenics:

https://www.truthdig.com/dig-series/eugenics/

The fact that AI spam doesn't pay is important to the fortunes of AI companies. Most high-value AI applications are very risk-intolerant (self-driving cars, radiology analysis, etc). An AI tool might help a human perform these tasks more accurately – by warning them of things that they've missed – but that's not how AI will turn a profit. There's no market for AI that makes your workers cost more but makes them better at their jobs:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Plenty of people think that spam might be the elusive high-value, low-risk AI application. But that's just not true. The point of AI spam is to get clicks from people who are looking for better content. It's SEO. No one reads 2000 words of algorithm-pleasing LLM garbage over an omelette recipe and then subscribes to that site's feed.

And the omelette recipe generates pennies for the spammer that posted it. They are doing massive volume in order to make those pennies into dollars. You don't make money by posting one spam. If every spammer had to pay the actual recovery costs (energy, chillers, capital amortization, wages) for their query, every AI spam would lose (lots of) money.

Hustle culture and passive income are about turning other peoples' dollars into your dimes. It is a negative-sum activity, a net drain on society. Behind every seemingly successful "passive income" is a con artist who's getting rich by promising – but not delivering – that elusive passive income, and then blaming the victims for not hustling hard enough:

https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/12/blueprint-trouble

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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hillbillyoracle · 10 months ago

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So you can't get out of bed...

This is a resource list for all those who are having trouble getting out of bed. Whether that's because of injury, disability, or mental health, this collection of resources should help address some of the common pain points I've experienced over the years. Some will require modification if truly bedbound but my hope is this sparks ideas and gives you a place to start.

A warning: this is a *long* post. I went for thoroughness over brevity so people had options where possible.

Food

This video from Sarah McGlory of Adaptive Cleaning details her system.

It is excellent. I have a similar bin to her first in my room for high pain and low mood days. Prioritize high fiber and high protein shelf stable foods. Make sure electrolytes and water are within easy reach.

If grocery trips are too much, it's worth looking into pick up or delivery. In my experience, the delivery services through stores are better than Instacart and the like. The retailer who must not be named also has a great snack selections that hold up pretty well in transit.

Fruit + veggie pouches, baked chips, and RXBars are some of my favorites to keep on hand.

Clean Space

This video from KC Davis of Struggle Care details her "Five Things Tidying Method".

If you can't tidy your whole space, focus on the walkways. Make sure you have a walkway to your bedroom door, to your front door (or other way to leave your house), to the bathroom, and to the kitchen or where you store food.

Another tip from KC Davis - if you're struggling to get your plates back to the kitchen before they stick or attract bugs, get gallon sized plastic bags and seal the plates inside of them. You can always wash and reuse them once you've delivered it safely to your sink or dishwasher. When you're just surviving, it's just as okay to toss them after.

Bonus: This no-mess method of decluttering from Dana K. White is low energy friendly. You can stop whenever and your space is still better.

Hygiene

This post details my care kit that I use.

If you're unable to shower regularly, I'd add in some baby wipes. Yours probably won't look exactly like mine but I hope it can be a jumping off point. If I could only pick two items, it'd be the disposable toothbrushes and a good facial lotion (since it can also be used on the body). If you can't bare to change your clothes, just change your underwear. This helps prevent health issues down the road.

Movement

Arm Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 min]

Core Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Leg Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Yoga in Bed: [Morning] [Anytime] [Evening]

Stretching: [5 Min] [10 Min]

If you're able to stand + move but not up for leaving your room, then Rick Bhullar's walking workouts are great in a small space.

For a long time, I thought that you could only get exercise by getting dressed in specific clothes and going outside or to a gym. Now I know that there are lots of options for getting a little movement in bed. Even a short 3 min workout a day can help decrease muscle atrophy. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good enough.

Bonus: I also just walk laps around my room/apartment. You don't have to go outside. It can get a little boring sure. But quick 5-10 min walking breaks through out the day add up.

Spirituality

This is ultimately going to be specific to you and your tradition. Even if you are not religious at all taking a moment to think about your bigger picture values is important. Since my core spiritual path is Buddhism, here are some recommendations in that vein. I could not find good links for all of these. I don't necessarily do all of these everyday but I try to do a few.

Three Refuges by Plum Village

The Five Precepts by Access to Insight

The Five Remembrances on Wikipedia

Chanting Om Mani Padme Hum

Chanting Namo'valokiteshvara

Reciting the Heart Sutra

Bonus: A pagan practice I enjoy is reciting the hymns to the planet of the day. Offering water and incense is great but optional. Praying to and thanking ancestors and land spirits is also a great practice.

Alternatives to Social Media

It's easy to get stuck in the black hole of scrolling. It's good to have something enjoyable to pivot to.

Cozy Games

My favorites are Stardew Valley, Wingspan, and Animal Crossing. The first two aren't terribly expensive. A lower cost alternative to Animal Crossing would be Cozy Grove which regularly goes on sale. Sims can be cozy as well - minus any pool shenanigans.

Slowly

This is an app that allows you to send messages but delivers them on a delay based on how far away you are from someone. It makes it fairly easy to find penpals though, as with anything, it can be hit or miss. I've even convinced a few of my irl friends to try it and write them little letters on there. The delay makes receiving them more special. It's a great way to play letter writing rpgs with friends. I'm currently using it to play Grandpa's Farm with my partner.

750 Words

Ever wished you could do morning pages digitally? That's what 750 words started out as being but you can ultimately use it however you want. Some people use it to hit word counts on their writing projects. I'm a fan of using it to brain dump and then micro journal. It does cost a small fee after 30 days but it's by far been worth it to me.

FeederWatch

Getting outside - even if it's just for 5 minutes - once a day is a great goal. But if you can't, take a break and watch one of these feeder streams for a while. Even just seeing images of the outdoors, is calming. I sometime throw this up on one screen while I'm playing a cozy game or doing some non-screen activities.

Screen Breaks

We all know it's important to take screen breaks - but it's extra important to do it when you're in bed and you're screens are a big part of how you spend your day. Below are some of my favorite ways to take a break. 10 minutes every two hours or 20 minutes every three hours can make a big difference.

Postcrossing or writing letters to friends

Solo RPGs - here are some of mine, here's a D&D example

Free adult coloring pages

Read a Book - reading challenge, get personalized recommendations

Play a solitaire card game - there are so damn many now

Walk around for 5-10 minutes, bonus if it's outside.

Volunteer

One of the big feelings that come up for me when I'm mostly in bed is that I feel like a burden to others. Rather than trying to "be productive" I've found it's much better to try to positively contribute to others even if it's in small ways - sending a text to someone remembering/thanking them for something kind they did for me, ordering a little present for someone I know who's had a rough time, sending a card to someone who has a birthday coming up. The little stuff really helps people.

If you don't have many people in your life like that to help or you'd like to help some strangers too here are some other options.

Sigma Phi Eta

This is a 100% online and free greek service org I'm trying to get off the ground. 3 hours of service to become a pledge which count towards the 10 needed to become a member. 10 hours each year to stay active. We maintain an updated list of online/distanced volunteer opportunities as we find them. We have service awards for those who want to go above and beyond. Plus once you're a member you can wear our letters.

We're small right now but if you want a group of people to talk service and grow with - come join us!

Letters Against Isolation

LAI is probably my favorite charity I volunteer for. Volunteers write cards and letters to people in nursing homes, assisted living, and those connected to senior centers through Meals on Wheels and other programs. They're always adding new facilities so the need is always growing. They have facilities in multiple countries they write to and could use people who speak another language especially.

Warm Up America

Mostly for crocheters and knitters - this org accepts donations of all kinds of patterns and distributes them to smaller projects and charities who otherwise wouldn't be able to access these kind of goods at scale. I've made a few things for them - simple hats - and greatly enjoyed the process. Great use for your cheaper acrylic yarns.

7 Cups

I've had a mixed experience with 7 Cups. I really have enjoyed my experiences chatting with people on there but it can be really hit or miss as to whether I feel like I've helped people. There's also the usual people who try to use any chat service for sex. That aside, I still think their training is pretty good and it can feel meaningful when you're able to connect with someone who's not doing so hot.

Checklist

Have you cleaned yourself + changed clothes? [ ]

Have you tended to your spirituality? [ ]

Have you fed yourself? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you tended to your space? [ ]

Have you gotten some movement in? [ ]

Have you taken a social media break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you taken a screen break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you volunteered or done something nice for another person? [ ]

#self care #depression #disability #bedbound #harm reduction

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hierba-picante · 6 months ago

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I'll Be There Ch. 2

Didn't read chapter 1? Well, here it is!! :]

Edit: Fic is now on AO3!

WEEEE CHAPTER TWO!!

Summary: YIPEEE YOU GOT THE JOB!! :D Now you gotta tell your little brother the good news!

Word Count: 7.7k!

Tags!: gn!reader, many hijinks, no use of y/n, Gregory is a little shit, the daycare attendants are goofy, Moon, Sun, and Eclipse are all separate animatronics!, Daycare attendants have transatlantic accents, Alternate universe- Canon Divergence, self insert, 2nd person POV, slight angst, comfort,

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Gregory finished his last bite of pizza, happily taking a sip of his soda to wash it down. The pizza itself was one of the best he’d eaten. Served hot and loaded with cheese and sauce, each bite was just as good as the last. The crust itself was good too. Garlic seasoning on it with specks of cheese baked on top of it. Pleased with himself, he packed his left overs in the box it came in. He couldn’t help the swing of his legs as he looked around the food court, absentmindedly drumming his full stomach.

“But…I wanted that one…I want the cone” her voice cracked.

Noting the few families sitting at their assigned tables, he glanced at a pair of siblings. An older brother laughed as his little sister spilled ice cream on the table. Her fishbowl eyes watering as she stared blankly at her now empty ice cream cone. Her brother grabbed a napkin and wiped her face clean. Taking a new napkin, he dried her tears.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a new one. In a cup this time okay?” he cooed as he helped his sister out of her chair.

The older brother gave a small smile and picked her up. “You still have your cone, you can take a bite of it as you eat your new ice cream.”

Her eyes twinkled, “Yeah! I can!” Her legs excitedly kicked against her brother’s abdomen. He winced a bit as he carried her away.

Your little brother couldn’t help the slump in his shoulders. When was your interview done? How long could a retail position take to interview? He grumbled as he sunk in his chair. Irritated eyes glancing over to another family at a table.

Two parents were seated with their baby boy and daughter. Their father was cleaning the little boy’s face while their daughter took bites out of a pizza. Gregory’s posture straightened a bit, watching the parents give attention to the boy. He felt the ends of his mouth curl downwards. The father’s phone rang. He briefly looked down at it, dismissing himself from the table with a kiss to his wife. Passing his toddler over to his oldest, who happily carried him on her lap. She offered a sip of cola to her sibling, who excitedly grabbed at the straw. Their mother affectionately tucked the hair behind her daughter’s ear.

Gregory ripped his eyes away from the happy family and took a shaky breath. Clammy hands gripping his box of pizza as he walked away. Jealousy gripped at his chest. Your interview had to have been done by now, it just had to.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Pansy had walked you out of the daycare, showing you how to use your employee watch. It was a baby blue banded wrist accessory, adorned with happy clouds smiling up at you. She showed you how to open the door and reminded you to not worry about locking it. It had its own self locking system. Amongst door accessibility there was also communication within the watch. Not just from Pansy but from the company as well. They had been kind enough to implement a small map you were able to open in the watch if you needed. A little orange dot to mark where you currently were. An emergency call option was also given to you, in the case you didn’t have your phone on you.

Your new manager also left you with a bag for your uniforms. There were three to choose from, each with a duplicate to use in between washes. The first one shined with yellow colors. A yellow short sleeve button up with, of course, suns dancing across it. Paired with a sun ray headband. The second was a navy blue short sleeve button up, stars with sleepy expressions leading towards the ends of the shirt. A night cap was given for this uniform. The appearance of sleepy stars littering the cap. The last uniform was a calming orange, short sleeve button up. Little eclipsed suns fashioned in a linear pattern. Another sunny ray headband similar to the last one, only this pair was two toned to match Eclipse’s own rays. You just had to make sure you wore work appropriate pants and shoes. They gave you the freedom to accessorize your uniforms, even offering you a handful of patches and pins of the daycare attendants to use.

Placing the headpiece back into your gifted tote bag, you reached for your phone to call your brother. You smiled as you swiped through your contacts. Oblivious to him already walking over to you. Your walking stuttered to a halt as you felt his forehead fall to your stomach.

“Greg! I was just going to call you, I got the job!” you cheerily greeted him with good news. He stayed silent. Quirking an eyebrow, you set your phone in your bag and gave him your full attention. “Hey…Gregory?”

The car ride was quiet with the exception of faint radio. You'd glance over to him every now and then to see his eyes glued to the window. Watching the world pass by in front of him. Thoughts swarmed your brain as you tried coming up with remedies for his state of mind. Maybe you guys could watch a movie. You could buy his favorite snacks and let him pick the film. Watching a movie would demand his entire attention. Or you could get back to teaching him how to crochet. Something to keep his hands busy would keep his mind off things. You'd see which one he'd prefer once you got to that point.

Still nothing.

The new items sat on the floor next to your feet. This wasn’t like your brother. You were expecting him to give some sort of light hearted snide remark. Or even congrats. But there was nothing. You kneeled down in front of him and cradled his face with one hand. “Are you okay? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Finally, he raised his eyes up to meet yours. His once smirking eyes were now puffy and red. Your brows knitted together as you inspected his face for any hints as to why he came to you like this. Taking a look at his hands, you gave them a once over as well. Arms and legs, nothing new.

“I’m here now, what do you need?” you offered. His pizza box in his hands crumpled in between his fingers. He couldn’t help the sob that left his gritted teeth.

Immediately, you took the box from his hands and offered your own for him to hold. He took them without hesitation, using them to hide his face. You wiped his tears away and moved his hair out of his eyes. Glancing around to see where he came from, you noticed the food court some feet away. Watching a family leave with happy smiles. Hiding the growing worry on your face, you smiled softly at him, now understanding what was causing his distress. You pulled away and offered your name tag for him to look at. He sniffled and tilted the plastic side to side. Dimly watching it change between three images. Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you carried him with one arm and his pizza leftovers with the other.

Upon arriving home, Gregory stood by the door with his pizza, waiting for you to grab your things. He watched you twist the keys to the door and stared as you left your bags by the coat rack.

“I saw a family today...” he muttered under his breath. Pausing your actions, you gave him your full attention. “I was...jealous,” he admitted. You gently took the box out of his hand and placed it on the couch.

“And...sad…sad I don't remember how our parents were…” Your heart squeezed as you listened to your little brother.

Gregory was very young when the accident happened. No older than six. You yourself were still a child, halfway done with high school. It was a traumatic experience for the both of you, but Gregory had been there to witness all of it in its entirety. You were at a friend's house studying at that time. It wouldn't be surprising to you if the trauma caused Gregory to block out a lot of his childhood. That includes his memories of mom and dad.

“I have some old family albums, we can look through them together,” you offered as you began to take your shoes off. “I'll tell you stories too, anything you want.”

Your brother sat on the couch. “That'd be nice…” he trailed off. Kicking off his own shoes without much effort. He curled himself into the cushions. “I'd…like that…” he murmured.

Turning to face him, you watched as his breathing relaxed. His breath was slow and long. Eyes closed and peaceful. He'd fallen asleep. You watched solemnly. Walking over to him, you scooped him up just like you had when he was small. He didn't move at all, completely limp in your arms. Only moving to cuddle his way into your neck. Giving a big sigh through his nose once he was comfortable.

You glanced over at the clock to check the time. 3:32. Too early for a nap. But, you couldn't blame him. You didn't know how long he'd been crying before he came to you. He used up so much of his energy that it completely exhausted him. As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the soothing circular motions your hands wove into his back.

Gently, you turned the doorknob to your shared room. Your side of the room hadn't changed much. Just a new desk and some new pictures you've made a habit of thumb tacking to the wall. Gregory's had a new bed to accommodate his growing size. His small child desk had been switched out with your old one. He had his own fairy lights strung along his wall, a few books littering his bed, and some sketch books. Your brother had grown up to take an interest in drawing. Nothing too serious, just fun doodles of robots and whatever cartoon he'd seen that day.

