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hollyhomburg · 4 years ago

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Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 7)

(Hybrid au) (YoonMinJoon x Reader) (Mafia au)

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer.

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Genre: Hybrid au, Polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Tags: Domestic abuse, references to sexual abuse- and choosing to have sex even though you’ve been through sa, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, mute characters, brief gore at the end, pregnant m/c, frottage, marking kink, fingering, oral f. receiving, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied death but dont worry I do not write MCD!!!!

A/n: just for posterity's sake! i was drunk when i posted this! enjoy! full gangbang comes in (y/n) next chapter! (oh god im going to hell).

W/c: 10.5k

Song Rec: Like Real People do ~ Hozier

~ Series Masterlist ~

2 Years Earlier

- If Jeon Jungkook where so esoterically inclined, he would write a book on how he had become the most dangerous man in the underworld. It would be a short book though; because Jungkook had only 2 rules for himself. The first was to always get up after he’d been hit during a fight (even if it took him a second) and the second was to know when to mind his own business.

- Jungkook was always able to get up after being hit, Even when he’d been a street kid, with not a penny to his name and a whole lot of anger in his mouth. ready to spit vitriol at anyone who would pause and listen. He’d always been able to get up. The pain giving him a kind of sick clarity that he eventually sought out instead of tried to escape. Jungkook could never think as clearly as he did during a fight; or when he was in pain. And that was probably because of his father.

- But whatever. That man was 6 feet under, (his mother on the other hand- no- that bitch certainly had more than one dept to pay still). He didn’t have a lot of time or energy to put into dealing with that particular trauma (why he honestly felt like sometimes- he liked being hit). Most of his energy went into staying alive. Even now- when living and surviving teetered on the same edge. Jungkook had more pressing matters to tend to than dealing with his own fragile mind.

- The way he would get up and hop around for a second to soak in the clarity after being hit during a scuffle was one of the reasons why he’d been given his street name: The Playboy Bunny; further set in stone with his tattoo of the same moniker under his left eye. A cheekbone he’d tap and say “you want to hit me? why don’t you try your luck and see how well it turns out for you.”

- He was doing reconnaissance, Sneaking around the back alley with his hood up and his glasses on- disguising his black eye that was sure to get more than a few looks from passers-by. The ears of the playboy bunny tattoo peeking out over the top of his mask.

- He keeps his eyes on the crowd waiting for some sort of handoff- to see anything at all. But he’d lost his target through the crowd and has no drive to find them in the dizzying rush of people and umbrellas. Not yet. Not when the hum of addiction lurks in his veins.

- Jungkook pauses lighting a cigarette, when a commotion to the side hidden around a corner- blurs his concentration. The world snapping back into focus when he sinks his fingernails into his palm. Terse voices. A couple fighting in the alleyway perpendicular to his.

- Minding his own business was a particular skill of his- it took one kind of person to know when to step in, and another to know which problems weren't worth the headache. And unless it involved the acquisition money or some step therein, it wasn’t a problem worth getting into in Jungkook’s opinion.

- But Jungkook can’t stop his ears from hearing snippets of conversation, a low and angry male voice. The sound of a smack. “You just had to embarrass me like that, didn’t you? First, you come out dressed like a slob and then you act like a fucking whore- I swear if I see you give eyes to another man this week I'll beat you five ways to Sunday”

- The sound of a soft female voice, so quiet- almost indistinguishable from the pouring rain, “I wasn’t-” another smack.

- Jungkook has been hit so many times he knows the sound of it, the ragged gasp the woman lets out, also quite- like even the pain takes up too much space.

- His body starts to move before his mind thinks it through as he gives up position in favor of investigating the noise. There he sees it, ivy growing up the wall next to the back exit of some restaurant. A woman, small crouching in front of a grotesque man. A baggy coat buttoned tight around her small form. hair swept back in a tight bun. Red lipstick smudged. Though you check your hands and think its blood for a moment before you remember you’re wearing it.

- Jungkook waits for a moment before he watches you stand on shaky legs. you get up.

- The rest of the underworld might be old grudges and blood feuds but Jungkook was only here to be a businessman. He didn’t have time for ego and arrogance, let alone time for altruism...

- Usually.

- He looks on for a moment, too sluggish without nicotine, but Jungkook’s lingering stare almost seems to spur the man on. He’s wearing a jacket with a military patch, a badge; some sort of congratulation for service done no doubt. and Jungkook feels his distaste for the man deepen.

