#and here i am working for a stupid fucking retail store

[combeauferre]

i am once again spiralling into the idea that i may never find a good job and simply work in retail for the rest of my life

[666writingcafe]

666WritingCafe's Fall 2024 Menu (NSFW)

I was looking through the stuff I had saved in my drafts, found two prompt lists by the users listed below, and decided to try something new(ish).

So, you know how a lot of retail stores usually have most (if not all) of their fall/Halloween items by the end of August? It may not be out on the floor yet, but it's certainly sitting in the back, waiting to get stocked. Anyway, similar concept here: consider this the start of Smutober/Kinktober on my side of Tumblr.com.

The "Premade" prompts have characters linked to them already. Singles have one character, and entrees have two or three. Prompts considered "Create-Your-Own-Meals" do not have characters attached to them (as of yet).

"Orders" can be made via requests. You can add "sides" (IE: specific kinks) to your "order".

Hopefully I can also resume the Obey Me rewrites soon and have this in conjunction to that, but we'll see what happens with work and life in general.

Without further ado, the "menu" is listed below the cut.

Prompts from @writinginstardust and @dumplingsjinson

Premade Singles (Part One)

“Come over here and make me.” Barbatos Order #1 (8/27/24)

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Thirteen

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Satan

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Lucifer

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” Solomon

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” Belphie

"You were put on this earth to give me a headache." Mammon

“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.” Asmo

“Uh, am I interrupting?” Diavolo

“Don’t be shy now; sit on my face.” Simeon

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Levi

“I've never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you right now.” Beel

“I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name.” Mephistopheles

~~~

Premade Singles (Part Two)

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.” Satan

“Did I stutter?” Thirteen

“Stop being a fucking prick.” Barbatos

“I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.” Mammon

“You sent me pictures of you naked while I was in a work meeting!” Solomon

“I want to taste you.” Simeon

“If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs.” Diavolo

“Don’t cover your face; I want to see you.” Belphie

“Bend over the desk, love.” Mephistopheles

“I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” Levi

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” Beel

“Touch yourself for me.” Asmo

“Do you want to see what I'm wearing underneath all this?" Lucifer

~~~

Premade Singles (Part Three)

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” Lucifer

“Could he make you feel as good as I do?” Simeon

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” Barbatos

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.” Satan

“Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, I was just..” “Want some help?” Solomon

“I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.” Diavolo

“That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.” Belphie

“Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” Asmo

“Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me.” Thirteen

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you.” Mephistopheles

“Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.” Beel

“Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.” Mammon

“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me? I’d like to see that in action.” Levi

~~~

Premade Entrees (Part One)

“Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?” Thirteen and Beel

“I wanna taste you on my lips again.” Satan and Solomon

“Rough or gentle?” Mammon and Simeon

“You’re really messing with my head here.” Levi and Lucifer

“Fuck, just touch me already! Just— just do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.” Barbatos and Asmo

“Clothes on or clothes off?” Diavolo, Mephistopheles, and Belphie

~~~

Premade Entrees (Part Two)

“How about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use, hm?” Mephistopheles and Belphie

“Aren’t you desperate?” Lucifer and Thirteen

“Patience, love. We’re getting there.” Solomon and Levi

“Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when we're fucking you like this." "So pretty for us, and only for us.” Beel and Satan Order #3 (9/4/2024)

"You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?” Diavolo and Asmo

“You like that, don’t you?” Mammon, Simeon, and Barbatos

~~~

Premade Entrees (Part Three)

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality, yeah?” Mephistopheles and Solomon

“Imagine how amazing you’d sound when we're fucking you senseless.” Thirteen and Diavolo

“We’ll fuck you so good, I promise.” Belphie and Asmo

“You’ve got us all hot and bothered.” Levi and Mammon

“Always so needy for us, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?” Beel and Lucifer Order #7 (10/7/2024)

“Behave.” Simeon, Barbatos, and Satan

~~~

Create-Your-Own-Meal

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Stop fucking teasing me/us and get to it already.” Order #2 (8/28/2024)

“Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…”

“Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 

“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” Order #8 (10/7/2024)

“Yeah, but they don’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, do they?” Order #9 (10/21/2024)

“Might I remind you that these walls aren’t sound proof.” 

“Need me to remind you on what happened last night?” 

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?” 

“But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.” 

“Lift your hips up for me.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.”

“Look at you, coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 

“Stop glaring at me like you don’t enjoy me teasing you.”

“I want to be the one fucking you this time.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re so responsive to my touch.”

“And I think you’d look fucking hot when you’re on top of me.” 

“Just sit on my fucking face already.” 

“S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

“You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.” 

“I’d fuck you right here, right now, if I could.” 

“Turn around.” 

“Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart.”

“I wanna eat you out so fucking bad.” “Then why don’t you?” Order #10 (10/23/2024)

“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.” 

“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.” (Personal) Order #11 (11/5/2024)

“I want you in the most sinful ways possible.” Order #5 (9/18/2024) + Order #6 (9/27/2024)

“Aww, how eager can you get?” 

“I want you to touch me like I’m the only thing you could ever want.” 

“You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.” Order #4 (9/13/2024)

“Shit, I’m so fucking hooked on you it’s not even funny.”

“You’d sound so good begging for it.”

“Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill.”