Cradling him with one arm, you leaned a bit to push his books off, making sure to break their fall with your foot each time one fell. You leaned a bit too far as you reached for a stray sketchbook. Causing his limp body to sway off yours. Immediately, you cradle his head and gently place him back against your chest. Staying still to see if his breathing had changed. Nope, same relaxed breathing. You gave a quiet “phew” as you pulled his sheets aside. Carefully placing him in his bed, you watched as his brows weakly met. He reached back for you once he felt your warmth had gone. Laughing softly, you brought his sheets over him. His hands immediately grabbed at the fabric. He brought them to his chin and nuzzled himself into the pillow. Face once again peaceful as he continued to sleep.

Softly tracing your thumb against his cheek, your smile fell. Eyes following his still present tear stains. You couldn't clean them now, you'd already disturbed his sleep. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you stood up and left the room. Keeping the door ajar and making sure the fairy lights had been turned on. You could go out and follow your initial movie plan. But, that'd mean leaving Greg here alone. The thought of doing so after all that made your stomach churn. No, you wouldn't leave him by himself.

There was crocheting too. You made your way to the living room to see if you still had enough materials. Opening the closet, they smiled back at you. The threading hooks were still in their bins along with some thick pastel pink yarn. Checking off the list in your head, you then walked to the kitchen. The cupboards hoarded your various mugs and loose leaf tea assortments, all waiting to come together for a warm cup. Chamomile could be a good choice, even hibiscus. A quiet evening home could do him some good. Then again, so would the movie. A walk out to the store to get some fresh air after all that sounded nice.

You couldn't decide on what to do. You grit your teeth, and painfully grind them. You ultimately decided to let him make the choice. That'd allow him more freedom and give him enough space to feel more in control again. Yeah! The grinding of your teeth stopped as you happily got started on some dinner.

Chicken and rice was what you both usually had. For one, the rice was easy to come by in giant bags. And two, chicken was the least expensive protein you could get your hands on. Gregory preferred his grilled and seasoned with lemon. Normally you'd have left the meat to marinate overnight, but you fell asleep at your desk the night before. Your brother would have done it himself, but he too fell asleep at his desk. A habit you felt guilty of passing down onto him.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you made quick work of washing the rice. Running through five rinses, the water pooled up clear. The rice cooker beeped joyfully as you put in the bowl of rice, happy to have been fed. Your feet absentmindedly carried you to the fridge. Reaching down, you grabbed two lemons to season your chicken with. As you made your way back to the counter, you grabbed a knife and the cutting board along with a bowl. The zest of the lemons’ scent struck your nose as you cut into its flesh. Bringing the bowl to your side, you began to squeeze out its juices, making sure to pick out any seeds that had fallen in. You set the squeezed halves aside to use as candy for later.

Your mind drifted to the times you and Gregory made sweet treats out of lemon and orange peels. They were his favorite in the beginning, but they were quickly pushed aside once you introduced him to gummy bears. It's been a while since the two of you had any homemade candy. Now there was another option to help your brother unwind. Some good old fashioned family bonding. Aside from peel candies, you'd make ‘cakes’. No baking involved. Just some packaged cookies, cream, canned fruit slices and some sugar. The cookies would be used to border a container and layer the cream and fruit. With a dusting of sugar to go on top. You could make those too if he decided he wanted to.

Your eyes glanced at the clock, four twenty-nine, fingers absentmindedly brushing against the lemon peels. Your mind blanks as you watch the clock's small hand glide over the numbers.

Something's missing...

You glanced back down to the bowl of lemon juice then to the empty cutting board. Scoffing to yourself, your palm made contact with your forehead.

PeyPey snuck his way around the sleeping children. Carefully carrying a random sock he'd found. His partner, Caro, was weaving her way through the sea of sleeping bags. The daycare's guests had been put down for a nap. All faintly snoring, some louder than others. Disorganized at first glance, but each child belonged to a small group.

The chicken.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Some children couldn't sleep unless all lights were off, others had trouble without a night light. Then there were kids who slept like tornados. The attendants took care in organizing where each kid would go.

A handful would sleep furthest away from any lightsource, they were Moon’s. He was the best at seeing things in the dark and was the stealthiest among the others. He took pride in knowing no kid would wake up on his watch. Anytime he noticed one stirring, he'd simply hum a soothing tune. Ten times out of ten they'd get right back to snoring.

Another group would sleep closer to a window who's curtain opened slightly at the bottom. They were Sun's. His rays produced a faint light, allowing him to sit peacefully in the center of the sleeping children. In the past, he had a notorious streak of waking everyone up, so he was more than happy to sit and act as their nightlight.

The remaining kids were left to Eclipse, PeyPey, and Caro. Their group of children could sleep anywhere. The three attendants often had to make sure their kids weren't sleeping in painful positions or pulling blankets over their faces. Naturally, the couple's tiny size allowed them to easily do their work without waking anyone up. Eclipse mainly sat in guard, watching for anything that could happen. Offering his strength when his small two friends needed it.

As the hour went on, Sun couldn't help but ping his friends with a little message through their shared server.

“When do you think the gift shop will be done?? I'm ecstatic to see our new coworker again!!” His eagerness was kept well hidden by his shut eyes.

“Not long, I've seen where they keep the merchandising and sweets. Perhaps a day or two?” Moon offered his input as he delicately placed a child's hand back into their sleeping bag.

“All in due time. Though, with all the staff bots moving around I'd say a day at most,” Eclipse commented.

“A day sounds right, I'd say,” PeyPey agreed as he sat down next to Eclipse.

“Maybe even half a day if we're lucky!” Caro added as she settled on the other side of her towering friend.

Sun's rays couldn't help but spin at the notion. Half a day? Why that'd mean you'd be here tomorrow morning! He couldn't wait to see you again. A new coworker meant a new friend! A new friend meant more fun and memories to have! He calmed his rays as he snuck a glance through the curtain peak. As expected, staff bots running about with arms full of supplies. Some brought in signs that required the aid of two to carry.

“Caro might be right, the gift shop looks as good as finished! They're just organizing the shelves and adding some signage to the walls!!” Sun exclaimed.

“And it's only five thirty! The plex doesn't close until ten!” she excitedly pointed out, drumming Eclipse's leg. The latter chuckled and turned to glance at his twin, “Looks like we'll be seeing them tomorrow then.”

“New coworker, New gift shop, we might be busy tomorrow too. If this new spot gets advertised enough,” Moon pointed out. His faceplate resting in his palms as he watched his enamored twin keep track of all the staff bots. “I wonder what kind of person we'll get to know tomorrow”.

PeyPey chimed in. “A new one,” he laughed quietly to himself and his girlfriend couldn't help but snort.

Moon's eyes rolled. “Ah yes, how could I not have expected that.” He smiled over to the smaller animatronics.

“A completely new one, one we've very much never, ever seen before,” Caro teased as a smirk danced across her face.

“Alright, alright, keep that up and I won't let you hang around that smart alec anymore,” Moon challenged as his own smirk grew.

The female animatronic gasped as she scrambled to hide in Eclipse's lap. Her partner followed after her.

“Moon, dear brother, please don't joke like that. She has a hard time telling the difference.” The orange brother frowned at his lunar sibling.

“Darling, I wouldn't let that happen. Come out please,” PeyPey attempted to coax her out.

Moon sighed, guilt dripping into his chest. “I didn't mean it. I'd never take you away from your boyfriend, dear. I'm sorry.”

Caro peeked her head out, “Never ever?” Her hand reached out to meet PeyPey's.

The moon laughed, “Never ever.”

The female animatronic happily took PeyPey's hand and yanked him into Eclipse's lap. The pair giggling as their tall friend shook his head.

He felt like he was babysitting the couple now. “I wish Moon would,” his comment fell on deaf ears.

You and Gregory sat at the small dinner table, sharing the meal you just finished preparing. He smiled as he took another bite of rice and chicken. Tear stains gone and his eyes now well rested. The color in his face was restored as well. Your cheeks rose as you watched him eat. It was relieving to see him back to his usual self.

Sun's rays danced. “Puppy looove~” he sang.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“So, Greg, what do you wanna do after dinner?” you asked as you took a sip of your water. Ready to give him your previously planned options should he not have an idea already.

Your brother hummed in thought, “We could go back to the pizzaplex if you want,” he replied with his mouthful.

Nearly choking on your water, you took in a big gulp to avoid it. “But, do you want to?” you asked him with sincere curiosity and a bit of worry.

Gregory gently danced his head side to side, happily chewing on another bite of food. “Yeah, I wanna.” He smiled up at you from across the table.

You nodded. “Is it alright if I ask why?” You prepared yourself for whatever answer he could give. It was safe to assume he'd want a bit of space from the place after what happened that afternoon. But to want to go back now? It concerned you a bit.

He looked off to the side. “I want to have a better experience, one with you.” He blinked away his embarrassment. Briefly flitting his eyes to yours before looking away again.

The strings of your heart tugged as you replayed his reasoning in your head. “Aww, Greggy!” You couldn't help but get out of your chair and immediately pepper kisses into his hair.

“Agh—! Hey!” he fussed. Half pushing you away with one arm and half allowing you to smother him.

You chuckled and placed one last kiss on his cheek. “You don't let me baby you anymore.” Faking a pout at him, you leaned down to be eye level with him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yea, cause you act stupid.” He smirked and watched you gasp.

“Nuh uh,” you retorted as you walked back to your seat.

“Yuh huh, you do,” he challenged with a laugh. “You say stuff like ‘Aw my little Greggy! My good little Greggy eggy baby boy!’” he mocked.

Your eyes narrowed, “What else do you expect from your ‘favoritest favorite person’?” It was your turn to smirk as his jaw shut closed. “Your ‘bestest sib ever!’ or how about ‘the coolest sib’?” challenging his taunt with two of your own.

“I'm surprised you remember those,” he grumbled as he poked at the few remaining rice grains on his plate.

You took your victory with a bow. “I could never forget such titles,” you said, a smirk growing as you took your last bite of food. “But, yes, I'll take you there. What time is it?” you asked.

He glanced at the clock above your head. “Seven fifteen,” he answered.

You chugged the last of your water and rose up from your seat. “Alrighty then, go grab your shoes. We have about three hours ‘til they close,”giving your brother orders as you push your chair.

He excitedly ran over to the living room. Nearly tripping himself as he came back to push in his chair and place his dishes in the sink. Your eyes follow him as you let the warm water run. Doing the dishes now could waste some of your limited time, so you opted for letting them soak until the two of you came back home.

The excited thumps of shoes sounded in your ear as you dried your hands off with the kitchen rag. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself. Gregory was, without a doubt, a little shit. But, on occasion, he was a cute kid. Which, in your eyes, was all the time. Little shit or not, he was cute regardless. Especially now as he ran back to you and stopped at your side.

“Come on! Get your shoes!” he hurried you while pulling you to the living room.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” Your laughter never leaves as you reach your shoes by the door.

“They have the best pizza there! Come on, let's go share one! Oh—and ice cream!” He resumed pulling you out the door. You gave your boots a quick toe kick to the ground as you followed him, feeling them secure to your feet.

“We just ate, pudge!” You cackled watching him open the car door for you. “Plus you have leftovers from earlier!”

“I'm a growing boy, I can use more food!” He scrambled into the passenger seat. Too excited to walk around to enter properly, he wormed his way in from your lap.

You wiped the growing tears in your eyes. “Can't argue with that.” Watching him click his seat belt in and kick his feet in excitement.

Upon arriving at the pizzaplex, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference in the parking lot. It was a lot more full now compared to when you arrived for your interview. Finding a parking spot was a nightmare. Numerous times you had to turn back into the same line, thinking you saw a space available. Only to be met with disappointment as the space was taken by a small car. Gregory had his head sticking out the window trying to find a good spot.

“There!! Right there!!” he shouted and pointed to an empty spot.

Immediately you swerved into it, promptly backing up slowly to properly align yourself within the lines. You glanced at the sign in front of you, squinting as you tried to read the small writing. ‘Employee parking only,’ it read. You looked around and noticed you were at the front of the plex. After so much back and forth, you felt silly to not think of looking for this type of spot initially.

“Alright, let's go eat some pizza,” you said as you reached for your bag. Gregory gave a celebratory shout before climbing out of the car.

You made sure to attach your daycare watch to your wrist, just in case anyone asked about your choice in parking. It'd also help to familiarize yourself with its features.

The automatic doors welcomed you in. The sounds of arcade games and the clamoring of voices overlapping each other was all enough to make your head spin. The ping of your watch grabbed your attention. Glancing down, you quickly swiped at the notification on the screen.

“What's that?” Gregory half shouted over the numerous sounds.

“My work watch, looks like they fixed up a schedule for me already,” you answered.

To your delight, you'd been given a consistent schedule. Mondays through Fridays you'd work from 9 am to 5:30 pm. You had two ten minute breaks as well as a paid lunch break that had been scheduled into your work days. Luckily for you, that meant work would start tomorrow—tomorrow being Wednesday. Viewing all the chaos before you, you were grateful you'd be done with work before it got to be this crazy. The perks of working in an area with smaller children.

The daycare had closed its doors a little more than an hour ago. Staff Bots were roaming around and picking up any small debris the attendants might have missed. The lights dimmed once everything had been cleaned and sanitized. Which left the daycare attendants to retire to their rooms behind the stage.

Your attention is pulled by your brother leading you to a nearby food court. He looks back at you with a smile. A laugh rumbled in your chest as you watched him with adoring eyes. Happiness sprung into your heart, overjoyed your new job allowed you to see this side of Gregory.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Admittedly, while PeyPey and Caro were naturally the same height as the other attendants, they preferred to unwind in their smaller forms. Often sleeping in the room of whomever had been carrying them that evening. PeyPey yawned and curled himself into a complete ball in Sun's arms.

“Aww, someone needs to be put to charge~” Sun cooed as he opened the door to his room.

Pale yellow walls with warm orange light fixtures in the shapes of suns danced into view. A bed with white sheets laid at the corner. It had an orange bed frame to match the room. On the opposite side stood a wooden desk with small doodads in its cubbies. The tiled flooring was a happy yellow. Small plants in clear acrylic vases hung about his room. Some floral, others just greenery. An orange loveseat sat just a few feet away from his desk.

His small friend hummed in agreement as he briefly opened his eyes, “Where's Caro?”

The solar animatronic settled him into a small nest of blankets and pillows atop his desk. “She wanted to go for a night stroll with Eclipse!” A small charging pad rested beneath the small animatronic.

“I wanna go see her,” PeyPey groaned to himself as he tried swimming out of the blankets.

Sun quickly bundled him up. “No no sir, you need to charge! Your battery is running at five percent,” he frowned. He tried not to laugh as he watched his friend squirm in the swaddle of sheets.

The small animatronic frowned up at Sun, squinting at him. “I can find her just fine on a five percent charge,” he grumbled.

“As your friend and handler, I insist that you stay put and don’t push yourself,” Sun calmly stated.

PeyPey growled and rolled over to his side, facing his back towards Sun, causing the latter to gasp loudly, then stick his tongue out, fully aware that his small friend wouldn’t be able to see.

Moon knocked on his brother’s door. “Sun? Is something the matter?”

The twin jumped at the sound, scrambling to his feet as he ran to open the door. “Moony! I was just putting PeyPey down for an early charge, but he insisted on seeing his girlfriend.” His optics glared at the bundled animatronic. Who, in turn, glared back at the mention of his name.

The lunar animatronic chuckled at the news. “So why don’t you let him? If he can’t go to her, just ping her to come here,” he suggested.

Sun’s shoulders rose in a shrug. “I’d been so wrapped up in trying to charge him that the thought completely slipped my mind…” He turned back and watched PeyPey’s tired eyes slowly blink one after the other.

The solar animatronic looked amongst the many children. “Which one is yours?”