- “What you looking at punk?” he slurs. Stalking forward as if to shove Jungkook. He almost wants to tut- that would be an expensive action. Jungkook wonders if the man is maybe high or drunk or both. He’s has had his fair share of experience with junkies and he knows one when he sees one.

- “Nothing, just a pig beating his girlfriend.” The man settles for shoving Jungkook back. And Jungkook lets him. You don’t look up, don’t do anything but lean to the side, like the brick wall is the only thing keeping you up. Jungkook sees the back of your hand, black and blue, the other bruises on your neck. You only make eye contact with him once. Just slightly. Barely in passing.

- You look like Jungkook used to look. He remembers in the savage bite of an open-handed slap- the fear he sees in your eyes. He looks and looks. And it aches so viscerally as Jungkook watches you go, your hurt echoes through him. You look beaten down and broken like Jungkook used too; before he’d decided he was done taking punches from people who were supposed to love him- Were supposed to care.

- (Before he realized life wasn't supposed to hurt)

- He’s never been one to feel things for other people, the empathy sparing him through most of the suffering he’s seen. It’s not that he’s unfeeling; it’s just that Jungkook’s life has forced him to feel concerned only for himself and no one else. His own survival is his first priority; Not others.

- He watches you walk away, And you don’t look back at him. Rushing to keep up with your husband's steps. He waits until you disappear into the crowd before he lifts his phone to his ear and makes a call. “Hey, I need you to flag all of the cars that leave the parking lot, they’re just a couple, should be coming to you soon.”

- Jeon Jungkook had become the most powerful man in the underworld because of two reasons; by being able to take punches, and by knowing when to mind his own business.

- But For this, Jungkook thinks he can make an exception.

- (You won't remember meeting Jeon Jungkook, but Jungkook will always remember you).

~.~

Now

-It comes as no surprise that your little speech fades after a few days and the rest of the hybrids quick to return to treating Yoongi with a mix of disdain and fear. Though mostly- this seems to be caused by Minhyung's group and the other canine hybrids. Namjoon hears them whispering about ‘favoritism’ before they catch on that he’s listening in. And in the days following your impromptu departure from the farm, you find people quiet even further whenever Yoongi's brought up. Staring when Yoongi comes close, afraid to interact with him.

- Even Jimin is greeted mostly with silence from all but a few. The bunny hybrids don’t act so skittish anymore, and the cat hybrids could care less used to sticking to their own group. Taehyung seems to have encouraged the other bear hybrids to make an actual effort and they at least say hello now. It’s better than the derisive comments of the dog hybrids, or the snooty noses stuck high in the air of the dear hybrids and other exotic breeds.

- They know Jimin is close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and now he feels even more like an outsider that before (somehow it doesn't matter as much as before). The only ones who don’t act overtly different are the new hybrids; Hoseok and the small lion hybrid. but They were never around to learn how to hate Yoongi in the first place.

- it's a little cute- the way that Hoseok will always shout Yoongi's name in greeting (though you're unsure if that's just his personality now that he's started to grow into himself). Hoseok is unbothered by Yoongi's reaction; to shy away from anything that will draw more attention to himself. But Hoseok's smile is so bright and elastic that even he has a hard time ignoring the otter hybrid. You hope there will be a friendship there eventually, that yoongi will open up to more than just your group.

- The little lion kit is a new addition too, she's not the only young feline hybrid you have at the farm but she is the friendliest. She gets pretty close to the other cats that work in the kitchen almost instantly. Probably on account of her young age (she's barely 7) and the eldest cat hybrid seems to be particularly fond of the little one.

- She's curious and kind to Yoongi too- excitedly running up to him more than once to show him a little rock or some flower she found- and yoongi will marvel and nod, and if Jimin is near- he'll lean close and tell her how pretty it is.

- She doesn't seem at all deterred by Yoongi's lack of voice. one day she even sees Jimin, her ears perking up excitedly, tail swishing. "Hello Yoonies voice!" it's a little cute- even if it does make yoongi splutter a little. But she's not exactly wrong; Jimin does talk for yoongi more these days.

- She Always comes bounding up to you and giggling happily to be picked up. Her little legs stretching around your waist, small bottom sat atop your baby bump. Making you get the kind of look that makes Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sigh and look impossibly fond. They can only imagine what you’re going to be like once your little one is born. Your due date is barely 2 months away.