“I don’t care, I just need these clothes off so I can fully feel you against me.” 

~~~

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[fuck-customers]

It's so frustrating how we're forced to waste things working retail. A customer brought her brand new sewing machine in going 'look at how upset my daughter is! replace it!' (kid looked mortified tbh) when we were like oh we need to see if it's something we can fix or a provider fault etc but she was going spare. So she got her replacement, then we spent over an hour untangling the huge amount screw-ups she done to her machine (needle wrong way around, threaded wrong, NO BOBBIN??) but now we can't sell the machine even though it works a-okay. Sure we can keep it for behind the counter fixes and examples but that woman's stupidity wasted a machine. And now she's just going to do the same to her new one and come and yell at us again. We should fully be allowed to ream them back in return when they're proved as stupid as they seem (and I am someone with normally impeccable manners.) Those poor kids, having a mother like that.

I really want a new sewing machine but it's not in the current budget. Have looked at thrift stores but all the ones around here price them close to new even for 50 year old machines.

Oh yeah, FUCK THE CAPITALIST SYSTEM that makes so much unnecessary waste.

-Rodney

[lqfiles]

playing games , haechan

— synopsis ; a bored haechan and a stack of pencils leads to a childish game that ends rather unexpected.

pairing — haechan x reader

genre — fluff , somewhat humour

a.n ; it’s been a long time since i came here but heyyyy

wc — 1.7k

“god i’m so fucking bored.” haechan sighs out as he drops next to you on your couch. “don’t bring god into this.” you chuckle, your focus remaining on your laptop and pieces of paper that laid on the living room table. “well entertain me or something? why else am i here!” haechan rolled his eyes, though you couldn’t see that as your eyes still hadn’t left your laptop.

your good friend haechan decided that he’d show up unannounced and without any prior planning at your doorstep, begging you to let him in as the winter weather was doing what it was supposed to do. “what are you doing here?” you had asked him yet he only smiled telling you that he thought you might needed someone to support you in whatever you were doing. you weren’t stupid. him showing up at your door at 6 am only meant that jeno had refused to play a game with him. and like usual, you moved aside to let your friend in.

“did you forget that you came here unannounced because jeno didn’t want to play with you, and tried to mask it with you wanting to support me? whatever that means.” you glanced to your side to send haechan a small smile. “you’re annoying did you know that.” haechan smiles back, leaning over to see what you were doing. “what is this even? are you writing a thesis or something?” you could feel the cold he carried from outside hit your bare arms and slightly shivered, moving away. “no, it’s a job application.” haechan eyebrows perked at that response. “oh? what happened to your job at the book store?” he said moving back to the other side of the couch.

you shrugged. “boring, i don’t get paid well, the people are shit, and i’m pretty sure the old lady there hates me.” both you and haechan laughed. “you should work at my job, i promise you retail work is actually so much fun.” haechan nudged you, you shook your head in return. “i’m alright, i’m going to work at the one of those big shopping centres, well, i hope i get to work there.” you responded back before diverting your focus back onto the laptop.

a few minutes had passed and you didn’t even notice how silent it had gotten until haechan’s usual nasaly voice spoke, breaking the calm and silent setting you had created. “(—) i’m bored, do something i beg you.” haechan whined and groaned as he stretched his limbs. the request had caught you off guard, forgetting what you were about to type. “for fuck’s sake haechan be quiet for a second, I beg you.” you said, yet haechan let out another whiny noise. “i’m your guest and friend, can’t you, I don’t know, give me something to entertain myself with?” he asked you and you leaned away from your laptop. “fine.” you said, letting out an extended sigh before standing up with haechan following suit.

the two of you had made it to your room where you rummaged through your stuff before grabbing whatever was closest and shoving it into haechan’s hands. “pencils?” haechan asked dumbfounded. “pencils.” you repeated and walked past him to make your way back downstairs. “i am so lost, how do i entertain myself with this..” haechan entered the living room after some time. “I don’t know, you figure it out. you’re good at inventing stuff.” you mumbled as you were too busy filling in the applications.

“fine.” haechan scoffed as he sat on the ground near the table, placing the pencils on there. it took him some time to start moving around. he went from building a jenga tower to creating shapes with it, to just spinning the pencils around. “charlie charlie are you there?” haechan started before you pushed him. “don’t do that! not in my house i beg you.” you scolded him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “my bad.” he said before he sighed. though, soon enough he sat up with a small smile on his face.

“whoever this lands on is a major loser.” he announced before spinning one of the pencils. you hadn’t even caught onto what he said before he let out a small cheer. that’s when you looked up to see the pencil pointing closely towards you, haechan behind it with a victorious grin. “major loser it is.” he grinned wider. “whatever, ask another question and we’ll see.” and so the upcoming 20 minutes were spent with haechan spinning the pencils he had around as the questions got more personal and descriptive.

“whoever this lands on has to fulfil the other’s wish.” he said as he spun the pencil around. much to his surprise, it had ended up pointing straight to him, making you let out that victorious cheer he had done 20 minutes ago. “seems like tonight is going to be my lucky night. i want you go and make me some tea, with milk please.” you smiled yet haechan scoffed in return. “are you a child or something.” he said through gritted teeth as he stood up and went to make your tea.

“drink up because this time its going to be me who will be lucky.” he smiled, spinning the pencil and with one spin, it landed on you within a second. “aha!” haechan jumped up. you hadn’t even taken a sip from your tea. “my lucky day.” he grinned, sitting next to you on the couch and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “what should i do with you..” he pondered and you shrugged his arm off your shoulder, pushing him further away. “that’s not even fair, i wasn’t ready and you didn’t even say what the consequence for this spin was going to be.” you protested yet haechan shushed you by placing his finger in front of you. “uh uh, no talking back now. drink your tea while i come up with a wish.” he leaned back with a smug grin as he extended his arms on the couch.

he indeed took his time coming up with your wish, to the point you had already started working on your applications and had forgotten about it all. not until his obnoxious and teasing voice called you. “oh (—), guess who’s ready for a wish?” haechan teased, knowing it would piss you off as he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around you again. “hurry up haechan.” you hurried him, trying to break free from his grip yet he was stronger than you. “oh i’m ready.”