With a sigh, he did what his twin recommended him to do.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Eclipse had been walking around a food court with Caro on his shoulder. Animatronics weren’t gifted with taste buds, but they still had receptors to feel. It just so happened that Eclipse favored the sensation spicy foods brought. His usual meal consisted of nachos swimming in hot sauce and jalapeňos. As well as a cup of pickled jalapeňo juice to wash it all down with. His brothers weren’t much of a spice fan as he was. Moon favored sour tasting things, enough so to keep eating them until the acids scarred his synthetic skin. Sun, on the other hand, liked sweets the most. The only word he could use to describe the taste was light and happy. That meant more scorching spice for Eclipse, which he was happy about. The seven foot tall animatronic excitedly got in line. The thought of his nachos made him bounce on the balls of his feet excitedly. So much so that he failed to notice his new coworker in line right in front of him. But Caro was fully aware.

“Interviewee!” she excitedly called from Eclipse’s shoulder.

You and Eclipse jumped at the sudden shout. Hesitantly, you turned to see the source of the sound. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you looked up to see your new coworkers. Minding the other eyes staring, you began to converse with them. “Ah—hello you two. Eclipse and Caro, right?”

The two nodded their heads. “Right you are, dear,” Eclipse answered. He curiously eyed you, “Say…what’re you doing around here? Not that we mind, do forgive me. But, last I checked, we don’t see you until tomorrow morning.”

Caro gasped. “You’re right! What’re you doing here newbie?” she asked you.

You swallowed down a laugh as the two animatronics prodded you to answer. “I’m here with my little brother, Gregory!”

His small friend jumped off his shoulder. “I gotta go!”

Caro's burst nearly makes your eyes pop out of their sockets. The taller animatronic scrambling to reach for her.

“Hey! Where are you running off to?” he called out to her.

“I got a ping from Sun! I'll be back!” she hollered back as she wove her way through guests.

Eclipse sighed. “Well, uhm...where were we…Right! Where's your little yoot at?”

Your hand pointed towards a booth. There, Gregory sat while swinging his legs. Happily munching on a slice of pizza, blissfully unaware of the set of eyes on him.

“Aww, he's a darling one,” your coworker commented. “He takes after you, I suppose.”

The line continued to move as the two of you talked.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

The animatronic hesitated for a moment. “You both have a certain disposition…hmm...Happy? Content? Generally positive I'd say.”

Your brow raised curiously, “Do we now?”

He nodded, glancing back at your brother. “Yes, you both may look different, but I can tell the two of you are siblings. The way you carry yourselves is what nails it down. Why, I can picture you eating that pizza. Take me and my brothers for example. While physically I match Sun more, my personality is more like Moon's. We both have a sort of calm air about us. I'm sure our first run-in was evident of that,” he chuckled to himself.

A snort escaped you. “Hard to argue with such compelling evidence...I guess I forget to notice the way I carry myself,” you admitted.

The line drew you both closer to the front counter.

“I’m sorry, dear, I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious,” he apologized with a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh—! No you didn't, really! I just don't pay much attention to myself is all—haha,” nervous laughter creaked out of your mouth.

You weren't much of a conversationalist either. Your nervousness clearly showed as you tried to remain calm. What a great first impression this was.

Eclipse seemed to notice your unease, taking away his hand as he inspected you with his optics. He took your word as true. You had bags under your eyes, a faint purple hue dusting them. Your hair a mess, and…was that a grain of rice on your cheek?

“Come here, you have a little something over there,” he motioned his cheek with his hand.

You squeaked in embarrassment, quickly brushing the spot. “Did I get it?” not noticing the grain was still there.

Your coworker smiled. “No, here let me just...” he trailed off. He chuckled as he leaned down, “Silly.” His metallic finger tip made contact with your skin.

His comment was enough to have you feel sparks from your face to the roots of your hair. The gesture alone could set you on fire. Your eyes shut from embarrassment as you felt him gently swipe at the grain. Giving you a satisfied hum, he pulled away.

“There we are, spick and span,” he complimented as he dusted off your shoulder.

The line moved once more. It was your turn to order, but you were wrapped up in staring at your coworker. He maintained eye contact with you, curiously eyeing your face for any other grains. Satisfied when he saw nothing else, he darted his eyes off to the side before looking into yours once more.

“...Do I have something on my face?” he questioned.

“N-no! Uhm…” you trailed off.

“Next in line please,” the staff bot snapped you out of your thoughts.

Shaking the embarrassment off, you walked up to the counter. “Hello! Can I please get two ice cream cones? One vanilla and one neapolitan?”

The staff bot nodded its head and pressed some things into the register screen. “Will that be all for you today?” it asked.

“Yes, please,” you nodded, reaching for your card.

Eclipse snatched your wallet. “Ah-ah—employees eat for free here. Didn't they tell you that?”

You gasped excitedly. “You're right! I can't believe I forgot Pansy mentioned that!” You turned back to the staff bot before quickly whipping your head back to Eclipse. “How—how do I show that I'm an employee? I don't have my name tag with me.”

Your colleague chuckled, glancing down at the blue accessory on your wrist. “You have your daycare watch on, don't you?”

You were immediately thankful you remembered to bring it along with you, but feeling silly you forgot you had it, you tapped at its screen. Flipping through different faces, you landed on your employee ID. Scrolling down did nothing. But when you swiped to the side, the little digital card flipped to show a barcode.

“Do I show them this?” you questioned Eclipse. Making sure to reach your wrist up high enough so he can see.

He delicately held your hand. “Correct!” Giving a pleased nod, he gently brought your hand back to you.

Your excitement bubbled as you showed the staff bot your digital ID. It stared at it briefly before grabbing a hand scanner. The red led light made contact, showing the transfer was complete with a beep.

“Employee number 1-b-987, a pleasure to meet you. I will be right back with your order,” the staff bot disappeared to the back all without turning its back to you.

“PeyPey, please just ping me the next time you want me here,” Caro whispered as she cuddled up with him in the blankets.

You took this moment to examine your coworker. He was true to his word. While his warm color palette and sunny rays were reminiscent of his brother, Sun, his demeanor wasn't like his at all. Sun was, well, very sunny. A literal ball of sunshine. Eager, peppy, joyful, it was enough to make you smile at the memory of your first meeting. Eclipse was more reserved, calm. You haven't had the chance to fully meet Moon beforehand. The only instance being when he apologized for his brother's behavior and quickly introduced himself and the others. Eclipse hasn't lied to you yet, so you could only assume Moon really was as similar.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Her boyfriend chuckled as he pulled her in closer. “I will.” His smile widening as he stared into her eyes, “You're really pretty.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh, and you're very handsome and pretty and sweet and loving,” she rambled. “But stupid.”

The small animatronic choked on his air. “Nuh-uh, nuh-uh.”

Sun had been sitting on his bed, messing around with a little puzzle cube a child gifted him. “Yea, listen to your girlfriend,” he suggested.

Moon was sitting beside him, watching him fiddle with the piece of plastic, “I agree.”

PeyPey groaned before laughing sheepishly, “Is it because I wanted to go looking for you with only five percent?”

Caro nodded, her eyes never leaving him. “You need to take better care of yourself,” she frowned.

The small animatronic shifted in the nest of blankets. “I will, I'll try to be better, I'm sorry.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She sat up and turned her attention to the twins before her. “Can one of you two get me an order of nachos? The same way Eclipse gets them?”

Moon lifted himself off the bed. “Swimming in hot sauce with jalapeños?” he questioned with a stretch.

She nodded, “Yea! Oh and please tell the interviewee I said sorry, I ran off in the middle of a conversation with them.”

Sun sprang up and nearly tripped over himself, “They're here?? Now??” His lunar brother rubbed his side that he bumped into.

Caro smugly eyed the excited animatronic. “Yessir, they're in the food court with Eclipse.

Chatting up a storm.”

Moon bowed his head, glancing up at his brother. “Well, safe to assume you're coming with me?” he grinned.

Sun excitedly nodded and grabbed hold of his brother's hand. “We'll be back, Caro!” He raced off with Moon catching up to his pace, hand in hand.

PeyPey chuckled. “I think your snack is gonna be a while.”

His girlfriend laughed and cuddled into his embrace. “I don't mind. Now get some rest.”

You stood by with your ice cream cones in hand, talking it up with your coworker as he waited for his order. You learned that he was the youngest of his brothers. The completion for his model was a week after his two brothers were finished. So, by a technicality, Moon and Sun were twins. He was their little brother. But, neither of his older brothers viewed it this way. To them, they were all the same age. Might as well be given the fact they were all checked off as public ready on the same day.

Her boyfriend hummed and held her tighter. “Yes, boss.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“The day I met them, they were so ecstatic. I could really feel their electricity, you know,” Eclipse reminisced.

He looked longingly at his own hands. “I was so scared, petrified even. The idea that I was to become this extravagant entertainer. It made my casings shake. But, everything came easy once I finally got to meet my brothers,” his hands clasping together.

You smiled at his story, a warm feeling in your chest.

“Sun and Moon…I can't imagine a day without them. I spent my first activation days alone in an empty room. Nobody would talk to me, not even the mechanics. And when I did get to talk to somebody, it was great news! It was Pansy who told me I'd be meeting bots like me—brothers even! Sun was so kind and patient, and Moon was so gentle and made sure I was comfortable in the space I was in. I couldn't have asked for better brothers…Don't tell them I said that, they won't let me live it down,” he laughed and gave you a playful tap on your shoulder.

A whistle fell from your mouth. “I won't tell a soul,” smiling up at him with your proclamation.

His laughter hummed in his chest, “My brothers mean everything to me. They're the reason I can do anything at all. Sun gave me optimism and Moon gave me confidence. One day, I'll pay it back to them. I'll find a way to repay them for everything they've done for me,” he said to himself mainly, but to you as well.

You also learned that Eclipse wouldn't be getting his own smaller friend. It just wasn't planned. PeyPey was assigned to Sun initially, but later on signed off to Eclipse as well. Caro was assigned to Moon exclusively. Each pairing has a special server that allows for exclusive connection and remote controlling. Of course, neither brother felt comfortable enough to use the remote option. Eclipse explained it felt wrong and immoral. Rightfully so. They weren't keen on keeping secrets either. The only time that had ever happened was when Caro had developed feelings for Peypey and would spam Moon's notifications with messages.

Eclipse laughed. “You'd think they were made for each other wouldn't you?”

You urgently nodded, excited to hear more of their pasts.

He sighed. “Truth be told, she was programmed to be Moon's girl.”

You dropped your cones. “Huh?!” A gasp slipped from your mouth as your eyes shot down to your fallen desserts.

Your colleague rumbled with laughter as he reached for napkins. Leaning down, he made quick work of the mess.

“Does that mean PeyPey was supposed to…?” you trailed off in thought as you watched him clean.

“Be with Sun? Nope. The initial idea for our group was to be the guys band. Be the sort of all male talent engine, y’know? Caro wasn't supposed to be able to play any instruments, she was supposed to play the role of Moon's ‘lovely lady.’ Chime in on a few songs here and there. And, I suppose it worked like that for a while. But, neither her nor Moon liked it,” Eclipse sucked in a gulp of air through his teeth. He stood tall.

“Management wouldn't listen to either of them. It became a weekly visit to parts and services for the two of them,” He looked down at the floor. “Constant rewiring…it was awful. I couldn't stand seeing their forced smiles.”

You placed a gentle hand on his, urging him to continue.

A smile crept up on his face. “Sun and PeyPey changed everything. My brother taught Caro how to play guitar, even went out of his way to find internet videos about other instruments and how to play them. PeyPey used all of his free time on Moon and Caro. Showing them ways to calm down and prevent any more visits to parts and services. Pretty soon, PeyPey started developing feelings for her. Just in time too, management couldn't keep up with Moon and Caro. They ultimately decided to give the two and the rest of us free will,” he triumphantly stated.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Eclipse. I feel honored that you view me as someone you can tell this to.” Your cheeks warm as you give him the most genuine smile he's seen from you.

“And thank you for listening! I didn't mean to ramble that much—you have a really welcoming air about you,” he comments with a spin of his rays.

“Interviewee!” an outburst rang from behind the two of you.

Both of your heads swivel as Sun and Moon make their way to the two of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Eclipse teases you with a gentle jab to your shoulder. You snicker and playfully shove him.

Speak of the devil indeed.

TAGLIST WEEE!!

@cosmog-mcgee

@antwithwaffles

End of the second chapter!! Similar to the previous chapter, my good friend, MY BOOBOOBEAAAAR @by-the-chapel-gates was my beta reader!!💖💝💘:D Many thanks goes to her!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as well!💖💝GRACIAS!!!💖💝Please leave your thoughts below!

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kpop-fanatic-lover16 · 2 years ago

Text

Ratchet - Jay Park

Pairing: Enhypen Jay x fem!reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, suggestiveness

Warnings: blood, abuse, rival enemies

Word count: 6.7k

Synopsis: Y/n a highschool girl who grew up in and enjoys her parents garage, is met with an abused rich popular boy, Jay, who's made her life a living hell, what happens when the two of them discover that their rivalry had something else behind it and they aren't as mad about as they thought?

♡

Dirty concrete flooring and the smell of oil filled your nostrils the moment you stepped into your family's car garage. A few older run-down cars sat in the back of the workshop, their only use being that for spare parts and scrap metal. The sound of a compressor releasing air and a blow torch firing up drew your attention to where there might be people. Hauling your backpack back onto your shoulder into a better position reminded you why you were in here.

"Dad?" you called. When there was no response, you had to step off the two steps up into the retail portion of the building and down on to the garage floor. With an experienced step in moving your way around cars and over them, you made your way to where the people were. "Dad?" you called again.

"He's working on the Mercades, Kiddo!" answered one of the mechanics, more specifically the one controlling the air compressor.

With the new information, you left the garage and went back to the garage specifically for cars owned by the rich. It wasn't as hard to find and maneuver yourself around this garage considering your dad only worked on a handful of expensively owned cars. And just like you were told, your dad was in there, standing under the raised car, working on the steering wheel system.

"Dad!" you called to him. He fixed his attention from the pipes he was working on over to you.

A smile lit up his lips at the sight of you, "Hey, there's my girl!"

"Dad," you said, coming up next to him. "Have you seen the keys to my car? I'm running late for school and the last place I remember putting them was on the counter in the back storage room."

"Oh, you won't be needing those keys anymore."

"What do you mean?" you gave him an inquisitive look to match his pointed one. After a few more seconds, you understood what he was getting at. Excitement rushed through you as you bounded over for the other side of the garage to look at the car you'd been working on since you were little. The 1970s Cadillac convertible sat all cleaned up and glittering under the rising sun with its fresh vanilla cream-colored paint.

"You should take it to school this morning. After all it's the first day back after break." your dad held out the keys for you to take. Laughter erupted from his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his embrace. He held you against him tightly and spun you around once. Once he realized the hug had lasted a little too long and he was keeping you from school, he set you down and handed you the keys.

"Thank you," you sighed out against him in one final hug. He warned you to not get dirty right before school, but you didn't care in the slightest.

The roaring sound of the engine purred underneath you as you glided your palms over the soft leather of the steering wheel, getting a feel of her for the first time running alive. Another rush of excitement pulsed through you before you backed her out of the garage and with one last wave to your dad, drove to school with ten minutes left to spare.

Once you were at school, dread filled you. The sight of your arch nemesis parked in your usual spot did not sit well with you considering you paid for that parking spot for the year. Due to the time, you had to pull into a non-paid parking spot and settle for that until after school. You did not miss the surprise on his face at your new ride and the words he shared with his friends, who for once seemed to be interested in what he had to say regarding you.

"Jay Park!"

"Well, well," he drew out his words when you walked up. The sight of your arms crossed and a scowl on your face lit a spark inside him. It gave him a buzz for his next words, "If it isn't the infamous car thief."

You dismissed his lame roast and looked behind you at his car. "Your sorry excuse for a ride is in my paid parking spot."

"Sorry excuse?" he repeated, faking shocked offense. His gray colored Bugatti was not under your belt of favored cars considering you didn't like the style of them, and they looked like a rich person who squanders those around them. "I don't remember asking for your unprofessional opinion."

"I will have it towed." you threatened seriously, hearing the bell in the distance ring. Great, now you were going to be written up for a tardy. Jay laughed harshly, glancing back at the popular kids of his group as if to say he didn't believe you one bit.