- In truth- you’re starting to get a little bit big. You say it one morning with Namjoon. After he asks you why you’re looking into the mirror with such a displeased expression. The sound of your terse voices alerts Yoongi and he comes to the door to your bedroom to witness your spat. Making a flippant hand movement at Namjoon to back off. Namjoon could smell your distress on you when you looked in the mirror, his voice tense but breaking. “Baby just tell me, why you think you’re not beautiful like that? let me understand. Cuz to me- you look more irresistible every day.”

- It’s not that you exactly wanted him to agree with you that you were nearing the size of a whale- but this doesn’t help at all either. His unending insistence- doesn’t he see? when he looks in the mirror doesn’t he see what you do? His instance that everything is alright doesn't help when you’re feeling this self-conscious.

- Yoongi helps you, fiddling with Namjoon’s closet for a second before he pulls out an extra-large white shirt of his and helps you into it- tying it loosely over your baby bump so that it flatters your waist a little more. The attention that Yoongi shows you clearly making you flustered. Then he drags you to the mirror, tugging your hair out of its bun, the tension going out of your shoulders.

- Yoongi doesn’t know it, but Namjoon does. Your late husband used to always be so particular about your hair, yanking on it harshly if it was left down. and An easy way to avoid him yanking on it was to leave it up. And sometimes you still pull it up convinced it’s safer even though he’s dead and gone. It’s scary how simple it is- but the second your hair comes down your whole body relaxes.

- All the while Namjoon watches from your bed. And you take in yourself, the baby hairs free-floating against your forehead; Yoongi curls one gently around his finger and then lets it go. You take in the way that the fabric hangs now, making you look a little more proportional, Yoongi gives you a satisfied smile behind your back and you have to sigh and admit it. “Okay- okay- I’ll give you this- I’m not a whale”

- “And even if you where you’d be a pretty whale.” Yoongi has the good sense to hurl a pillow in Namjoon’s direction, but it makes you laugh all the same- the heaviness in your chest abated a little. Your sleeve brushing Yoongi’s as you head downstairs, Namjoon trailing behind.

- The beach trip was a nice distraction from chores but the real work comes crashing down on them the next few days. Your little group feels closer than ever, you rarely part from any of them for long and their intention, their little acts of care never fail to make you feel flustered and taken care of.

- Jimin always holds out a hand for you to take when you’re stepping over uneven ground, Yoongi makes a startled noise whenever you so much as get close to a hose that might trip you, always gesturing for you to pause and take a break whenever you’re working in the garden. Namjoon too, always running back and forth from whatever project he’s working on to check on you and make sure you have water or food.

- At night, Namjoon takes your stretch mark cream from you, rubbing down your baby bump and your hips, the little lines of lighter skin on your waist get little kisses from him.

- Even if you want just a snack, Namjoon and Yoongi will bring you a full meal- convinced that you need to be eating more than you are. At dinner Yoongi fills up your plate- piling it high with more food then you could fit in your already crowded tummy. And he always eyes you suspiciously when you can’t finish the full plate. Namjoon too will level you with a look- asking if you really are full.

- Since your pregnancy has progressed, you’ve become a little moodier, and a little hornier whenever way the wind blows. And Namjoon doesn’t help that much at all- and by that you mean, he makes it worse. When he comes out of the field with his shirt off and tucked into his shorts all of his thickness, his muscles that make you ravenous.

- During lunch one day he drags you away to a forgotten tool shed, though it would be easier just to go up the hill to your bedroom- you feel like teenagers sneaking around like this.

- Namjoon presses into you as he hits the latch on the door, muffling your giggles with kisses as you hide from the hybrids outside, voices that you can dimly hear, unable to pick out any one particular yet- but you know they're there.

- You and Namjoon might bicker like an old married couple. But you also act like teenagers gooey and giggly and so so so in love. “Do you think that they can hear you like this? Or smell you, my love?” Namjoon is always quick to tell you how delectable you smell when you’re horny. His more sensitive nose-picking it up the second you feel a slickening between your thighs.

- You’re shaky when you respond. “I don’t know, maybe?” Namjoon always has this passionate intense air about him. He’s slightly possessive- but you’d never fault him for that not when it’s all about protecting and providing for you. Not when he always puts your pleasure first (you feel like you may have turned into a slight pillow princess with him).