he leaned closer as he pointed his index finger to his now puckered lips. it took a second to figure out what he was suggesting before pushing him away. “fuck off.” you said as you tried to move away. “come on (—)! this was the deal, you can’t break deals.” he said as he chased after you who tried to move away further. “a kiss is something i will not do.” you refused, placing your hand in front of you lips, protecting them from haechan. you never knew what he could do, you never knew when it came to him.

“okay, then at least give it to me on the cheek, please?” he begged, coming closer as you continued to move, almost falling of the couch. “why do you want a kiss me from me so badly, you sound so desperate.” you rolled your eyes as your hand was still protecting your lips. haechan shrugged. “you’re cute and i haven’t kissed a cute girl in a while, it’s nothing serious come on.”

“well to you it isn’t but to me it is! this is going to ruin our friendship you dumbass.” you expected haechan to understand and backtrack but he once again shrugged. “well, at least i get to kiss a cute girl.” he said grabbing you by your arm and pulling you towards him. you sometimes forget how strong he really is as your body went almost flying and crashed into his, holding onto his shoulders for support. “so?” haechan had a smirk plastered on his face as he leaned closer.

“you’re such a desperate loser. only on the cheek.” you shook your head. “but i said-” “the cheek or not.” you interrupted him, letting one of your hands go from his shoulders to place it back in front of your lips. he chuckled. “don’t worry, my breath doesn’t stink if thats what you’re worried about!” haechan tried leaning in but you turned your head, making his lips touch the skin of your jaw instead. “stop moving!” he protested. “i told you it was going to be on your cheek you shithead. listen to me will you.” you turned his head away so his cheek was facing you. “whenever you’re ready.” he said and you could feel his smile from the way you were squishing his cheeks. you took a deep breath, preparing you for a change in the friendship the both of you had.

you slowly leaned in, your hand letting go of his cheeks as it rested on his other shoulder. you were a breath away from his cheek and just as you were about to fully lean in, the motion of haechan’s head turning and the texture of what felt like someone’s lips came in contact with you for a split second before you backed off. “haechan!”

“whoops, my bad i thought you were already done.” he grinned. “but that wasn’t so bad was it?” he leaned closer. “fuck you.” you turned away from him. “i thought you would never ask me.” he cheered as he pulled you back by your arm and placed his arms around you. “at least let me demonstrate to you how a proper kiss is supposed to be done.” he chuckled.

both of you were taken by surprise when you didn’t move away. “seems like you don’t mind, great!” he said as he leaned in, his head dipping into the crook of your neck from behind you. you stopped him. “at least let me turn around.” you scoffed lowly making him grin. “sorry your highness, i should’ve known you wanted to look into my beautiful eyes as you made out with me isn’t it.” he traced your jawline with his finger as a genuine smile was spread on his face. “who said i wanted to make out with you.”

“so you agree that my eyes are beautiful!”

thank you for reading!

[noa-de-cajou]

UUUUUUUURRRRRRGHHHHHHHH.

WORKING RETAIL THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE SUCKS.

There is no god up there, I'm telling you, because if there was he wouldn’t make me work in a mall filled with people and radio music all day long. But the fucking law degree I don't even want to get isn’t gonna pay itself, is it.

Only a few more months of this and I'll be free. Sure, working in a clothing store is a bazillion times better than when I was a cashier at a supermarket, because I'm more interested in fashion than I am in tuna cans, but still. Either I'm stuck sitting all day behind the counter, or I have to walk around with my fucking low-quality prothesis that hurts like a motherfucker because there's no room for a wheelchair in the fucking alleys and the crutch doesn't look corporate enough.

Let's not even talk about my colleagues. Some of them are sweet, but the others, GOD, I can't stand those bitches. Like, I'm all for gossip. But harmless gossip. Not gossip about how supposedly fat the clients are or how X or Y looks like a whore with a skirt on. The only times I join them is when they rate clients on how attractive they are, because it makes time go faster and purposefully giving ratings opposite to theirs is my only joy in this Rihanna-filled fast fashion hell.

And speaking about hell, today I'm on counseling duty and the shop is full, so I have to stand in the alleys with Clément and Alma. Clément is the only guy in the team but he's acclimated just fine, shittalking as much as the others do, and hitting on me repeatedly despite my obvious lack of interest. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, but the fact that I have two doesn’t mean I want his stupid fucking face anywhere near mine. I don't mention my sentimental life, certainly not my sex life either. They’d eat me alive. Especially Alma. Boy is she one of the meanest judgmental bitches I've ever met, and I'm pretty mean and judgmental too. Pretty sure she was a bully in middle school, and if she wasn't she would have been perfect for the job. Unfortunately she has the same as mine.

We’ve clocked in for the afternoon twenty minutes ago, they’ve rated ten people already, my prosthesis hurts like hell, my period’s coming soon, I think one of them isn't going to make it out alive if they let me stay in their close vicinity.

Deep breaths, Bronya. Chill. Do it for the money, do it for the moolah.

“Oh wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Clément whispers with a voice already dripping with cheap self-satisfaction. “Bronya, Bronya, check this out.”

God fucking damn it what is it n- Holy SHIT.

Wow. Uh. Okay. Wow. I must say I wasn't expecting an almost two meters tall woman with scars all over her face and the thickest glasses I've ever seen. I kinda get why she caught their attention. I mean, she's-

“Someone call the zoo, I think they lost their giraffe.”

… Yeah, of course, why did I even believe they’d be nice this time. My faith in humanity really is far too great.

And the insult isn’t even good. Alma should at least choose a hobby that she's good at. Or maybe annoying the shit out of me is her hobby, in which case she deserves a medal.

The tall girl goes about her business, hesitantly browsing through the clothes. She moves without any self-confidence at all, it's kind of sad. Because she isn’t just tall, she’s buff as fuck too. Maybe a bit lanky? But eh, that looks like someone who works out a bunch.

“What’s she even doing in the women’s section ?” Clément sneers. “The only thing that makes her one is…”

He makes a very not subtle gesture above his chest. Alma giggles.

“What, Clem, is she not your type?”

“Oh, you know my type.”

And he oggles me. He OGGLES ME.

“That girl's like, a three. The ten is right here.”

…

Is the money really worth it? Can’t I punch him in the face?

No. Calm down. Let's be CIVIL. Let’s be POLITE, shall we?

“For the hundredth time, Clément, knock it off. Also you should lower your expectations for women, because as far as I know, you're nobody's type yourself.”