"I dare you," he challenged. He took slow steps until he was in front of you, leaning down to your height to belittle you even further. The sour feeling in your stomach didn't go unnoticed by you as he glared down at you, "If you tow my car, I will personally make your life a living hell. So, I dare you. Go ahead and tow my car, or even better, why don't you tow it yourself."

The hushed o's came flooding from behind him as a proud smirk lit up his face.

A little backstory on your relationship with Jay Park. Back when you were a freshman, you met Jay in a math class. He was very shy and closed off then which is why you were drawn to him in the first place. Maybe you would've gotten close if the two of you weren't so shy at that age.

Differences and insecurities pushed him away from you right as you started to peek from your shell. When he hit puberty and became known as one of the boys at school with the most stunning visuals, he was snatched by the popular group. They fed him lies about everyone around him, including you. He became mean after only being with them for one semester. His behavior worsened when you started to care about how you looked and began to look beautiful. All the boys drooled over you, including himself, but you didn't let that fly.

One day during that year, he cornered you in the hallway to ask you out. He remembers the scoff you gave him and the roll of your eyes.

"Are you serious?" you deadpanned not believing the situation you were in.

Jay, trying his best to convince you, placed his forearm on the wall, trapping you slightly under his gaze and body. Your breath hitched softly not because your heart was throbbing for him, but because you were uncomfortable in this position. The strong scent of his cologne filled your senses. For every other female in your school, it would cloud their head and dull their senses while their brains tried to register that the Jay Park was standing in front of them, wanting them. For you, it woke you up and sharpened your senses, pushing you away from his unwanted attention.

"Say yes," he practically begged. Suddenly, he was looking at you as if he was a different person trapped inside the monster popularity made him into. Eyes gentle and patient. Maybe his old self was still in there and being snuffed out by those around him. Your heart almost said yes but that was right before you remembered what he said to you this morning on a note you found on your desk.

As soon as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him off of you, Jay knew he'd lost. To level your calm, you took a deep breath. You almost didn't say anything, opting to leave him standing in the hallway alone. But those eyes...

"Jay," you looked at him, seeing his eyes harden ever so slightly. "You can't compare me to a junkyard in the morning and tell me I'm the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on in the afternoon. That's not how this works. So just drop it."

In desperation, he grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking away. Jay overestimated you as you yanked your hand free of his grip the next second.

You were now staring daggers into him, "Leave me alone, Jay."

Now he stood in front of you with hatred in his heart for wounding his pride and confidence from so long ago and also due to the lies he's been fed. What Jay seemed to forget about you was how you were determined to make things right if they were wrong. So, when he came out of school once the day was over and found that his car was gone, a rage he's never felt overcame him.

"Well," Jake, one of Jay's better friends, began awkwardly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "She's bold, I'll give her that."

"Shut up," Jay grumbled darkly, looking around the parking lot to see if he could spot you. When he realized your car was gone, he knew he just missed you. His insides turned over at the thought of having to go get his car back. To most it wasn't that big of a deal, but Jay would have to deal with domestic consequences. More than anything, that terrified him. He didn't even know where his car had been towed.

"Hey," Sunghoon, another good friend, called out from his Bronco. Jay looked over at him to see him holding up a note. With a quick step, Jay was in front of Sunghoon with the note in his own hands.

I towed it myself.

"She actually towed it?" Heeseung, the last friend, asked, referring to the note in Jay's hand. The boys waited for Jay to answer but got no response as he simply crumpled the note and threw it on the ground. Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jake watched him get in the passenger side of Sunghoon's Bronco and slam the door shut.

"I guess we'll see you later." Sunghoon said to Heeseung and Jake who nodded a goodbye before making their way over to Jake's car. Sunghoon wordlessly got into the driver's side and put his seatbelt on. When he looked over at Jay, the boy was staring down at his phone with anger radiating off of him. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" Jay snapped; eyes glued to his phone as he brainlessly scrolled through his socials.

"Build yourself up in an ugly way in front of her and be little her? Obviously, she's not afraid to challenge you. If you have an issue with her just talk to her about it."

"Oh whatever," Jay grunted. He turned his phone off and buckled himself into the seat. "She's just stepping up her game."

Sunghoon stared at him blankly. Silence passed for about thirty seconds before Jay looked at Sunghoon once more. He raised his eyebrows silently asking him why he was just staring at him. Sunghoon shook his head at the boy and turned on the car.

"So where did she tow it?"

Jay shifted uncomfortably. "Her parent's garage."

Later that evening, you were settled up on changing car brakes. The garage was getting ready to close and those who worked during the day had gone home. It was just you and your dad that stayed behind to work on a few extra things during the last few hours of opening. Sometimes even after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, you stayed into the late hours of the night, working on older cars for fun. Most kids your age would be out partying or watching movies into late hours of the night, but you liked to keep busy in the silence of the garage.

Though today, you weren't here because you wanted to be. You were waiting to see if Jay would show up. If he didn't show up to get his car you knew his parents would find out and there would be serious consequences. You knew something happened at home, something bad. Some days he would show up to school with bruises and scratches on his face.

You didn't care if he chose the consequences. If he wanted to act all high and mighty while walking on you then he could it.

A soft ring from the bell in the store caught your ear. The sound of your dad's voice greeted whoever had walked in and laughter was shared. You recognized the laugh belonging to Jake, Jay's friend. You stopped twisting your C wrench that was clamped down on the caliper, which had expanded slowly as the brake pad became thinner through use, to push the brake fluid back through the pipes and listened. When you heard footsteps coming to the back and into the garage, you ducked back down and went back to what you had been doing.

"Just right over here," you heard your dad say. It prompted you to peek in their direction knowing Jake was here but not knowing if Jay was with him. His eyes were boring holes into you the instant you caught his eyes. Since your dad didn't know about your relationship with Jay, he walked the two boys through the garage and over to where Jay's car was parked.

"Thank you," Jake said kindly, handing the keys to Jay who took them. Anyone who didn't know Jay would not have seen the aggression when he took the keys from Jake, but you most certainly did. It made you chuckle inside and your heart spark with a flame.

"Let me know if there's anything else we can do for you." your dad smiled, walking Jay over the raised garage door and out into the parking lot after Jay drove his car out. Jake responded kindly and got into his own car to follow Jay out and back where they came from. A throat clearing made you look up. Your dad was peering down at you. "I almost asked to take a ride in his Bugatti."

You only smiled at him as he walked back into the store to help someone else who came in while he was otherwise occupied.

The next morning in your very first class, you saw it. The darkening bruise on the right side of his jaw accompanied by a wound on the outer edge of his lip. Nothing else was wounded on Jay's face, however that didn't mean that underneath his leather jacket there weren't more wounds. When he sat down carefully with calculated moves you knew immediately that he was injured.

A small voice deep inside you scoffed and the devil angel on your shoulder said slyly, "Serves him right." but the angel on your other shoulder felt a little guilty. Guilty for the surprise waiting in his locker.

You knew when it happened too. Practically the entire student body was standing in the hallway when it happened. Gasps followed by different levels of laughter broke out in the hallway after witnessing Jay's front get splattered with oil. The shock on his face made another spark ignite in you. Sure, the act was childish, but if Jay wanted to act like a middle school bully, then so be it.

Two for you. One for Jay.

"Woah!" Jake cried when the oil sprayed out, receiving a small amount of the oil on him as well. Jake's eyes scanned the oil from under Jay's jaw, down his front, and on the floor. Jay glanced around at the students walking by as embarrassment flooding his body. Then his eyes locked on you and the towel in your hand. He caught it when you threw it at him.

"You have a little something on you," you said, walking by him with a smirk on your face.

Rage filled him and he snatched you by your bicep and dragged you through the sea of students down the hall and into the boy's bathroom where he slammed you up against the wall just inside the door. For someone who'd just been beaten the night previous, he seemed to still have his strength. You couldn't tell if his clenched jaw was to bite back a groan of pain or to show how mad he was.

"You've got a lot of nerve," his voice was laced with poison to match his death grip on your shoulders. His eyes almost looked like they were glowing red adorned with his furrowed eyebrows. It scared you slightly since he's never been this rough with you before. Despite his feelings never changing on how beautiful you were to him, your attitude sure made up for it.

"Don't act like you didn't see this coming," you fired back with a bite to your words. "I'm not going to let you walk all over me as if I'm dust!"

Jay pulled you back and slammed you against the wall again, "You don't get to humiliate me!"

"That hurts!" you screamed in his face.

"Good!" he screamed back. Raging anger made you snake your arms between the two of you and shove his arms outward to rid his hold on you. Once his hold on you was gone you shoved him back as hard as you could, watching him hit the wall behind him with a groan.

"What did I ever do to you? Are you still butt hurt over the fact that I rejected you? Maybe we should go over why you target me for absolutely no reason!"

"Absolutely no reason? Everyone was right about you!" Jay barked out getting up in your face. He was changing the subject, so he didn't break in front of you. What if you found out he still wanted you? You'd never let him live for it. "You're a piece of trash, Y/n!"

Lies.

Your heart was beating so rapidly that you felt your blood pressure rising at a dangerous pace. Jay saw the fire in your eyes and was provoked by it even more. You jabbed a finger into his chest hard, "No, you are the trash, Jay! I was wrong to think you were an innocent kid! No, your true self is an angry monster who bullies people to make him feel better about himself and his miserable life. You belittle me because that's all you feel at home!"

Now you were pressed up against the wall again, this time with his nails digging into your skin. His voice was so low, you stopped talking, "Don't. You. Dare. Talk about what my life is like at home. You know nothing. Your little stunt yesterday gave me a trip to hell, and you think you have the unmitigated gall to act as if you know my life?"

"Jay, let go," you told him, afraid of what he might do. Since you've never seen Jay this angry and had no way of knowing how unpredictable he could be when raging like this, it was best for the two of you to step back.

His eyes were clouded over and his grip tightened slightly. Jagged breaths escaped him while you waited for him to calm down. In seconds, his eyes unclouded and he looked down at his nails digging into your arms.

Instantly he released you, not meeting your eyes. "Sorry."

"Look," you sighed out, rubbing the area he irritated with his nails to soothe the skin. "It's not fair that you've made your own impression of me based off of what other people have told you. I have never done anything to you. Have I ever given you a good reason to hate me?"

Jay kept his gaze to the floor.

"Have I ever?" you repeated. Jay shook his head after a moment. You never lied to him about who you were and how you acted. Not once.

Another sigh escaped you. You gathered your forgotten bag on the floor a ways from you and peeked over your shoulder at him to see he was still staring at the floor with a blank face, the oil on his clothes now stained. Without another word, you opened the door into an empty hall and left him there with his thoughts.

As the weeks carried on, Jay hadn't bothered you since your encounter in the bathroom. He even stopped some of his other friends from throwing snarky comments at you. Not to get on your good side but because he realized how wrong he was treating you. And more so the realization he had in himself when he attacked you with blind anger like his dad often did to him. That was the last thing he wanted. He still hated you, just silently.

One day when you were walking across the athletic field to get to the parking lot from your last class, you noticed a group off in one of the corners. As you grew closer you recognized some of them. Heeseung, and Jake were among the group, and they had noticed you before anyone else.

"Hey," one of the other boys spoke. "Isn't that the loser Jay hates?"

They were startled when you stopped and turned to them. Heeseung and Jake spared each other glances, knowing your spunk. They saw it coming before anyone else did. Everyone was even more startled when you changed your course and started to walk over to them. They watched you walk all the way over, crossing your arms over your chest with eyebrows raised.

"What did you call me?" you said as if you were daring them to say it again. They shared surprised looks, wondering just exactly who you were to be challenging them. Nobody at school dared to have an attitude or speak to them without being spoke to.

"Does that hurt your feelings?" one of them challenge with a sappy mocking whine. The sound of him made you scoff. Then you dropped your bag down to the bright green grass of the football field. Heeseung and Jake watched with more surprised and horror, not wanting to see where this went. Certain popular kids weren't to be messed with. Everyone knew that. You did too, but you weren't afraid even if they could hurt you.

"How bout I hurt your face," you snapped back, shoving him out of your face. One thing your dad taught you was to not take anyone's crap. Especially if they were treating you less than you deserved.

"You asked for it," he scoffed, raising a hand to beat you over the face, but before you could stop him someone appeared in front of you catching the other boy's hand. Jay.

Jay was merely inches away from you with his back to you. He was only staring at your attacker blocking them from hurting you. It's as if he was challenging him to take another hit. After so many years, he finally saw how wrong they were treating everyone, and he was done being a puppet. Jake and Heeseung stepped forward a bit, shaking their head at Jay to walk away.

"Go," Jay looked back at you. When you didn't move, he repeated it more firmly, "Y/n, go!"

His tone has your feet moving before your head realizes what's happening. You expected to defend yourself and get them to stop talking about you, that's why you walked over there in the first place. They didn't know of the wrench in your backpack. But when Jay stepped in, you did not expect him to defend you. It's like he knew something you didn't and stepped in before things got bad. You almost wanted to wait and make sure he was okay, but you decided against it and got in your car to drive to the garage.

The thoughts of the afternoon carried with you while you were working and into the late night. You were under your third car, cleaning some pipes when the thoughts came back into your head. A sigh left you as you dropped your arms to allow the thoughts to flow. You'd been fighting them for a while, trying to not feed into them.

"It's not like I can text him," you said to yourself aloud. "That'd be weird."

After a few more minutes of thinking you went back to scrubbing the pipes. Normally you wouldn't be doing this, but it was on somebody's expensive car, and they wanted it in top condition when they came to pick it up in the morning. The garage was empty at this hour leading very late into the night. All you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Not wiping pipes that should be dirty. It's a car for crying out loud.

Just as you lowered your arms for the fifth time, the sound of something banging rapidly on one of the garage doors scared you to your core. With a fast pace you rolled out from under the vehicle and stared at the garage doors, terrified. Thinking it was someone just trying to get late business, you ignored it still paralyzed in place.

Bang, bang, bang!

Maybe it was your dad. Cautiously, you got up and went over to the door that was shaking and grabbed the hook at the bottom of the door to pull it up. You pulled it up until you felt it get too tall for your extended arm, revealing the person on the other side.

You gasped, "Oh my–"

Jay held his finger up to his lips to silence you, pushing you inside the garage and pulling the door back down to hide the both of you. He was bleeding on his forehead near his hairline, his nose, cheek, and out of his ears. His body was tense as his muscles spasmed to take pressure off injured areas.

"Jay–"

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he brokenly asked cutting you off again. His eyes were asking you desperately. Without a word you dashed off to grab the first aid kit from the back of the store. When you came back Jay was leaning against the wall on his left shoulder trying to stay up right.

"Come here," you said to him. He let you guide him over to one of the cars. He shook his head when you asked him to sit on the hood. "Sit."

"No," Jay declined, grunting at the pain. "My back hurts too much."

With a defeated sigh, you hopped up on the hood of the car to give you some height. Jay leaned against the car to keep him up right while you got to work on cleaning the blood up under his ears. He turned to the side to let you get the blood running down his neck. He was fighting hard to stay upright.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" your tone was gentle, not pushing him to say anything. Jay only stayed quiet. He looked into your eyes when you gently placed a hand on his jaw to turn him back to face you. Only when you started working on his left eyebrow did you return the eye contact.

"I didn't know where else to go," he murmured. You faltered slightly in dabbing his eyebrow. It strangely made you feel warm inside that he thought to come to you. No matter how warm it felt, you shouldn't be feeling it with your arch nemesis.

"Close your eyes."

He listened, shutting his eyes so you could clean up underneath his other eyebrow. With his eyes closed, he felt you dab and smooth over creams and ointments. He felt your legs caging his hips, the feeling of your outer thighs against his wrists as he propped himself upright with the help of the car. The feeling of a caring light touch brought tears to his eyes. He cursed himself internally when a tear slipped out from underneath his closed eye. It didn't go unnoticed, but you didn't say anything.

Jay opened his eyes at your request when you were finished, another tear falling, (which he caught this time) and watched as you were prepping more cotton. Next you mended his knuckles which you assumed were injured because he fought back against his attacker.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," Jay said suddenly. The words came out soft, his eyes staring down at your lap. His sudden apology had you confused and warmed you up even more. Why was this happening? Why were you feeling this way over the boy who'd made your life a living hell for the last three years. More importantly, why were you helping him?

You heaved a sigh, "I'll be honest, I'm confused as to what you're getting at here."

Jay pulled his hands away from you and straightened up. HIs body was back to being close off and his eyes were cold. That's when you regretted your words.

"Truth be told, I'm not getting at anything." Jay replied bluntly. Now he remembered why you got on his nerves so much. Why did he defend you on the field in the first place? The two of you weren't meant to live peacefully alongside each other. But somewhere deep inside him, did he truly want that? Is that why he came to you during his vulnerable state?

When he wouldn't give you his hands to continue your cleaning, you dropped your arms into your lap and stared at him. Jay was different from any person you knew, and that's what drove you crazy. You thought he was a shy innocent kid like you, but he wasn't. What drove you even crazier was despite him being different you couldn't figure him out. All you knew was when to spot his good mood and bad mood. When to strike and when to lay back.

"I shouldn't have come here," he said more to himself. Instantly, you snatched his wrist to stop him from leaving.

"Jay, stop," you pleaded, apologetically loosening your grip on his arm after he grunted in pain. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just surprised is all. I mean, you did defend me today from being hit, and now you're here with me, alone, in this garage, letting me bandage up your wounds. It's a little shocking coming from you," a sigh heaved from his chest as he looked down, not wanting to look at you. "I'm just not used to the feeling of you caring. I'm not used to the feeling inside my chest that's the exact opposite of hatred."

"So, you do or do not hate me?" Jay was still looking down. Inside you wanted to scream and rip your hair out at his stubbornness. He really did get under your skin. How could he be likeable and dislikeable all at once? It was a great talent of his.

"Not currently," came your reply. Now he was looking at you, and the look he was giving you was making your legs shake and your heart squeeze. Your stomach did a flip as his hands came up to cup right under your jawline before he pressed his lips against yours in a short peck. Now your heart was beating at the speed of light.

"How about now?" he whispered, pulling back ever so slightly to look into your eyes. It's as if your body had a mind of its own as you leaned up and pecked his lips, wanting to feel that feeling again. The feeling of your heart jumping to your throat and your skin lighting ablaze. The second you pulled back; his lips were on yours again. He didn't care about the pain in his lips or back, screaming at him to halt. All he cared about was you against him and the euphoria it brought him.

Neither of you remembered the horrible words you'd said to each other or the actions and humiliation you both suffered at the hands of each other. All you could think about was how good it felt. How good his lips felt against yours, how good the feeling of his hands on your body made you feel, how he was lighting your body on fire. And Jay could say the same. Your hands in his hair with your legs wrapped around his hips so you could press your front into his, desperately trying to get closer, to feel the burn.

His lips pulled off of yours, instead tracing down your neck and front, leaning you back so he could kiss your collarbones tenderly, slowly, dragging out the moment a bit longer. Once he was finished at your collarbones, he came back up to your lips and kissed you, hard. Soaking into your lips like it was his new addiction, his want, his need. When you needed air, you pulled back, letting him trail back down your neck. Unconsciously, your body rose up higher with every kiss, wanting him to be close, wanting to give him all of you.

"Jay," you whispered into his ear with your hands still in his hair. He hummed deeply against your throat, peppering light kisses on your skin before he pulled back, giving you his full attention, "You're hurt, let's not take it too far."

His heart didn't want to, but his head nodded, untangling himself from your hold. Still in a haze, you leaned up again and pecked his lips to give him some assurance. When he pulled away and stepped back a few paces with a smile on his face, you knew. He still had feelings for you, even after you rejected him. Now what were you going to say? You made out with him quite heatedly making you wonder just how long you had liked him back.

"Now that we've broken ties," Jay began to say with a smirk on his face. His arms wrapped around your waist as he endearingly looked into your eyes. They flashed with vulnerability with his next words, "Will you work on my back?"

A small smile was all he gave you as he turned around and took off his leather jacket. Deep dark blood stains in the shapes of slashes covered his back. Fear overcame you at the sight. Who had done this? This wasn't the Victorian Age.

Slowly, you helped him out of his bloodied shirt and instead, went to go grab some chairs from the office. He needed to sit down while you attempted to clean these wounds. Jay sat with his back facing you, and you had to be honest, you were scared. Scared to hurt him, scared for him, scared he'd been in more danger even after you bandaged the wounds. Through your touches he could feel that you were more apprehensive.

"I was surprised with how creative they got," Jay mumbled while you worked. You listened intently, wanting to know how he came to be in this state. "I didn't even know you could get a flogging whip so easily. I would have had less slashes, but I couldn't let them hurt Heeseung and Jake."

Jay still remembers his friends shouts and cries. Their voices breaking as they screamed his name, screaming for him to fight back and yelling to be released to help him. Especially from Heeseung who put up a good fight to try and save Jay.

"So you took all of the beatings for them?" your voice was barely above a whisper. Jay's body rose and fell gently with every breath and his skin reacted to each touch you gave him.

"And you."

His words made you stop altogether. Jay glanced behind his left shoulder to see why you had stopped. When he saw that you paused halfway into applying some ointment, he turned back and stared at the floor. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. After all this moment for the two of you was proving to be overwhelming already. He wondered if you liked him like he did you. Jay only realized he still liked you a lot after the bathroom incident.

Instead of chewing him out for being selfless enough to take away others pain, you laid a small kiss to his left shoulder, "Thank you, Jay."

After about two more hours, Jay left to go home. The two of you parted with one more long kiss and a smile. You hoped to see him in the morning for school, but deep down you worried that things would be different. After all, no one else had just witness the change in your relationship.

The next morning, Jay only popped into school to pick up his work for the week. Because he was attacked, he chose to visit the doctor the next morning and was put on bed rest while he healed. Heeseung accompanied him to help carry everything.

"Y/n!" Jay called your name from down the hall. Glances went to you, wondering what he had up his sleeve to tick you off today. Little did they know. They were beyond shocked but not from the usual banter.

You returned the kiss he planted on your lips before continuing to shuffle through your locker. Things were changing for the two of you. There had been no reason to think otherwise. Even Heeseung was slightly surprised. Though he already listened to everything from Jay. Every ounce of lovesickness radiating from his friend. It's still shocked him though.

"Hi," you smiled, closing your locker and leaning against it. He smiled back at you, placing his hands on your waist. His heart flipped when your hands came up to rest on his neck, still mindful of his wounds. He would never get over the fact that you would let him hold you now. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am now after seeing your smile," he mumbled lowly. His lips came down to caress yours softly shocking everyone even more. This would be the talk for years to come. Two rival enemies turned to lovers overnight. The sheer thought of it was astounding to everyone. Though maybe they loved each other longer than they thought.

"Be mine," he said against your lips. Heeseung awkwardly moved away, turned around to look elsewhere. He could feel his cheeks burning. Okay so maybe he was having a hard time accepting the change, he was still happy for Jay.

"Are you asking me out?" you inquired, quirking and eyebrow at him. Jay only slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, his smile still plastered on his face. It's exactly what he was asking.

"Say yes," he repeated his words from so long ago. This time your answer was different from before, and you liked it much better. Jay was like a wrench. Twisting, turning, and screwing your heart around in circles. Hopefully he'd keep it tight this time and not let go of you.

"No," you said, shocking him. When he realized you were teasing him, he squeezed your waist harder and pressed his lips into a line with his eyebrows furrowing. The reaction made you laugh, blessing Jay's ears with the sound. "Jay, you don't even have to ask."

"OKAY!" Heeseung cried out with desperation seconds after Jay kissed you deeply as if to say thank you for giving him a chance. "We get it! You're together! For the love of my sanity, tone down the PDA! I'm practically going into shock."

All he got in return was a binder thrown at him.

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aorish · 11 months ago

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In any scam, any con, any hustle, the big winners are the people who supply the scammers – not the scammers themselves. The kids selling dope on the corner are making less than minimum wage, while the respectable crime-bosses who own the labs clean up. Desperate "retail investors" who buy shitcoins from Superbowl ads get skinned, while the MBA bros who issue the coins make millions (in real dollars, not crypto). It's ever been thus. The California gold rush was a con, and nearly everyone who went west went broke. Famously, the only reliable way to cash out on the gold rush was to sell "picks and shovels" to the credulous, doomed and desperate.

Cory Doctorow - Sympathy for the Spammer

#enshittification

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hzrnvm · 1 year ago

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I am actually curious, what IS your blog title refering to?

The Treachery of the Gerber Baby

This is the Gerber baby. Or, it is what is called "The Gerber Baby". It is the logo of the Gerber Products Company, known American baby supplies retailer and subsidiary of Nestle. As their logo, the sketch has appeared on most of Gerber's products since 1928, and has become a recognized symbol in America – enough that a survey from 70 years later, 1998, showed it to be associated with the highest consumer loyalty among the American public.

The Treachery of Images, also known as This Is Not a Pipe (a translation of its French text), is often regarded as one of Belgian surrealist René Magritte's best works. While it may seem absurd and confusing to some at first sight, the work is fundamentally pretty simple: it's making a statement on what it means to "be" an object, such as a pipe. Magritte himself is quoted as saying,

The famous pipe. How people reproached me for it! And yet, could you stuff my pipe? No, it's just a representation, is it not? So if I had written on my picture "This is a pipe", I'd have been lying!

Essentially, The Treachery of Images is claiming that what constitutes an object such as a pipe is not some immaterial hypothetical image of a pipe. Rather, a pipe consists of material substance that comes together to form an object that is a pipe. It can be stuffed, and it can be smoked. This painting is simply oil on a canvas, it is not a pipe! Oil on a canvas does not a pipe make.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back to The Gerber Baby. Now, you might be seeing a connection between the two topics I've brought up so far. You might even go so far at to claim "Hzrn, I've got it! I understand the meaning of your title now! You're alluding to The Treachery of Images to say that The Gerber Baby is, in fact, no such thing! It does not coo, it does not cry, it does not 'goo goo gaga'. You're implying that, to put it as Magritte would, 'Ceci n'est pas une bébé.'"

And to that I would respond "Yes, that is true! But do you really think that's all there is? I just allude to a well-known painting through a well-known logo, just to make the same point that the painting did?"

Now you're thinking. "Hmm..." you stare pensively and intently as you think to yourself. "I should have known she would have been smarter than that... Now what is so special about The Gerber Baby that she would choose it to make this allusion?"

And just like that, it comes to you.

The Gerber Baby is not just any old image of a baby. Its trademark owners flaunt it as "perhaps the most recognized baby face in the world". It's won the trust and loyalty of hundreds of millions of people. Everyone knows this baby – and through a mix of nostalgia and inborn biological systems motivating us to care for and about our own young, many, many people love this baby.

People are like this about many logos and mascots. People make references to them, as they are of course cultural figures. And people are not morally wrong in doing this. Mr. Clean. The green M&M. These are cultural figures, and they were manufactured to be so. It's the best free advertising. 3am in the Denny's parking lot. McDonald's sprite. The grimace shake.

You tell me your findings. "I've figured it out. The Gerber Baby, in your eyes, is the most ghoulish of the American advertising cultural figures. It directly preys on biological systems, it's effectively won at what it was trying to do — and every bit of the profit it made and continues to make from that success is going to Nestle, a corporation known to be especially evil."

You see me smile, and you know you're right as you continue. "Your title serves as not only a reminder of The Gerber Baby's nature, but a claim of what that means: Not only that Ceci n'est pas une bébé, but that it does not deserve your love."

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roguelov · 2 years ago

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(Not) Cursed

Summary: After a rough week of nothing going right, Dream pays you a visit tries to cheer you up

Word Count: ~1.8k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warning: Minor angst (general inconveniences and small outburst), mostly fluff

Requested by anon

The universe - in all of its grandiose schemes and of its intricate woven tales of fate - had ultimately put you on a path of misery.

Or at least, it seemed to be.

You were destined for a week, a tortuous long week, of the world completely set against you.

It all began with work - a simple retail job in a local clothing shop. Of course, like all jobs, there were ups and downs, however, this week was unbearably stressful. Firstly, the most volatile and rude customers seemed to have rallied together bombarding the shop and made it near impossible to help them or get a word in otherwise. So while other coworkers tried their best with customers, you decided to try to restock and reorganize the display shelves, which ended in more agony. You only succeeded in tripping and sending all the clothes all over the floor, and also managed to knock over a mannequin thus breaking one of its arms. After cleaning up said mess, you moved to work at the cash register. But, tragedy struck again. You were simply scanning in items, pressed a button okay a credit card, and the system completely crashed on you. It wouldn’t work no matter how much you pleaded, and your manager had to take over to complete the transaction.

You swore a curse was inflicted upon you. Whatever you touched would be ruined.

And your theory only proved to be more and more correct.

After a draining week at work and other unfortunate mishaps you encountered - traffic jams, spilled drinks, torn clothes, etc, you had to do some grocery shopping and decided to splurge a bit. You saw a tasty new recipe and bought all the necessary ingredients, along with a few other things to treat yourself with. But, the curse had already decided your next victim: your dinner.

Stumbling with groceries, you unlocked your apartment and fumbled inside. A few bags slipped from your grasp, and tumbled all of its contents out onto the once clean floor. Apples bruised, cans dented, and a bottle of soap busted leaking all over the floor.

You let out a frustrated groan. Setting the other bags onto the counter, you begrudgingly started to clean another mess added to this miserable, terrible week. You mumbled every curse under the sun as you cleaned up.

Damn this.

Damn everything.

After cleaning up the mess - and nearly slipping in the soapy bubbles - you put away everything and prepared to make dinner. But, your curse continued. A few more items were dropped and spilled in the process, which furthered your growing white hot anger. You gritted your teeth as your throat squeezed as you pushed back the need to cry and scream.

Fuck, it’s okay. I’m okay.

You chopped vegetables and began to cook them in a pan. You haphazardly moved around the kitchen collecting spices and seasoning while trying to put in the correct measurements.

Shit, what else? What am I missing?

You glanced over to your phone on the counter, rereading the recipe for the umpteenth time. You practically knew it by heart at this point, but you had to double check.

1 teaspoons, 1 ½ tablespoons, and okay -

You scrunched up your nose in disgust. You tilted your head back, inhaling deeply. An awful aroma filled the air, assaulting your senses. You wanted to choke. It was an awful aroma you knew well. Your eyes widened as you whipped around. Smoke clouded the air. The vegetables - your poor vegetables - were burning.

You scrambled over, turning off the stove and rushed the pan to the sink. The resound clang of the pan banging into the sink was your final straw. You numbly stared down to see your burnt diced vegetables. Burnt and ruined.

Ruined just like this week.

You sniffled then quickly squeezed your eyes shut.

Why? Why is everything going wrong?

You were so focused on drowning in your misery and distress, you failed to notice a peculiar thing happening in the living room behind you. Shadows stretched from underneath furniture and out of corners, pooling together. It swirled and swirled until it formed a mass. Stepping out of the shadows, with the sound sand pinging on the ground, a man appeared.

A man you knew dearly, and loved more than anything: Dream of the Endless, your loving Morphues.

Morpheus cocked his head, seeing your hunched figure in front of the sink. Your hands white knuckled the rim, nearly cutting into your palms. A faint scent of smoke filled his nose, but he thought nothing of it. There was no fire. So, his attention was solely on you - you and the dark cloud looming above your head.

“(Y/N)?”

“Fuck! What the hell do you want?” You hissed. But, you instantly froze. You blinked, realizing the source of the voice. You slowly spun around to see Morpheus now in your home. His eyebrows knitted together slightly given your outburst. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, Morpheus, I am so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Morpheus’s expression subtly returned back to its typical neutral state. “It’s okay. I startled you, I should have called before arriving.”

“No, no,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “I lashed out. I was frustrated and you popped in, so I unintentionally took it out on you.”

Morpheus strolled forward. His eyes casually peered around you to see the sink littered with charred ingredients. There was one explanation for your outburst. His eyes moved back to you. You still held your hands over your face as if blocking out the world. But, there had to be another reason. One mistake usually did not elicit such a response.

He reached up, and gently curled his fingers over your wrists. He slowly dragged your hands down so he could see your face. Tears prickled in your eyes. He frowned, a twitch of his lips. With his thumb, he carefully brushed away the tears that slid down your face.