So much for polite, but that’s never been my forte. Clément reddens, his eyelid twitches a little, but Alma’s there, so he laughs it off. Yeah, I know your kind, asshole. Too bad, I have standards on who gets to fuck me and you’re not meeting any.

“Wow, chill, Bronya! I’m just tryna be nice.”

“Well why don’t you try being nice to her then?” I mumble.

“Clem has a point, you know,” Alma chimes in. “When you shop in the women’s section, you should at least try to look like one! No, for me, she’s a two at best.”

Why doesn't she look like a woman? Is it the short hair? The muscles? The hoodie? The pants that are slightly too short? The overused sneakers? The scars?

Or are you just a fucking bitch?

Poor girl looks so confused, too. Clearly she's not used to shopping. And the other two keep throwing in names and little pesky remarks instead of doing what they're paid to do.

Screw it.

“You guys are dicks.”

I limp away from them and towards the girl without leaving room for a reply. My artificial leg creaks with each step but I don’t give a shit at this point.

Fuck, she’s really tall. I have to break my neck to look at her, we’re like forty centimeters apart. She looks down at me, nervously, and I clear my throat.

“Do you need help looking for something?”

Shit. I forgot the customer service smile, and my tone was really dry. She doesn't look thrown off though. More like relieved.

“Um… Yeah. Kind of. I have an important meeting with someone. On… On New year's. And I want to look nice for it, but I don’t own any smart outfits and…”

She glances down at the dresses she was looking through a second ago, and sighs. I don't think she’s that much older than me, now that I look closely. There’s also a big golden pendant dangling around her neck, it looks kind of out of place.

“Well, even if there was my size, I don’t think any of these would look good on me.”

Not look good on her? Has she seen herself in the mirror? Hell, I don’t care what the others say, she's gorgeous.

… Okay. I'm going to find this girl a good outfit no matter what. That’s my mission now.

“I'm sorry, the fashion industry really sucks. Especially for women who don’t fit the arbitrary standards. You might not find a dress your size, but would a suit work?”

She blinks, clearly she didn't expect that. She thinks about it, I can almost see the little thought bubble over her head. She’s kind of adorable.

“I mean… Yeah. I would feel more comfortable in a suit, I think.”

“Let’s see what we can find for you, then. Do you mind if it's from the men’s section?”

She shakes her head. Great. I gesture for her to follow me, and she blinks.

Oh. Did she only notice the prosthesis just now? She really doesn’t have much awareness. At least she didn’t hear all the shittalking, I guess.

I feel stares on us. With her scars, she must get a lot of those, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s looking around with eyes filled with something between absolute terror and full-blown marvel.

That reminds me of a certain someone.

Hanko was so thrilled when I took him for shopping. He had never went before.

Ugh. I really don't need to think about him right now.

I get stares too, because of my leg. It doesn’t really affect me much anymore.

It shouldn’t, at least.

I get to the suit jackets and start looking for one that would fit. With her hair and eyes, I'd go for red or black… Eh, let's go with black. Looks good with anything. Maybe she'll need a shirt, too… Well, that’s where the red will go then.

She looks at me anxiously. Uh. Maybe making conversation will help?

“What’s the occasion-”

“Um, I was just wondering if-”

Oh, crap, she wanted to speak, uh, shit, fuck –

“Uh, sorry, go ahead –”

“No, you first!” she exclaims a bit too loud.

“But you looked like you wanted to ask me something –”

“I-It can wait. What was your question?”

… Welp. Seems like she lost the courage. Great job, Bronya. Might as well ask what I was going to ask, then.

“What’s the occasion? The thing you’re going to on new year’s. Something fancy?”

She… She blushes. Like crazy. Oh. Ohoooooo. A date? Might be a date. That’s the gossip I'm down for. I must be smiling a little too wide because she gets even redder.

“I… No, it's not like that. It’s just…”

She re-adjusts her glasses. There’s a weird expression on her face. Nervous, but sort of hopeful. Her fingers graze her necklace. Probably a gift, then.

“I'm reuniting with someone I haven’t seen since middle school and I really want to look better than… you know, this. I don’t want her to think I'm letting myself go, you know?”

Aww. Okay, that’s cute. Sounds like she cares a lot about whoever she’s gonna meet up with. Better handle it with the same amount of care, then.

“Okay. So. If it’s nothing formal, I think the suit jacket and a shirt would do great. You can also wear normal pants instead of suit pants if you don't want to look too overdressed.”

She looks down at her feet.

“... But all the pants I own show my ankles.”

“Not a problem. If you pair it with the right socks and shoes, I can assure you it looks very trendy. Do you have some nice shoes?”

Because as comfy as they look, those sneakers have seen better days and I bet they don’t offer any protection against snow or rain. Luckily, she nods.

“My sister is going to get me some for Christmas. I know it's needed.”

God, she looks so tense. I raise my prosthesis, she looks on with confusion.

“Well, I would have loved to advise you on shoes as well, but as you can see, I only need one.”

She doesn't erupt in laughter or anything, but that gets a snort out of her. Hehe. Nailed it. I hold out the shirt and jacket I picked up.

“Care to try them on?”

The determination on her face as she nods is really funny. And kind of cute. I lead her to one of the dressing rooms, like you’d do with a kid.

“Hum… Could you give me an opinion once I'm done? If that's okay, of course. I really don’t want to keep you, I know it’s busy this time of year…”

Oh with that kind of consideration she can keep me all she wants – I mean what. Focus, Bronya, focus.

“Yeah, sure thing. Take your time!”

I stand outside and wait. The store has gotten busy again. Clément eyes me from afar, I ignore him, and he rushes to help Alma who seems to be in a pinch with an old bitch. That’s karma for you.

I hear the noise of fabric ruffling inside. She's probably taking off her hoodie or t-shirt right now. I wonder if she's really muscular or if it's just an illusion because of her body type. Huh…

Wait, what the hell? Don’t imagine what a client looks like without her clothes. That's creepy. Well, technically it’s part of my job, to picture what clothes would fit best depending on the body, but still! No! Nope! Not her! Not like that! Not-

“Um… I'm done.”

She pushes the curtain open and – oh my god. Oh god. Oh fuck. Shit. Um. Wow.

I’ve never, and I mean never seen someone wear a suit jacket like she does. Like it… it’s just… she’s just…

“You’re perfect.”

She blinks. I blink. OH SHIT I SAID THAT OUT LOUD COME ON THINK THINK THINK SAY SOMETHING-

“I-It looks perfect on you, I mean!”

That's… Ugh, that's not much better, but at least it’s gotta be a little less out of line, right?!

She smiles. Oh fuck, she smiles. With all of her teeth. And it just lights up her entire face, her eyes glint behind her glasses.

“Is that why you're all red now, Bronya?”

Huh? Huh???

Hold up, where exactly did the shyness from earlier go?! That's not fair. That is so totally not fair –

… Wait a minute.

“How do you know my name?”