“What bothers you?” He spoke softly, trying to comfort you.

You immediately leaned into his kind touch. “It … it has just been a rough week.”

“Tell me.” Taking your hands, he guided you over to the couch. He sat down first - measured and precise - while you flopped down in a huff. His hands, however, never left yours. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hands. “What has happened?”

You scoffed, a breathy sarcastic laugh. “What hasn’t happened? For starters, work has been awful. I swear everything I touched broke, not to mention all the rude customers that came through the shop.”

You sniffled, your throat constricted as you fought ferociously against the wave of tears. Morpheus - your sweet Morpheus - said not a word, listening intently and watching as your expression slowly fell.

“Then - then I had a list of chores I needed to do. But, the dishwasher - the stupid thing - broke and I hand-washed everything only to break more plates and bowls.” You dropped your head, and gripped Morpheus’s hands tighter. Fuck. Don’t cry, don’t cry. “Then I tried to make dinner only to burn it and - fuck.”

It truly all sounded idiotic and childish out loud.

Morpheus cupped your cheek with one hand, delicately tipping your head back. Seeing your red rimmed eyes, his heart clenched. How can he fix this? “It’s okay,” he repeated the same words from earlier, although it tasted sour on his tongue. It held no true weight. “Mistakes happen.”

“But, it feels like I can’t do anything right,” you mumbled bitterly. “It’s like I’m cursed, everything I touch breaks.”

Morpheus smiled softly, slightly amused by your statement. He knew how to fix this now. He took both of your hands, and brought them to his lips. He gently kissed your knuckles - soft butterfly kisses. His eyes flickered up, watching you intensely with those vast twinkling baby blue eyes. “Have I broken, love?”

Your heart skipped at his piercing gaze; yet as love and adoration flowed through, it was quickly followed by confusion as his odd question ran through your head. “Well, no, I guess -“

“No, I have not,” he assured you. He maneuvered your hands, showing your palms to him. He bent down, kissing them. “You, my love, are not cursed. My dear sibling has simply destined you for minor inconveniences for a short while. Nothing more, nothing less, and most definitely not a curse.”

You grumbled a bit to yourself, but a smile started to tug on your lips. With each of his kisses, your anger and sorrow melted away. The tension in your jaw vanished and the tears started to dry up. Oh, how simple gestures from him could render you into a puddle. Oh, how easy he could make you forget all your worries.

“In fact,” he kissed your inner wrist, “I would say these hands have the capability of healing and fixing, not breaking.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean?”

Morpheus leaned in towards you, staring deeply into your eyes. “They have healed me.”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze. “Morpheus -“

“It’s true.” He cut you off. He grabbed your hand, laying it on his chest - on his beating heart. “You know the misery I have endured, you know of my past, and yet you welcomed all those broken pieces.”

His words warmed your heart, such a dizzying and absolutely wonderous feeling. You turned your head, beginning to feel bashful.

Morpheus delicately grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding your attention back to him. “You are capable of many things, more so than you can imagine. Please, forgive yourself for your mistakes and allow yourself to breathe.”

He leaned in slowly, kissing you softly. You hummed, falling apart at his touch. Short, but oh so sweet and all-consuming. He pulled away from the brief kiss, smiling at you. His thumb gently ran over your bottom lip then moved up your face as he cupped your cheek again. Your eyes were filled with love, the same love reflected in his endless eyes.

Morpheus kissed the tip of your nose, and pressed his forehead to yours. “I will be here whenever you need help.”

You smiled at him, a bright and full smile. A smile you had not shown in over a week. “Thank you.”

Morpheus’s heart swelled at such a beautiful sight. His love who pulled him from a dark time, his love he would greatly return the favor. He kissed your forehead.

“Anytime, my love.” Any frustration you held was gone, only love stayed. Your tears now long dried, and if they ever returned he would wipe them away as always. “Do you want my help in making dinner?” He offered.

You paused, considering it for a moment. However, you shook your head. You twisted around, pressing your back into his chest. You tugged his arms and wrapped them around you. Sighing in relief, you snuggled into his chest, grateful for his warmth. “In a minute. I just need a moment.”

Morpheus smiled, leaning back into the couch with you safe in his arms. His love, the one who holds his heart. He kissed the top of your head. “Of course, take all the time you need.”

You closed your eyes with a smile on your lips. Maybe this week has finally turned around.

#the sandman #sandman dream #dream of the endless #Morpheus #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x gn!reader #morpheus x gn!reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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cortosis-ct · 7 months ago

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The Bad Batch and their jobs (Modern AU)

In my headcanon they all started out as soldiers. After getting out and accidentally acquisiting Omega, they desperately need money and take any jobs they can get. Eventually, everyone finds something they actually like.

Hunter:

Retail sales associate aka Walmart slave and getting yelled at by Karens all day. He's also doing freelance cleaning jobs, the grosser the better the payment. Think hoarder apartments with fifty cats or scat orgy hotel room cleanup.

He works hard on getting his record cleaned up and eventually secures a job at the fire station. He becomes a firefighter and will eventually be a lieutenant and later captain.

Tech:

Fast food worker which means lots of being yelled at by hangry people who are unhappy with the way their BigMac was stacked. He takes any extra shift he can get.

After several failed rounds of applications, he hacks into a big company's system and puts his name on top of the candidate list. He ends up supervisor for some bank insurance IT stuff with lots of numbers.

Wrecker: Miner. It's hard work and long hours in the dark. He actually earns the most of all of them but that's because it's fucking dangerous and depressing.

The leading instructor for the demolition expert trainees blows up. Wrecker, having had professional training in the military and lots of experience at not getting blown up (again), is their best take so he becomes their new instructor for the new hires.

Crosshair: Nobody is really willing to hire him so he's an unlicensed taxi driver most nights. (He hates everything about it.) He also signed up as a freelance roadkill collector job in Hunter's name and takes the calls when he doesn't have passengers.

He meets railroaders when cleaning up railkill one night. When smoking he mentions how much he hates being a taxi driver and the railroaders recruit him for their company. He becomes a traindriver and finally doesn't have to interact with his passengers.

Echo: They call it online sales associate marketer and customer service advisor. He calls it tele-scam-marketer. Many people yelling at him but at least he can work from home.

At a parent-teacher conference of Omega's school he helps another parent with a technology problem. He's like: "I tried to get rid of that problem for hours and you did it within five minutes. You gotta be a master software engineer." and Echo's like "I get payed to get yelled at as a telemarketer". Turns out the guy is an HR associate at an IT company and gets Echo a proper job.

#star wars #clone wars #bad batch modern au #the bad batch #bad batch #modern au #star wars modern au #bad batch echo #bad batch hunter #bad batch tech #bad batch wrecker #bad batch crosshair #roadkill collector

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froody · 2 years ago

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Where I’m from the real estate is completely, suspiciously cheap. You can get a cute move in ready (but dated) 2 bed 1 bath starter home on a .6 acre lot for $34k That’s a monthly payment around $300. If you’re renting, your option is usually a trailer but then again, a 3 bed 2 bath trailer with a lovely view rarely has rent that rarely exceeds $300 a month. The county that I’m from is beautiful. I mean, it’s flat, there are a lot of cotton fields but there are a lot of old growth pine forests and many great fishing spots, beautiful and clean rivers and lakes. There are also many historical sites. About 16,000 people live here and we’ve been hemorrhaging residents since our population peaked in 1950 with almost 30,000 residents. It’s a large county. Sparsely populated now.

You’re thinking “wow, why is the real estate so cheap? why doesn’t anyone want to live there?” I can tell you why. Around 11% of people live under the poverty line in the US. In my county, around 30% live under the poverty line. There are no resources. There is no hospital in my county and depending on what side of the county to reside in, the nearest one is usually over an hour away. The school system sucks. There are no jobs. Industry died, that drove away many people. As the population wanes, the need for jobs in human facing jobs like retail and teaching also dies. Every bright and beautiful soul born here desperately wants to escape. You have to leave home if you want an education, if you want a living wage, if you want access to quality healthcare, hell, you have to drive to a city if you want to buy clothes.

This is a Black majority county and it has been historically. So many of the ways it’s been squeezed dry are the result of racism. The people here are great. We’re neighborly but not overly so, keep to our own business but we’ll make small talk at the grocery store. We’ll help you if your car breaks down. We’ll invite you in for dinner. This place is beautiful. It’s lovely. And you can’t stay. And that’s the saddest part.

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iteamanz · 20 days ago

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#Ensuring visitors hygiene expectations are met is the number one priority of Housekeeping Managers. However #we know the great challenge is the ever-ticking clock during the guest checkout window. Cleaning teams need precise processes #effective equipment and the ability to move from room to room unencumbered. Every delay adds up — and when teams get behind #corners get cut.#Our team have considered the systems and broad range of aspects that must be accounted for in hospitality cleaning: commercial bathroom cle #soft and hard floor cleaning #surface cleaning and linen services. i-team products are designed for effectiveness #efficiency and ease of task-switching to ensure the best results at the lowest possible cost.#Cordless vacuums #Disinfectant sprayers #Air purifiers for offices #Cleaning equipment for healthcare #Floor scrubber machines #Cordless vacuum cleaners for business #Disinfection systems for hospitals #Healthcare cleaning solutions #Educational facility cleaning tools #Hospitality cleaning equipment #Industrial floor cleaning machines #Retail cleaning systems #Best floor scrubbers for commercial use

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spnfanficpond · 9 months ago

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Weekly Pond Newsletter

Monday is President's Day in the US, which means if you work in parts of the government or banking system you might have the day off work. If you're in retail, you're probably working a sale. Sorry about that. In honor of the day, though, let us know about fics set in the White House! Reblog or reply with a link to your favorite Presidential fics!!

Old Business:

Fishing For Treasures - This weekend is FFT weekend here at the Pond, and this month's theme is SMUT!! Since we got almost 250 links sent to us, and we can only queue 50/day, this weekend will end sometime on Wednesday. Enjoy!! 🤣

#TweetFicTues prompts - Since we missed the last two weeks, we've got three sets of prompts for you!

New Business:

Weekend Giveaways in the Discord server - The past few weeks, Admin Michelle has been cleaning out her collections of random things in her office by giving them away! We have now added a new channel just for giveaways! This weekend, you could win a near-pristine copy of the EW Ultimate Guide to Supernatural edition! All you have to do is drop a link in the giveaways channel for a fic that features the bond between Dean and Sam. Can be Wincest or gen fic, just as long as the bond between them is central to the story!

Manta Rays in the Discord server - This week, Manta Rays Arthur and Spencer will be spending time in the Discord server chatting with you! Keep an eye out for announcement posts with exact dates and times, or take a look at our calendar. (You can also add our calendar to your Google calendar by clicking this link.)

Jason Manns and Paul Carella in the UK online - Jason Manns is across the pond touring with Paul Carella for the next week or so, and they're going to stream their VIP show online next weekend! Click here to learn more and get tickets!

SPN Rewatch: Fanfic Edition - Next weekend we are having another chat in our series rewatch, and we'll be discussing 1.19 Provenance and 1.20 Dead Man's Blood. Sam kisses a girl! John returns! Vampires exist! So much to talk about!!

Writing Sprints - Our sprint room is open all the time to anyone who wants to sprint, but next weekend you can win prizes for sprinting! Since a few have asked, writing sprints are where we set a timer, for usually 15-20 minutes but that is up to those sprinting, and you just write. You compete to see who can write the most words. They don't have to be polished words, just words on the page/screen. Some of our members use it kind of like ADHD body-doubling, even if there's no one else around to sprint with them! Competitive sprints mean you get to win prizes, too! If you have any questions about sprints, feel free to ask.

Angel Fish Awards - February is almost over, which means the monthly raffle deadline is approaching! Every fic rec you submit is one entry into the drawing, and there is no limit to how many you can submit! Spread some love and win prizes, too!! Here's a link to January's Awards, and more info about how it all works can be found at this link here.

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester and @heavenssexiestangel!

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jupitersrising · 11 months ago

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How do we think Annabeth coped with going to college in New Rome? Genuinely. She grew up at a camp where she was sure every moment could be her last. If she didn't train hard enough, if she couldn't outthink a monster or beat a trap or plan accordingly, she'd die. Her friends would die, her siblings would die (she already lost Thalia, even though she came back. She lost Luke, even though he betrayed her. Not to mention the countless siblings that must have died in the war.)

But...it's not just that. I feel like we've talked about how Percy and Annabeth would feel when they saw a city of grown up demigods with great grandkids something that's literally unheard of.

How do we think Annabeth coped with actually life? I mean cleaning the house and doing the dishes. I mean making sure she made time for herself besides work. I mean filing taxes and learning to drive and going grocery shopping. (She'd probably never work a retail job, but if she had to for some reason, what about that?)

You'd think it'd be obvious at first: she'd do great. But really? She grew up at a camp where she knew she was going to die young—hopefully in a blaze of glory. Where she was raised by other teenagers, where she was raising the kids younger than her. There's a solidarity in that, that New Rome won't have with their military system.

Not only would she lose her community, she'd lose the family and friends she'd spent her whole life around. The campers that are still alive were there for almost all her firsts. She went to camp at seven, seven years old, those people are her entire world.

So, now she's eighteen and living with her boyfriend in an actual city for the first time. Think about all the struggles she would have? New Rome would obviously have dyslexia and ADHD accommodations, almost everyone there has both. But...that can't fix everything. Those dyslexia accommodations are in Roman, not Greek, so it doesn't help any of the Greek demigods. The ADHD accommodations might not even exist because of New Rome's army. I feel like they would've been taught to suppress their ADHD and not let it get in the way of conformity and discipline (the roman way of fighting). It'd be seen as a form of weakness if they let those impulses take over them. (See how Jason and Hazel and Reyna act in the books. Though this could be chalked up to inconsistent writing.)

How does she deal with rigid scheduling of New Rome vs the lax, teenage-run camp of her youth? The discipline aspect can't mend well with her ADHD, especially when she's spent the last eleven years around people who get it. When she's spent the last eleven years not having to comply to "normal society" standards. Do you think she had problems with deadlines for classes she didn't like? Because she hyper fixated on architecture design, she wouldn't have had a problem with designing Olympus. But for her English class that she's has to take to graduate? No way, she'd procrastinate the hell out of it. What about waking up for her eight am when she has a really good idea for a new design and just needs a couple more minutes...and suddenly its hours later and Percy is home and she's losing participation points because she can't remember to go to class.

What about anxiety? Annabeth hasn't been around these people before. Not like at camp, where she knew everyone. That must ease the anxiety quite a bit. The social aspect gets easier because most everyone grew up with that little girl who stumbled into camp. She already knew Grover, and had Luke to hold her hand through social interactions when she was younger. By the time she got older she has that confidence in herself to be able to mess around and have fun with these people. But to New Rome, she's a war leader, she's a Greek demigod. She's an unknown variable that they don't know how to deal with.

How could she talk to them? None of them knew her as the kid who would take any dare. Or heard her ramble on and on about her hyper fixations to anyone who would listen. They don't see her prank the Stolls back (you can't tell me she wouldn't) or run through the strawberry fields after a rainstorm and get covered in mud for the fun of it.

No, all they saw was a war leader and someone who had clawed their way back from Tartarus. They saw how she spoke about the Gods when they still respected them. They heard that she traversed to Olympus all the time while she remodeled it. She spoke to Gods that none of her peers could dream of being in the presence of.

How could she make friends with those people? With people who didn't understand the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get here. With people who respected an institution Annabeth had long since given up on. With people who saw her for her titles and her quests rather than who she was as a person.

Looping back around, let's go to real life stuff. Annabeth had to pay for things on quests, but do we really think she knows how money works? At camp, everyone basically uses drachmas. And even then, their basic needs are being met. They don't have to pay for food, housing, water, etc. You can't tell me Chiron takes the camp van to the mall whenever year-round campers want clothes. They're either bought for them, or the Aphrodite kids make it, or one of the older kids goes out with the camp credit card and just...buys the whole store to bring back. Drachmas are usually only used for bets and dealing with entities on quests.

For the first time in her life, (since she was seven and really seven year olds don't understand how money works, not matter how smart they are. Plus Luke or Thalia would probably be the ones buying stuff, since they were older and it'd be less questionable if they walked into a store by themselves than a little kid.) her basic needs aren't guaranteed. If she fucks up, it's her fault. Do you think she drained their bank account buying something at the store (because, again, she hasn't really gone to those other than when she's on a quest) and had a panic attack over the fact that she, Annabeth Chase, who commanded armies over two wars, who was known as one of the greatest demigods to date, just fucked up big time? Because she wasn't used to having to spend the money on rent and textbooks and supplies for her architecture business. Because food was always there for her to eat when she was hungry and the water always ran and the lights never went out? Do you think that after all this time she forgot that stuff like that wasn't always going to be there?

She grew up thinking she was going to die young. She was going to die at Camp Half-Blood where those things would always be in full stock.

What about the apartment? She's not used to having her own kitchen, or bathroom that wasn't communal. Do you think she sought out the snacks her siblings liked before remembering that she siblings weren't there, they were hundred of miles away in New York. Do you think she knew how to clean an entire house? How to keep a house clean? Obviously as Head Counselor of the Athena Cabin, she'd make sure it was clean in time for inspections. But did that include kids using chemicals to deep clean? Did that include remembering to vacuum under the furniture every so often, or did they leave it since Chiron didn't look under there. (Again, everyone here is teenagers at the oldest, they're not gonna want to deep clean). Do you think that she didn't pick up clutter because she was so used to rushing last minute to make sure her and her sibling's clutter was clean in time for inspections that the thought of doing it regularly just...never crossed her mind?

Also, driving. We know Percy learned for Paul when he turned fifteen (aka the iconic horse hooves on the hood of the car scene), but who taught Annabeth? Did any of the older campers know? Did Luke? They either got drove around by Argus or didn't leave. They had pegasi to fly around camp and boats of war. Who was going to sit down with fifteen year old Annabeth and teach her how to drive? Especially with the war getting close. Nobody would have time, even if they wanted to. Who was going to take fifteen year old Annabeth Chase to get her drivers permit when they were making plans of attack instead. After the war, Percy went missing and all her time was taken up looking for him. You can't tell me she took driving classes when she was tearing the world apart to find him.

We also know Annabeth doesn't like to have to depend on other people. Since they either died or betrayed her. So how would she feel walking into a world where it's hard to get around without a car. Buses can be inconsistent and close early. Idk about a subway system in California, but still there's that dependance on other peoples' schedules. She'd have to have friends drive her to and from places, but again, she left most of her community behind in New York. She can't just use Blackjack to get around if she goes into the mortal world.

I'm not sure, I'd just like to see more explorations of Annabeth dealing with mundane tasks she never learned how to do. I want to see the impact of living when she thought she was going to die young and not knowing how to deal with adult things. I want to see how she reaches to the institution of New Rome and how people treat her. I want to see how she feels when she never thought she'd have to pay taxes or worry about apartments and yet...there is she.

#i'm back on my character study bullshit #I just think we should acknowledge annabeth's trauma more often #outside of the wars too #annabeth chase #new rome #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #character study

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lpmurphy · 4 months ago

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Spring in Tchakova Park

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Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: Violet's dating history is exposed to the team. John, Violet and the team arrive at the Demeter Project, and John has a realization.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Sunshine

The two nights leading up to their shared mission were, if he was putting it lightly, chaotic. Violet filled each moment they were home with last minute planning and tasks. John had been exposed to the full scope of Violet’s disorganization that he had only seen glimpses of as they prepared for their trip into the mountains with her family. With the distraction of the inoperable system, she had become far more scattered than he knew her to be. Storage bins that contained a staggering amount of clothing were emptied onto their bed after returning home from work on Monday night. The better part of the evening was spent with her digging through the piles in search of her field clothing that she stuffed haphazardly into her duffle bag. He trailed behind her all night, silently cleaning up the mess she left in her wake as she tore through the apartment like a windstorm. He had been grateful when she left for a third time to run to the retail center for another item she had forgotten to purchase and left him to fold and tuck away the clothing that had accumulated on the bed in a silent house.

For their final night at home, Violet decided to invite the team over for one last dinner before they departed Reach for the foreseeable future. She had grocery shopped Sunday before returning to work and grumbled all Monday evening about food waste as she cooked dinner for the two of them, barely making a dent in the full fridge. He had received a message the next morning from Violet announcing that she needed help clearing out the fridge and requesting that the team join them at the apartment. Much to his annoyance, he found that she had put them all into a group thread together that she, Riz, and Kai communicated solely on for the remainder of the day as his pad buzzed every few minutes when Kai changed the name of the group to fit her current liking and Riz fed Violet the latest base gossip she had overheard.

He took Sadie to her parents’ home once they arrived home that evening and left Violet to finish her last minute packing before the team arrived. Jane sent him home with even more food that he had attempted to politely decline until she met him with that hard stare that Violet had replicated when he came back through the door with arms full of dishes. Kai, Riz, and Vannak were all perched in their usual places when he came home like they were integral to the structure of the apartment when he returned home and leaned down to kiss Violet’s cheek apologetically as she took the dishes from him with a sigh. Kai and Vannak were both vocal in their disapproval of Sadie’s absence throughout the evening as they all picked at the contents of the refrigerator that Violet had prepared and set out on the island. It hadn’t taken long for the four Spartans to make quick work of the odds and ends, leaving a collection of empty dishes on the island as they sat around and talked. John stood in the kitchen with Vannak, both collecting dishes and trash as the three women sat huddled on the sofa. Riz announced after dinner that she and Violet had been on kitchen duty the last time they had all gathered and both women were all too happy to send their men back into the kitchen with pleased smiles. They knew better than to argue.

“I have found four local carpenters that can reinforce furniture. Would you like me to send their information over to Doctor Harris’ pad?”

John looked over to where Violet sat between Riz and Kai on the sofa, the frame groaning under each shift of their weight. His team had spent nearly every other night since their return from the mountains in their apartment and Violet’s furniture had begun to protest each time he or a member of his team lowered themselves into it. He watched Violet tilt her head back to laugh at something Kai said. The blonde lowered herself off of the sofa as it groaned again to lay on the living room floor and kick her feet up into Violet’s lap.

“Get quotes from each. Send them over to mine once you have them.”

“You got it, Chief.”

Violet rose from the sofa as Riz and Kai turned their conversation to one another and crossed the living room to where he stood at the island. John lowered his cheek to her as she popped up onto her toes. Soft lips brushed against his jaw, her hand on his arm as he wrapped his own around her waist. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her sweater and she rested her head on his arm, “Want to swap out for a bit?”

He pressed his lips to her head in response, “I’m fine. Go sit.”

“You sure? I feel bad; we’ve only been home from vacation for a few days and we’ve done nothing but get ready for the next one. You’re spoiling me with all this vacation time, I might start expecting it.”

He rolled his eyes at the tired joke she had been using since she received the news of their now shared assignment. “It’s not a vacation, Goose,” he sighed. “It’s a humanitarian mission.”

“It’s a fucking babysitting job is what it is,” Vannak grumbled as he passed by her to settle beside Riz on the sofa.

Violet smirked at his crotchety tone while John watched as he sat and threw his arm over the back of the sofa behind Riz. Since their discovery in the words, the two had been far less secretive. Still quite private, but John found that the gazes they had held from across the room since they were teenagers had given away to gentle touches when they thought no one was looking. He always pretended not to notice.

Violet followed him back to the living room to sit beside their friends again. “You don’t want to hang out with me? That hurts my feelings, Vannak. I thought we were friends. I’m sad now.”

“Fuck off, Harris.”

“Ouch,” she pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “And you kiss Riz with that mouth? Shame on you.”

Riz laughed from beside her as Vannak rolled her eyes and tucked her legs under herself, “So, tell us about this installation of yours?”

John watched Violet toss the blanket off of her lap and stand up to cross to the bookshelves as she excitedly explained the mission of the project he knew she held so dearly. She plucked a frame from the shelf below where their picture sat and turned to hold it out to Kai and Riz. He had seen the picture before; Violet standing with the Demeter team in front of one of the greenhouses, all smiling proudly with arms around one another. It was framed in her mother’s home as well. She tapped on the face of each of her companions as she spoke.

“There were nine of us in total before I left,” she explained, smiling as she looked over the faces of her team, “The research team was made up of myself, Meredith, and Devrin. Saul is our ionic physicist, Jin is a biochemist and the smartest woman I’ve ever met. Leif and Bastian are our horticulturists, and Derek and Corey are the project engineers. They’re all exceptional.”

Kai pointed beyond her to the shelves, her augmented vision honed in on another frame, “Who’s the Ranger?”

John knew exactly what picture Kai referenced. He had noticed it himself shortly after he started spending time in her apartment; Violet standing shoulder to shoulder with a dark haired Ranger, his arm around her as they laughed. It had been an innocent enough image tucked between pictures of Violet with other friends that he hadn’t thought anything of it. He picked up Vannak’s plate off the island and set it into the sink with a smirk as Violet started to blush.

“Oh that? He’s just an old friend. He was stationed at the same base.”

John couldn’t help the chuckle that barked out of him, “Oh, ‘an old friend’? That’s what we’re calling him now?”

She sighed as she set the frame back down on the shelf, cheeks still red as she returned to her spot on the sofa, “Oh my god, stop. We’ve been over this.”

Riz and Kai looked to him quizzically as he continued to collect dishes. “They dated,” he explained, both redhead and blonde nodding in acknowledgement.

Riz looked back to Violet, “I thought Dev was a scientist?”

“He is…Greg is a Ranger, though.”

“Violet Harris, you little harlot,” Kai laughed. She raised a foot to gently kick Violet’s knee in jest from where she lay on her back on the living room floor, turning her head to look up at Violet, “Two exes at the same base?”

Violet scoffed and kicked Kai’s knee in return, her touch doing nothing to move the larger woman. Her cheeks remained red, and John smirked as she sputtered and pointed across the living room to where he stood. “John fucked a POW. Why don’t we talk more about that? Why is my dating history suddenly under scrutiny?”

Vannak, Kai and Riz all let out a collective groan at the statement. “Old news, Harris,” Riz said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We all know about that. This is far more interesting. Tell us; many broken hearts did you leave in your wake? How many men are there?”

Violet rubbed her face with a groan and shot him a dirty look over her shoulder, “He’s making it sound far more exciting of a story than it is; we were close friends, we both were interested but never acted on it until Dev and I broke up. We dated for a few months before I left for Reach. We both knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere. We were just enjoying one another’s company. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“I remember there being more to the story than just that.” Cortana smirked.

John rolled his eyes at the single detail she had chosen to omit. Violet had shared the story with him weeks ago, claiming full honesty in one another’s lives after the night he left. She had told him of her ‘old friend’ one night as she nervously shared each detail. He found it comically hypocritical that his botanist now withheld information as she spoke of it to them. He leaned his elbows against the island, “Is that why you made a marriage pact, then?”

“John,” she sighed. Four pairs of eyes fixed upon her as she dropped her head into her hands.

“A what?” Kai laughed.

Violet lifted her head and held her hands out in defeat, flashing a tight, embarrassed smile, “I had just turned thirty, I was freaking about about getting older, he’s four years older than me, we both want kids. We agreed that if we both were still single when I turned thirty two that we would get married. Obviously, we aren’t, because look at where you are all currently sitting. I love John very much. Everyone shut up and drop it.”

John relented at the tight-smiled glare he caught from across the room, recognizing impending trouble for himself when he could see it. Ignoring Riz’s warning taps on his knee, Vannak continued to chuckle, “Are you going to kick his ass too, Chief?”

“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Violet groaned, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. “We’re going to go, we’re going to do what we need to do, and everyone is going to be cool about it. Got it?”

Kai raised her hand from where she laid on the floor, “What about Dev? Am I allowed to kick his ass?”

Biting back his permission to use Johal for target practice if Kai so desired, John looked to Violet for her reply. Violet sighed and turned back to the woman beside her.

“I said… Do not… You-,” she stopped and sighed again, clapping her hands together and bringing them to her chin. She pondered for a moment before nodding in approval, “That’s fine. You can kick his ass. But just him, no one else, Kai. And only with good reason. Understood?”

Kai laughed and nodded, “You never let us have any fun, Harris.”

Riz shook her head and glanced over at the late evening hour on the chrono, announcing that it was time for the three to return to the base. The three rose in a chorus of chatter as Violet hugged both women goodbye, ignoring Vannak’s begrudging protests as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze. John and Riz exchanged a sympathetic look with one another at the realization that they were stuck playing audience to their antics until the repairs were completed. Something about the sight of them all in the apartment together, Violet hugging and laughing with his sisters and bantering with his brother, felt right to him. As if it should have always been that way. John had only known a few places he had considered home in his lifetime, yet all of them had lacked the feeling he felt now as he stood in their kitchen and watched her wish their family a goodnight in the home she gave him. It was the same feeling he had felt every time he sat under the Harris’ backyard lights. The same feeling he had felt watching them all swim in that cold lake. The same feeling he had felt as they laid around the dying fire beside the oak listening to them swap stories while Violet slept on his chest. It was a wholeness that filled him up; a warm heaviness that crawled over him like he was standing in the sun. He hoped it would never leave.

The lock rolled in the tumbler as Violet turned from the door, crossed the apartment to the bedroom door, and disappeared inside. “I’m going to change and then I’ll come help you finish up,” she called behind her.

“Already done,” he called back. He left the kitchen and crossed to the balcony windows. The park laid below him, illuminated in the dusky glow of the lamp posts. His eyes fell to the pricks of light on the water to find the yellow glow of where he stood.

“Okay, can you come help me double check my bag then? I feel like I forgot something.”

John glanced over to where she had returned to the doorway. His response caught in his throat as he realized that she had not been dressed in the pullover and sweatpants she had worn the night before to be. He raked his eyes over the garment she wore instead; all sheer black lace that did little to cover her. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, Violet smirking up at him from where she leaned against the doorframe. John forgot what he had been doing, nor could he remember what they had been discussing as his eyes rolled over her again and he matched the playful look on her face.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, this? I picked it up one of the times I went out last night. I felt bad for being such a pain this week. And, you were clear that we’re not allowed to be ‘inappropriate’ with one another while we’re away,” she smiled. John recalled the conversation regarding the profession courtesies to be expected on this joint deployment they engaged in night before, “So, I figured since it’s our last night at home, and we don’t have a dog to share a bed with, we might as well get our fill of each other.”

“Might as well.”

“But,” she sighed the word out in a playful singsong. “You did just make me look like a total skank in front of our friends.”

She clicked her tongue and shrugged. Pushing herself off of the wall, she turned her back to him to reveal how deliciously little the garment covered as she began to push the bedroom door shut behind her, “So, I think I’m going to change and go to bed instead. Goodnight!”

John crossed the room in a matter of steps to press his hand against the door as she giggled from behind it. Violet met him with a smirk as he started to remove his shirt.

“On the bed, Goose.”

She smiled that Violet smile, her eyes burning as she looked up at him. She stepped back against the bed and perched herself on the edge of it to watch as he began to work off his pants.

“That’s naked enough for me to know it’s time to abide by Rule #1,” Cortana sighed. “Goodnight, Chief.”

---

John couldn’t think of a place less fitting for Violet as he looked over the base.

“Cortana?”

Cortana stood beside him in the cockpit as the ship lowered onto the tarmac with a lurch, blue light glowing on the walls around him as she briefed him.

“Forward Operating Base Nomad,” Cortana chirped. “Located 30 klicks east of a small civilian settlement. The locals are of Cambodian descent and speak primarily Khmer. Several insurgent cells populate the area. The primary function of the base had been to engage with the local population to gather intelligence, build relationships, and conduct civil-military operations. The Ranger team assigned to the base has worked with the locals to form and train a small militia, along with conducting operations out of the base.”

“And it houses a badass scientific project,” Violet called. John turned over his shoulder to her. Violet braided her still shower-damp hair as she approached the cockpit. “Can’t forget about that, Cortana.”

She had changed into cargo pants and a thin long sleeve embellished with the project’s insignia since emerging from cryosleep. She had spent the better part of the past half hour in the showers, her and Vannak tossing back insults as she still retched and gagged on the taste of the suppressant that had filled her lungs over the past three weeks of travel. Cortana had been there when Violet woke to remind her to sit up and cough, speaking gently to Violet as she turned and vomited directly onto the floor, and continued to spit up bile and the mucus-like suppressant for several minutes after.