The embarrassment dawns on her face again. She can't dodge that question, the sellers don't wear name tags here.

“I… sort of guessed it was you? I’m actually a second year in psychology, and you're pretty popular at uni. You write in their newspaper, right? I always read your column. It's cathartic.”

Huh? She…

First off, I didn’t take her for a student at all, certainly not a year behind me. Second, I had no fucking idea I was known to the point that second year psychology students talk about me. Third, she reads my columns. She actually reads my columns. Holy crap.

“I… Uh… Thanks. I'm sorry I never noticed you before, I just… I guess we don't see you guys often?”

Because if I had seen her before, I’d definitely remember it.

“It’s okay. I only saw you from afar before, or heard about you from other people, so I'm glad I can finally speak to you in person.”

And she says it… not really excitedly, but she looks so sincere. She sounds so earnest. I have no idea how to react to that. I’m not prepared for this.

“I mean… Well, nice to meet you, I guess, uh…?”

“Lubell.”

Lubell. Even her name is pretty.

“Well, I sure hope I live up to the rumors, Lubell.”

“Hm… I wouldn’t say that. There's something the rumors never told me about you.”

She smiles again. And it's more timid, but it's still…

“You’re really kind.”

…

Well that's…

I've received tons of compliments before but…

That one…

Is definitely…

New.

Fuck.

“I'm… just doing my job.”

“Well, it feels like much more than that to me, so thank you.”

She does a little turn with the jacket and the shirt on. Clément and Alma really must have shit in their eyeballs because that's a definite ten. Or a twelve. Hell, that's a twenty.

“I think I'll buy those, in any case. I’ll see you at uni, then?”

Oh god. She wants to see me again. Don't be weird.

“Um, yeah, sure. I’m glad you… like the clothes.”

She smiles again, pulls the curtain back. I try really really hard to not think about her movements in there but my head’s a mess. Oh the horrifying ordeal of being known. She gets out with her hoodie on and my heart doesn't slow down at all.

“Thanks again. I’ll tell you how it goes next year. And I'll write a review on the store website to say that a very kind ginger employee helped me.”

And off she goes to pay, leaving me standing there gawking and blushing like an idiot. What the hell is wrong with me today? Well, what isn’t would be a better question.

A hand pats me on the shoulder. It’s Mireille. Mireille’s a forty-year old woman with hair dyed red and the manager for today, which is good because I like her and right now she seems pretty pleased with me.

“Nice job, Bronya. I've seen that girl go in and out of at least five other stores here. But look at her now, going home with brand new clothes and a smile. And we gain a new client. Some people could learn a thing or two from you.”

She shoots a disapproving look towards Clément and Alma, both back to gossiping in a corner, before patting my shoulder.

“Well, I’m going to go be the Big Bad Manager with them for a minute. You take a break, alright? And then back to work, missy. Those clothes aren’t gonna sell themselves!”

And she leaves to go yell at my dearest colleagues. Maybe there is a god up there. At any rate, I'm grateful for the free break and the calm it brings. I sit on a bench to massage my leg a little, let my thoughts go a little astray, as a treat.

Lubell, huh. She has a pretty smile. A pretty face. She’s just pretty.

You're kind.

I’m not. I’m really not. But it's nice to hear.

I’ll tell you how it goes.

So she really intends to see me again.

Wow.

My face is hot.

Maybe this job isn't so shitty after all.

[iris-eyez]

Like here's the thing...

Some people like working retail. They like folding clothes and helping people buy things and managing a store.

Some people like working as teachers. They like going into work and helping children learn and grading papers.

Some people like being librarians and helping people discovering books. And coming up with programs to give to their patrons.

Some people like being baristas. They like making coffee and getting creative with the drinks that they make. They like chatting with regulars and helping people discover what flavors they do and don't like.

Some people like working fast food. They like the fast pace. They like the almost game like aspect of it where you have to get people what they need as fast as people. They like prepping the food in the same way every time being it relaxes and soothes them.

Some people like cleaning garbage. They like beautifying and organizing space. They like knowing that the work that they do helps the world stay beautiful and keeps plants, animals, and people safe and clean. They like the meditative quality of it and sometimes they can teach others the importance of keeping spaces clean or maybe just finding new and interesting people to talk to.

BUT WE CANNOT DO THAT BECAUSE NO ONE IS PAYING A LIVING WAGE.

I wish I could just stay at home and spend my life reading and reviewing books and writing my silly little stories on my silly little tumblr. Self publish a book or two maybe once or twice a year and just spend my life in my own personal library just encouraging others to read.

BUT I CANT DO THAT. BECAUSE THAT DOESN'T PAY ME ENOUGH. SO I AM STUCK HERE WORKING MY ASS OFF IN A JOB I DON'T LIKE BUT DON'T HATE SLOWLY GRINDING MY LIFE AWAY.

I think that is why I am so stuck on wage transparency and pressuring Congress to raise the minimum wage. Like people want to do those jobs that seem menial and stupid. They LIKE those jobs. They deserve to be able to do them and live the lives they want.

A Garbage Collector deserves to collect the garbage and take their family to Disney should they want to.

A Librarian deserves to shelve their books and then go home and spend however much they want on their Pokemon collection.

If a teacher who spends way too much time on grading wants to spend their summer backpacking across Europe to unwind from the school year they should be able to do that with having to worry about losing their house.

All jobs are worthy of dignity and respect and this is why we need labor unions and higher minimum wage and companies to stop buying up all the fucking houses. Like there are so many problems in this country I have no idea which one to tackle first, but I know who to blame.

Fuck you Ronald Reagan.

[pagerspages]

Professionalism and Neurodiversity

I’ve been working since I was 15 years old. I worked a summer job at a cherry processing factory the summer between my sophomore and junior years, the summer between my junior and senior years, and the summer after I graduated high school. I went straight from working at the factory to my first full-time job working at a gas station. I worked at the gas station for four years. I then moved to a big box retail store working in their automotive department doing oil changes and tire work. I worked then as a service writer/adviser at the same shop, and then I moved inside the store to work as a sales associate.  

All of these times I have had ‘problems’ with my brain. I had severe anxiety when I first started working at the gas station. I almost quit a week into it because working with money stressed me out. I also got a talking to from my boss for not being personable with the customers and at least greeting them. The customers really didn't want to talk to me either but that's neither here nor there. I did not know the extent of my Neurodiversity until way after this. 

I thought it would be just a silly funny thing to do if I took the RAADs Autism assessment. (I will at no time during this post claim I have autism because I have not been officially diagnosed.) This funny silly little thing to do really sent me down a rabbit hole when I scored 140. To put that in perspective no Neurotypical would score above a 64. I’ve shared this with friends and they haven’t been very surprised? I guess I haven’t always masked as well as I thought I have.

Anyways working while being Neurodivergent sucks. I consider myself lucky because I can work. I even enjoy working sometimes. Other times I just need to leave and I can’t. There have been times where I’ve literally had to tell a customer on the phone to hold so I could just close my eyes and ears and block out all the noises. The phone is right next to the window out to the shop as well as the register. There are times where my coworkers are ringing someone up and talking to them, the techs are making loud noises and there’s an announcement going on the PA system all while the customer is trying to get me to give them a price on tires and I just can’t fucking handle it. 

I am a people pleaser. I don’t like to tell people no. I think this has a lot to do with my anxiety thinking that people won’t like me anymore if I tell them no and I’m no longer useful to them. I think it’s also become part of my mask. My mask is this really helpful guy that knows what he’s talking about, does his job well and will help others do their job and whatever is asked of them with minimal complaining. And yes I see my mask as a male even though I now consider myself nonbinary, idk why. 

I’ve been asked before what career I want. No one likes it when I say I don’t want one. Like literally my only big goal in life is to be happy. I stupidly said this during a job interview once and unsurprisingly didn’t get the job. I don’t want my whole life to revolve around trying to get a better and better job and unfortunately for me in this stupid ass economy that really doesn’t work.  

I’m not sure what this post was supposed to be tbh. Maybe I just want to rant. Maybe I want someone to find this and read it and relate to it so we both know that we aren’t alone in how we feel. Maybe I just want validation from strangers on the internet. Who knows why I do anything at this point. I sure as hell don’t. 

[bungacow]

Tick Tick Tick: The Human Fear of Wasting Time

Right now as I'm typing this I am nineteen years old reaching the end of my teenage years and realizing that I spent the last seven years of my life in a very stereotypical way. Obsessing over boys. Even right now I'm sitting through an hour-and-a-half-long movie because Leigh Whannell is in it for about three seconds. As much as I'd like to say I regret the way I've continuously chosen to spend my time, I don't, not even a little bit, but as I near the dreaded label of "young adult" I wonder if I would have been better off with a more productive hobby.

The fear of wasting your life starts very early, maybe even the second you are born. I wouldn't be surprised if my very first thought was "Man, I wish I would've come out of there sooner, now I've gotta make up for those nine months of doing nothing with my life. How lazy of me.". I believe the real start of this fear is high school. When you take pubescent teenagers and tell them that they better do good in school now or it'll fuck them up for the rest of their lives. The words "Permanent record" illicit an incredibly strong fear response in teens and ex-teens.

I think telling children to figure out their entire life plan at the ripe age of fourteen is irresponsible. Ask any thirty-year-old on the street what their plans are even just for that afternoon and you'll soon realize how ridiculous it is to ask someone to plan a career for themself before they're even able to drive. I know I personally have gone through at least six different potential careers and still here I am working part-time at a retail store with nothing but a high school diploma.

That may be the worst part of it all, I'm only nineteen and it feels like my life is already getting away from me before I even get a chance to actually live it. Anyone over the age of thirty-five is audibly scoffing reading that and I have to admit it's dramatic and untrue but the fear is so ingrained in me that I can't see passed it. Realistically, I know that I've got an entire lifetime ahead of me and I'm only just starting, but when your entire life so far has only been nineteen years long...it's hard to see the big picture when you've only lived the little one.

I'm starting to make peace with the fact that I spent my teens writing fan fiction about hot guys and very little else. On the surface, it seems stupid to do nothing but fawn over forty-year-old men for months but if you look deeper than that I actually have a lot to show for it. With these obsessive crushes, I've gained knowledge and appreciation for a wide variety of subjects such as music, screenwriting, comedy, directing, acting, painting, and poetry.

Where you see a teenage girl with a photo of Gerard Way in her phone case, I see a teenage girl who was inspired to learn to play bass and write music of her own. Where you see a girl with a button of Rodrick Heffley on her bag, I see a girl who just discovered the wonders of DVD audio commentaries for the first time, a girl who just thought about film scoring in a way she didn't think to before, and a girl who just unknowingly developed an appreciation for guyliner.

So while maybe a little unconventional, my methods of navigating the world around me and learning more about the art that I one day hope to create myself have worked as well as any other. Sure, maybe I could've just taken a music appreciation class or sat through a screenwriting lecture, but it's much more fun this way.

Maybe I'll keep this up forever and be forty-eight crushing on a ninety-year-old who paints. All I know right now is I'm perfectly content with the idea of being permanently boy-crazy. Maybe I'll grow up one day and realize how little good centering my life around men has done for me, but for now, I will be sitting in front of my TV waiting for Leigh Whannell to come back on screen.

Anya out. xx

[laylanatorseventeen]

I HAAAATTTEE being back with customers.

Man: where is plumbing it used to be here, but I haven't been in this store for fifteen years

Me: plumbing is over here in the forties! *walks him to back aisle and points to clearly labeled aisles saying 40, 41, etc*

Man: *stares blankly*

Me: ok it's in the forties over here! *Starts walking him there*

Man: hardware.

Me: sorry?

Man: *points to hanging sign above us* this is hardware. I need plumbing.

Me, thinking: yes................you see....... Sometimes you have to walk through an area........to get to a different area.........

At this point I spotted someone who works in plumbing and I darted ahead to foist him onto them. As we turn around so I can point to the man I find him asking another employee. If they know where plumbing is. MY DUDE ARE YOU STUPID. I WAS LEADING YOU TO PLUMBING. I AM FIVE FEET AWAY I DID NOT ABANDON YOU IM GETTING SOMEONE WHO KNOWS WHAT THE FUCK THE FAUCET PART YOURE HOLDING IS. HAVE YOU SCORNED NOT JUST THIS STORE BUT EVERY RETAIL STORE FOR THE LAST FIFTEEN YEARS!!!!! I SWEAR TO GOD ITS LIKE TALKING TO A BRICK WALL WITH SOME OF YOU PEOPLE

[anymal28]

@bonesby I probably did this wrong, but here ya go

🎱 - 0, I literally have no finished works to even post