She was still slightly green as she stepped into the cockpit to stand beside him and press a kiss to his jaw. John noticed the length of tawny brown fabric she wore loosely wrapped around her neck. She had fished it out of a box in her closet while packing at the apartment and he didn’t ask how a civilian contractor had ended up with a tactical scarf that looked like it had made it through several missions. He hadn’t been sure he wanted the answer as he watched the determined way she had stuffed it into her rucksack.

“That as well, Doctor Harris,” Cortana agreed with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you, Cortana. Again, I’m so sorry for throwing up on you.”

“Well, being that you vomited through me, as it would be impossible for you to vomit on me, I assume all is forgiven.”

Violet laughed that musical laugh and nodded before turning green eyes up to John, “One last kiss before the helmet goes on and I’m not allowed to touch you? I brushed my teeth twice, I promise.”

John chuckled and lowered his lips to hers, Violet taking his face in her hands. Cortana excused herself in a flurry of blue light to leave them alone. John was grateful for the moment together, her lips on his and his hand on her back. She released his face with a final peck on the cheek and smiled at him before turning out of the cockpit.

“Come on,” she called. “Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

A team was waiting on the tarmac as they arrived, the engines kicking up swirls of dust as they stepped off into the heat. Violet blocked the bright sunlight that flooded into the cargo bay with a raised hand as the ramp dropped. John had seen dozens of FOBs just like the one that laid beyond the tarmac; command center surrounded by several different semi-permanent structures, a small field hospital, and CHU housing. A perimeter wall surrounded the base, fortified with a handful of guard towers, concertina wire, and surveillance equipment to monitor and defend against potential threats. The small base sat in the foreground of jagged mountains dotted with skeletal trees. He couldn’t picture Violet in a place with such little green. Much less being there for four years.

Three greenhouses sat on the far side of the base beside a low building. They were much less grandiose versions of the ones Violet occupied back at FLEETCOM, smaller and dingier with panes covered in the dust that seemed to cling to everything. Each bore the same insignia on the polycarbonate roofs that Violet wore on the pocket of her shirt; an overflowing cornucopia ringed with laurel leaves. He’d seen the same insignia on a few of the pullovers she would slip into after their evening runs; The Demeter Project.

He watched Violet descend the ramp as it touched down on the tarmac, pulling the scarf over her mouth and nose as she stepped down into the still swirling grime. John found that their welcome committee didn’t consist of just the team sent out to retrieve supplies as his heavy footsteps thudded against the ramp. He recognized the Ranger whose picture sat in their apartment at the base of the ramp, the name of his uniform confirming his identity to John. He stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back as Violet continued down the ramp and pulled the scarf over her head. The thick deployment beard did nothing to hide the smile that the dark haired man tried to suppress at the sight of Violet.

“Captain Mullins,” Violet called over the quieting engines, continuing down the ramp to him.

“Welcome back, Doctor Harris. Wonderful to see you, as always,” he nodded. John stayed behind her, watching as the man’s eyes darted to him behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Master Chief. Welcome to Nomad.”

Violet smiled, her hand still raised as she spoke, “They still have you at this shithole?”

“Some of us call this shithole home, Doctor. You did not too long ago. Not all of us get to waltz off to a corner office.”

She laughed that musical laugh as she stepped in front of him on the tarmac, and the man’s smile only grew. John’s jaw tightened as Mullins reached a hand to Violet’s face and tugged at the scarf, adjusting it so that it blocked the sun from her eyes.

“It’s hardly a corner office,” she laughed. “More of a supply closet with some leg room.”

“Just a friendly reminder that breaking his wrist would most likely result in a court-martial. Do with that information what you will, Chief.”

“Noted.”

“Sounds like leaving wasn’t as much of an adventure as you hoped for, then.”

“It was, actually,” Violet responded, her nose crinkling slightly. “In other ways. I’ll fill you in later when we get some free time.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m sure he would,” Cortana grumbled, “On second thought, I could make revisions to reports to make any injuries seem like a terrible accident. Just give me the word, Chief. I’m ready when you are.”

John ignored Cortana’s tight tone and watched as Violet pulled Mullins in for a hug. It was a friendly gesture, the same way he had seen her force hugs upon Vannak. But Mullins leaned into her in the same way John would when Violet would snake her arms around him. Mullins laughed as he pulled Violet to him.

“It’s nice to see you, Greg,” she smiled.

“Hey, Sunshine,” John stiffened even further. “Good to have you home.”

“Excuse me? Her name is Goose. Seriously, Chief. On your signal.”

“Quiet.”

The man released Violet from the bear hug he had wrapped her into and readjusted the shifted scarf with a smile of his own. “Your team set your room back up at the Garden Center- no one’s been in there since you left. You’re welcome to stay there, but I heard rumors that Saul and Leif may have turned it into a gaming room so you may have to evict a few squatters.”

She rolled her eyes with an amused sigh, “Still acting like a couple of fifteen year olds?”

“You thought they would magically grow up in the eight months you’ve been gone?”

She scoffed, still shaking her head as Mullins turned to address John again. “I apologize, Master Chief, but we are short on housing. We are happy to see what temporary accommodations we can make for your team until we are able to find something more long-term.”

“Ooo, offer to bunk with Doctor Harris,” Cortana offered, tone dripping with mischief. “That may be enough for him to pick up on.”

John rolled his eyes, “We will be fine on the Condor, Captain.”

Mullins nodded and went on to ask about unloading the supplies. Violet jumped in to answer before John could speak, “The three over there are mine. It’s expensive equipment, Greg. Like, lose my job if it’s broken kind-of expensive. Make sure it’s handled appropriately, please.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

“I don’t know,” she crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto her hip as she stared back at him with a hard glare. “Do I need to remind you of Wendell’s little accident with my herbarium cabinets?”

“Oh good, still holding that grudge,” Mullins muttered. He turned from the ramp, “Message received, Vi.”

Violet nodded and turned back up the ramp, calling that she should get her things before the unloading team came up to retrieve cargo and load it onto the small convoy that sat on the tarmac. John turned to follow her into the cargo bay, the neat end of her braid swaying with each step she took. He watched as she looked around and mumbled to herself as she tried to remember where she had stowed away her things in the week prior, fingers fidgeting with the fraying edge of the scarf.

Wordlessly, John pointed to the far side of the cargo bay to where her bags sat. Violet muttered out a triumphant noise as she wove through the crates to her things. John followed behind, “Sunshine, huh?”

“Oh, please,” she groaned. She adjusted her braid as she slung her rucksack over her shoulders. “Don’t start. We’ve gone over this; we dated for a few months. I lived here for four years, mind you. I had a life before I met you. You do remember that we practically live together, right?”

“I’m aware.”

Violet huffed out a laugh and shook her head, “You’re so jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are,” she laughed, pulling her eyes from his to continue to look for her bag. He reached to her face, tucking a finger up her chin and lifting her face to make her eyes meet his again. Green looked up at him from under thick lashes, her lips parted slightly in surprise.

“I’m not jealous,” his voice was low as he spoke. Violet’s eyes never left his as he held her chin in gauntleted hand. “That would mean I want something I can’t have. I’m protecting what belongs to me.”

Violet eyes darkened slightly at his statement as she smiled up at him, taking his wrist in her hand and pressing her lips to her palm. “All yours, big guy,” she murmured, “Now can you please be nice?”

John brought his hand to her face and brushed his thumb along her cheek. Professional courtesies were all but forgotten when Violet looked up at him from under the edge of that scarf in a way that was so different from the way she had looked at Mullins on the tarmac; in a way he knew belonged only to him in all of that warmth and loveliness. He traced his thumb along the curve of her lips and she pressed a kiss to the pad of it as she watched her reflection in the visor of his helmet. All yours, she had said. He was all hers as well. Every piece and part and dent belonged to her.

“Whatever you say, Goose.”

Those eyes that belonged to only him were pulled away at the sound of Mullins’ voice on the ramp. John dropped his hand as Violet reached down to pick up her duffle bag.

“Hey, Harris! You headed to the labs? I can have a couple of guys take your equipment over before we head out with supplies.”

Violet’s footsteps thudded against the ramp as she walked towards where Mullins stood beside the crates that held her equipment. She tossed her bags atop one of them. “You think I’m going to miss out on a trip into town? Yeah, right. You know me better than that, Greg. I’m coming with you. You can have them take my things there. I’ll head that way when we get back.”

Mullins nodded and called out orders to the unloading team. A small group of men greeted Violet as they came to collect her supplies and she greeted each by name with bright smiles. Mullins nodded towards the installation and John followed his gesture to the group of people that approached, all but one waving excitedly at Violet as they neared. “Geek Squad is out here to see you.”

John recognized the bounce of Meredith Powell’s hair as she sprinted at Violet and tackled her to the ground in a tight hug. Violet yelped as she was knocked to the ground with a puff of red dirt, the sound immediately replaced by that musical laughter as she clung to her friend. The rest of the team lingered behind, all stepping forward to hug his botanist after Meredith helped her back to her feet. They watched him with wide eyes as he stood behind her, but the moment of wonder was lost to Violet as she pulled them all in with happy laughter. John noticed that Devrin stayed back, arms crossed tightly against his chest as he nodded to Violet.

“Doctor Harris.”

“Doctor Johal.”

Dev regarded John with a curt nod. A flicker of fear flashed in the scientist’s eyes before he turned to head back to the installation. Mullins called out to Violet again with that nickname that made John grit his teeth from where the convoy sat. Violet turned away from her team to where Mullins stood and waved her over, “We’re ready when you are, kid!”

Violet squeezed the shoulders of the large Black man she hugged- John recognized him as Saul from her picture- and turned away with promises to catch up with all of them later as she crossed to where Mullins waited for her.

“You’re all with me,” John said. The team’s acknowledgement lights flashed on his HUD as they all started down the ramp towards the convoy. “Looks like we’re taking a drive.”

Violet smiled at him over her shoulder as she talked to Mullins, watching as soldiers loaded into the convoy behind them. Mullins tore his eyes away from the botanist to acknowledge Silver Team as they approached before returning his attention to Violet, “Insurgent groups have been active again since the famine. We’ve been working with the local militia to keep it at bay, but it’s not like you remember it. It’s best if you stick with an armed escort, Sunshine.”

John stepped behind Violet, subtly tapping his hand against her back. He was sure he would get an earful from her about breaking his own rules when they got a moment together. She leaned into the touch, looking over to where Kai, Riz, and Vannak stepped beside him with one of those bright smiles before turning back with Mullins.

“Well, I was sent with four. I think I’ll be alright, don’t you?”

---

Violet jumped into action as soon as they arrived in the village. John watched as she interacted with the crowd of villagers that met the convoy and chatted with each soldier in that same warm way; asking of spouses and parents and children as she greeted each. Each seemed to meet Violet with that same warmth, her brightness touching all those around her even in the bleak village. John watched as she reached into the crates to pass out rations and supplies to villagers that she greeted in their native tongue, chatting with each in Khmer as they approached her. Pride settled into him as he watched her goodness translate into the sense of gentle authority that had come over her since they arrived.

John watched as a young girl ran up to Violet and threw her arms around her middle. Violet wrapped her arms around the child without looking down to identify her first, but John watched her face light up in happy recognition as she did. Violet took the girl’s face in her hands as she spoke excitedly to the girl in the tonal language. John leaned over to where Riz stood beside him watching the distribution, Violet still smiling as she brushed the girl’s hair out of her face.

“What’s she saying?”

Riz listened for a moment as Violet spoke to the girl. “She’s telling her how tall and beautiful she’s gotten.”

Cortana continued to translate for him long after Riz did. She buzzed between his ears as she relayed each side of the villagers’ conversations with Violet. She spoke to each one with nothing but softness; her voice kind and gentle. Each villager regarded her as one would welcome home an old friend with wide smiles passed between each party. Violet reached out and grasped the hand of a woman who welcomed her in greeting, asking the woman how her mother had been and if her sister had delivered her baby. She told another little boy how much he looked like his older brother as she hugged him tightly. She asked another man about his wife, and when he replied that she was with child, Violet looked around to make sure no one had been watching before she snuck the man a few extra rations with that kind smile. It went on like that for some time. John watched as the goodness that she radiated like sunbeams touched everyone she surrounded in her. Sunshine, Mullins had called her. The captain hadn’t been too far off.

He looked from Violet to where the captain stood with members of his team, turned at his fellow Ranger’s side so that he could both speak to the man and still assess the crowd. Mullins watched beyond where villagers gathered at the convoy to where Violet stood, the captain watching her with the same soft smile that was hidden behind his helmet. John had never been the most adept with social queues, but he recognized the man’s look immediately; John had looked at Violet that same way since that evening he met her in the park. He had seen other men look at her that way before; MPs she’d become friendly with at the gates back home, horticulturalists on her team, damn near every man she had walked past on that base just today. He found with each of their stares that the fear he had once felt did not come. It did not creep in like a frost and chill him until he could no longer move. He did not fear and lament the man who would come after him and someday deserve Violet Harris, or the men who had come before. He simply knew there would never be another man. He was the only one she looked back at the same way.

Violet looked up at the sound of a dog’s bark. John found the pitch of it familiar. Her eyes fell on the source; a small pack of dogs that lay panting in the shade of a building. He had noticed the population of strays that roamed the village when they arrived. A smile crept across her face at the sight and she stepped to the edge of the vehicle’s cargo bed to lower herself to the ground. Mullins was on her in an instant, offering his hand for balance with another grin. Violet took his hand with an appreciative smile and hopped down with a puff of dirt before returning her focus to the dogs. She slowly approached the dogs, their eyes watching and ears twitching as she approached them with a series of soft whistles followed by calm whispers.

The dog in the center sat up, a black and white collie with a graying snout, and whined happily as Violet padded near them. John watched the dog’s tail start to sway as Violet approached. The excited way it wiggled reminded him of the way Sadie greeted him at the door every evening. Violet crouched down beside it, speaking softly to the pup as she started to scratch its ears and it rolled onto its back to expose its belly to her. John noticed a shepard sitting beside the collie in the shade, his bright white fur dull and dirty. He watched Violet cautiously as she pet the collie, protective of the dog that licked at the botanist’s hands. It reminded him of the dog he saw in his memories.

“Captain!” Kai called.

Mullins looked up and crossed from where he stood supervising the distribution as Kai waved him over. She gestured to where Violet sat with the grouping of dogs, giggling as the collie licked her face. “What’s with the wildlife?”

“It’s a part of the local charm. The locals stopped keeping them as pets years ago because they couldn’t feed them. They formed packs and started finding their own food sources. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Doctor Harris’ dog, but she adopted Sadie from the streets about two years ago. See that one she’s petting? That’s Sadie’s momma. Doctor Harris always makes sure to say hello. No animals on base, but Violet hid her for about three months before command found out. She found some loophole about installation rules over base rules, so Sadie became somewhat of a mascot for the project. She loves that dog something fierce. I’m surprised she was willing to leave her behind. I wonder who she trusted enough with her baby while she’s here.”

“Yeah, Chief,” John could hear the grin masked by Kai’s helmet in her voice as she looked over to him. “Who is watching your dog while you and Doctor Harris are here?”

Mullins straightened up and pulled his eyes from Violet to look up at the Master Chief, realization washing over his face at Kai’s question. Violet looked up from the old dog to glance over at John and offer him one of those bright Violet smiles. He couldn’t blame the captain for staring; John could understand every look she got. But those green eyes never left him, even as Mullins’ eyes returned to her a little bit more forlorn this time.

John watched as Violet stroked the dog’s back again and gave her rear a pat before standing up. She dusted off her hands on her pants, her eyes finding him again from where she stood in the shade. Violet brought her hand up again to block the dropping sun from her eyes as she gave him a small wave, the warmth in her eyes rivaling the blistering air around him and John found himself caught in the gaze that belonged to only him.

#halo fanfic #halo tv show #master chief #master chief/oc #romance #romcom in space #au #halo fanfiction #not canon compliant #silver timeline #halo series #halo #john 117/oc #john 117 #spring in tchakova park

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