🍓 - I have not posted any works yet. But basically no one was writing the stories I was looking for. I also have great ideas and suck at making characters for said ideas.

🌵 - Might be my own👀 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0OueUGpDtDuRAFljBrZJtn?si=Moy5y7aRSguNXYxFoQpDaA&pi=u-JFkaI__xQo2Y

🕯 - Friends works: 9/10. I like helping them out and being one of the first to read their works, plus they're both stupid good at writing

My Works: 2/10, I'm my own worst enemy. I recently went back to edit a wip and am very close to deleting the whole thing and rewriting it.

🛼 - 🔫🗡🔪🥷💣

🥑 - @bonesby & @louisapennyfeather2021

🥤- 0KKULTiC : We Would Be Savage series on ao3

inexperiencedandconfused8 on ao3

GoAwayOlivia : Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw on ao3

I have many suggestions

💌 - 0 actually

🌻 - Literally anyone who follows me

🐇 - If yall ever catch me writing reader inserts, just know I did it as a joke and Hell must've froze over

🧃 - I am asthmatic

🎲 - Lack of motivation

🍄 - NOT A SHIP, but Dick Grayson 100% eats cheerios by picking them up with his tongue and Jason hardcore judges him for it even tho Jason does the same thing with chips cause he refuses to get his fingers cheesy.

🧸 - Talk to me and dont stop talking to me no matter how awkward things get. I'm very bad at keeping up communications.

🪐 - One of my goats finally had her babies, I finally get to bring my other goat home from the hospital, I dont have to bottle feed anything yet.

📚 - This prompt

🍬 - I'm not educated enough for this

🔪 - The explicit details on the different sections of the human spine and how all of them function and which parts of the body would be affected depedning on which part of the spine was damaged. Also retail store security tags.

🦷 - You can only heat something up twice before it starts to make you sick

❄️ - Literally anything found family, I'm such a sucker for that. Anyone could write it good honestly.

🌿 - Change the space you're writing in. If you're writing in your bedroom, go to a different room. Change up the environment.

🥐 - "crazy, I was crazy once..."

🏜 - Have not received any cause have not posted any

🍦 - I GUESS he is loyal, he got better at communicating, and hes not AS horrible as before

🥝 - Not really, its more of a waste of breath to lie a lot. I did lie to my Grandpa about my goat's vet bill

🦋 - The fucking quote of "Farming teaches you how to be totally responsible and completely useless"

🦴 - Literally anything found family. Im a sucker for that

🍅 - The character's responses and reactions need to change and be more thought out for the scene. It doesn't match who they are. The entire situation is written okay, but definitely not the best and can be improved.

🐚 - In story writing, surprises are great. Irl, no.

🪲 - [ Hiding and watching in the shadows of the setting sun, he could make Alchemy, Arachne, and Wendigo. With the sight of them came another pang of worry. Who would help heal them when they got injured on patrol? Granted all of them were very careful, but slip ups happen. There were one or two other vigilantes and allies that could help, but he worried they wouldn’t be able to do much when it came to the bigger, more serious stuff. And Arachne? He hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Maybe Alchemy could keep a close eye on her. ]

☁️ - Literally the name I've had since the dawn of time. Its just a play on the word "animal".

🐝 - @bonesby : the bestest person someone could have in their life. Literally you have not won anything if you dont have someone like them.

@louisapennyfeather2021 : Everyone needs someone like them in their corner. They're like the devil on my shoulder except they're constantly trying to keep me from doing dumb shit.

🌸 - Too many. Pics below. In order: Dakota, Charlie, Octavian, Augustus, Tommy, Dillion, Ponk, Maverick, Nora, Oakapi. I have more goats if anyone's interested💀

🎨 - I dont even have any rn, I wouldn't be able to find the ones I used to love, but I know it was Percy Jackson.

🧩 - A lot. Specifically certain smut tags. Porn without plot. Too many smut tags. Incest. There's a lot, and I usually dont know until I see it

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

[femme-enby]

So at this point, if it hasn’t been clear or you haven’t seen a post where I explicitly state it:

I actively work overnight maintenance (the nice word for janitor that the company uses, like how my seasonal job refers to the same position as ‘park services’ and considers MAINTENANCE to be the not nice term) at a retail store.

Due to a combo of size, traffic, and the amount of money the store makes, it’s also considered something like “super megaplex” or whatever. Thought that was funny, considering.

Anyway, I just thought of somethin:

My job generally says that if we’re deep cleaning the bathrooms, we’ve got to completely block them off & no one but the person cleaning them is allowed in (Safety concern).

Now I gotta do this by trying to block off the entrances with my cleaning cart & a trashcan or two, but obviously folks ain’t always the brightest, and will even strong arm a can out of the wedged in position between my cart and the door… the music is also stupid loud in the bathrooms so I often have both earbuds in and turned up a bit, along with this horrid habit of giving folks more credit than due.

So, obviously, that means I’ve turned around to someone standing in the bathroom like

🧍

Staring at me. Like they fuckin spawned in there and are surprised to see me cleaning the bathroom that was blocked off.

And, because again, I give humans more credit than most deserve, I am jumpscared every single fucking time.

I’m talkin, jerking back and clutchin my pearls in shock. Where tf did you come from and why are you here??

All that to say- imagine working at the plex as maintenance, and you get to have those lil wet floor bots guard the bathroom doors? I’d trust them with my life.

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

hey also i need the customers at work to fuck off for real. Since 2020 I have masked. I mask at work. I've worked one holiday at this stupid big chain retail candle store & this DID NOT happen that year. But this year. 2024.... I've had 3 fucking ppl to varying degrees directly ask me why I'm wearing a mask. One woman was super upset by me masking, demanding I inform her if I have COVID bc she can't get COVID (she was not wearing a mask let me be very clear). Another customer asked if I was sick and why I was masking. Today yet another customer looked at my mask and went "are you with something? got something?" throwing me off guard because wtf am i with something??? And when I told her "I just mask" she was thrown off and then had to act like "oh ha ha, well good on you, we are all out here doing our part" like. wtf is up? huh? I'm going to jump over this counter and start beating you to death if you're not careful

[kyliafanfiction]

I really need tips from you on how to work in a "people interfacing" field despite being a misanthrope? I couldn't even handle working retail years ago, let alone running the store and being the one everyone complains to, so I really admire you and don't know how you do it. I may have to leave my current remote job where I wear pajamas all day and 99% of the time and get to email in lieu of (ugh) talking to people, so I really need tips on how you interact with people successfully all day despite being as much of an introverted curmudgeon as I am!

Practice, Practice, Practice. I worked retail relatively fresh out of college and I got fired from two jobs in a year. The second one was explicitly for not being 'personable' enough.

Then I got a job working phone calls for a clinic - I called patients to followup about referrals and stuff - and five years of that did a lot to help give me a certain degree of resilience about dealing with people (helped that it was over the phone and I could roll my eyes without them seeing it).

I don't get a lot of complaints, and most of the ones I get are easily ignorable (I used to have these fun cocktail napkins that said stuff like 'Happy Fucking Birthday' in colorful lettering, or 'Welcome to the Shitshow' and I once got so annoying old biddy bitching about them being there, even though they were above the eye level of small children). It's a small town, and small town politeness is oft-overstated, but is a thing. Also, bookstores just tend to attract a smarter caliber of person.

But really, lots of practice. And, frankly, as indicated by the state of my sales over the last 3 years, I may be 'just passable' at dealing with the public. :sweat_smile:

Bottle it up and then swear and rant at them after they've left helps a lot with me (as long as no one else is in the store). Venting here on tumblr about it helps (most of my 'Kylia Owns a Bookstore Now' posts are me venting about stupid customers. Being my own boss helps, so I don't have someone demanding impossible levels of upbeat from me.

The fact that I can read or catch up on online stuff between customers coming in, or while someone is browsing the shelves quietly or whatever is also a big help in letting me recharge my batteries. But during the busiest times of the year - Christmas Shopping season for instance - it can get quite exhausting.

Perhaps not the most generalizable advice, my circumstances are atypical for the average retail employee.

[hughesquinn]

Ooo I love the idea of Jack taking Nico home for Christmas. Like the possibilities; Nico meeting the family, presents, and of course the mistletoe as you said.

👀👀👀 girl Jack (I may recently have fallen into rule 63 hockey players. Like please turn all these men into girls and let me date them)

😓 ugh I used to work at a restaurant and the waitresses had to id people so they’d try to make a joke of it or just be like *high pitch extra girly and extroverted voice* ha ha i have to id anyone buying alcohol

Anyway the Nico and Jack as retail workers makes me think of this one sid/claude internship fic except I don’t see Nico and Jack pretending that their tension is hatred. I love non-hockey coworker fics.

yaya!!!! I feel like itd be soooo fun to write but id be so worried as I am. single and ive never done anything like that bro ill be awkward 😭

YA GIRL JACK <3 hold on I do actually love what I have let me show u one thing

ya id-ing :[ it is so fucked at my job because we have to id for alcohol, tobacco and cigs n stuff, and lighters and spray paint and we Have to type in their dob into the system (so I can just. if I know it type it) but we are on Camera I refuse to be fined so i have been yelled at sm by dudes and one dude got pissed at me when I was alone and there was a line and told me I was fucking stupid 😭

omg here is the thing tho,,, in the fic they Woukd actually have genuine tension with disliking each other bc. idk if id make nico the manager just bc of how it is (prob would make someone older on the team) but at the very least they r both assistant store managers and Get Under Each Others Skin

[selamat-linting]

man, the working conditions in this country are bad. i know a girl who worked in an NGO and her hours are ridiculous. a couple of times she had to leave town and when she came back home at 2 am she's expected to go back to work at 6 in the morning. my friend, the patrick bateman wannabe, he worked at a retail chain store during the pandemic and he have to pay for his own covid test everytime he gets symptoms (which was often because he was an essential worker with chronic illness) and he didnt get paid while he's on sick leave. a few months ago my sister was a temp worker in a cafe but she might as well be a staff who just dont have the benefits nor the job security because they kept calling her to come to work. even if she's permanently hired she will never get any substantial promotion because the hotel management spesifically stated they dont want their management position to be filled with people who might be distracted with childcare (women). my mom worked 10 hours six days a week cleaning hotel rooms to pay for my education and she was paid only 2/3 of the minimum wage there. my crush had to work from 5 am to 6 pm in his current job and the stress was too much he got sick on the first month of working there. i know another guy working as a courier and his job also required him to work 10-12 hours. hell, all of my previous jobs had a special day every week where it doesnt count as part of your job but you still had to come to do extra 4 hour work on top of your regular shifts. or jobs where they dont count the extra hours needed to close after a busy day. there was a point in my life where a coworker had to take me home almost everyday because we got overtime until its 1 am. the job i have now has much better hours but im still expected to be on-call everyday just in case a customer wanted something and i have to go see them. and my customers, if theyre not bougie, theyre a part of the working class that gets paid better than the rest of us and still they have unpaid overtime and stress that drains their will to have a hobby outside of getting shitfaced with your coworkers once a month. i was in trade school and one of my first memory of being there was seeing my classmates who majored in operating and fixing heavy mining equipments, most of them boys as young as 15, watching a "workplace safety" video that mostly consists of pictures of people getting crushed by cranes and trucks, and learning to accept that yes, there is a chance you'll die and there's nothing you can do about it. by the time im 20 years old i already know two cases where a friend of a friend died on their retail job from overwork. my crush almost died in a workplace accident once! i havent even talked about how my other friend wanted to be a nurse, to the point of advertising that her kidney was on sale on facebook marketplace, only to realize how little they get paid despite the expensive education, long working hours, and the health risks. i haven't even talked about the kind of shit sex workers here face on the job. or the little kids in my town who had to walk 10 kilometers a day every night before school selling tissue boxes and snacks to help pay the rent! its 2023 and child labor is still a thing! there are kids as young as eight years old who had to help their parents make stone bricks! and the worst part of how things get this bad is that we did try to stop things from getting worse. the working class in my country did organize and made progress, but we were all fucking killed for it. it wasnt just the us backed genocide in the 60s or the kidnappings in the 90s, there was so many cases of state repression that get swept under the rug. so no, i dont use morals when it comes to the bourgeoisie. i dont have sympathy and i wont make excuses when i say would kill even the children of the ultra-wealthy if i have to. theyre lucky my organizing job right now is talking to people and making stupid little pamphlets instead of shooting them.

[dycefic]

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!