- Namjoon heaves you up onto the edge of a bench and then gets on his knees. Gently lifting your leg over his shoulder. He’s always mindful of how much you can move in your swollen state. He checks to make sure he’s not bending your hips in an uncomfortable way.

- You put your hands back on the dusty bench to stabilize yourself as you lie back, Namjoon wastes no time in pressing his face close to your cunt and inhaling, His nose prodding at the thin fabric of your underwear. One of his ears caught on the hem of your dress. His fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs- so full and healthy it makes him hard in his pants.

- He’s slow with the appreciation of your thighs and hips. Hands gripping and moving on to touch and feel like you have all the time in the world. But you hear voices outside the tool shed you’ve commandeered and you could just slip out and go back up to your house- but somehow you like this better. The thought of being discovered stirring an unsure heat in your stomach.

- You can hear Taehyung's voice, and then- like a shock through your core- you hear Jimin’s. Namjoon can feel your jolt. And you realize- his sensitive ears must have known who it was before your own human ones did. He chuckles- teasing his fingers along the hem of your underwear, almost daring to slip inside.

- You almost whine when you think about what you’re being denied- the harsh pull of his fingers that you’re so addicted too, how thick his fingers and knuckles feel (almost as nice as his cock) when they pull out and push in.

- Yoongi and Namjoon have always had the most lovely hands, it’s strange that when Namjoon touches you- you think about Yoongi’s hands. The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. "you're thinking about them aren't you," The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. Because yeah; Yoongi and Jimin are apart of Namjoon’s pack too, and bonding and group sex are kind of the same thing to hybrids. You’d found that out the hard way when you’d found a group of cat hybrids all tangled together in the grass the other day.

- Namjoon is always so gentle with you because of your condition, but you find your hips jerking with want. His fingers still when he feels the way your wetness has spilled out the sides. His thumb pressed over your clit teasingly. “smell so good when you're like this So wet my love, are you thinking about them finding you like this?”

- “Y-yes” you confess, and Namjoon growls, nipping at you through the fabric, the feel of his teeth brushing you, over the sensitive skin. The fabric cushioning the feeling, makes you almost gush, and you know you’ll be shakily legged by the time he lets you get down. And that he won’t let you get away from him until he’s taken care of you in this way, sated you in every sense of the word.

- But he can also tell how shy you are, the heat under your skin at the thought of being discovered. always unsure how much of your dirty talk is a real want and not just something you like in theory. Namjoon knows the idea of sharing you with the others might seem like the most natural and hottest thing; to love you alongside them. but to you- a human, hybrid sex and hybrid bedroom dynamics aren't as given.

- So he leans close, sliding your underwear down your legs slowly, letting you feel the heat of his palms on your skin. You're getting worked up a little too quickly, your heaving breaths needy. God damn pregnancy hormones you'd say if you could think beyond the plush feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit. “Gotta clean you up for them, if they smelled you like this- then they’d know wouldn’t they?”

- You prove Namjoons initial assumption wrong. “What if I-” you whisper- gasping quietly as Namjoon drags the fabric to the side and glides a delicate lick over your folds. “What if I want them to know?” the pleasure thrumming through your body as Namjoon licks up your slit. Namjoon stills, ears perked, eyes flashing in the half-light. The snarl against your cunt loud and echoic.

- The voices outside fall silent and Namjoon doesn't stop his ravenous licking no matter if you have to bite your lip to keep your noises in. One of your hands scrambling to pull at his hair and find something to grip onto and anchor yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. Jimin is the first one to puncture the silence, “What was that?”

- Then comes Seokjin's voice “all of you- move along- whoever it is they probably don’t want the three of you listening in like a bunch of horn dogs” which is basically a confirmation that they were listening in, and that Yoongi was there too.

- When you finally exit the toolshed with weak legs, sure you’re going to have to at least got change your underwear. You find a bleary-eyed Seokjin a few dozen feet away, obviously upwind of the toolshed. he levels Namjoon with a tired expression. “You both have dirt on your knees” Namjoon has the good sense to look shy at that. You hastily brush off the spots on his, and he on yours.

- If Jimin and Yoongi smell anything on you later- they don’t say anything and the idea that they might make you feel hot all over whenever they lean in too close. You think you see a blush on Yoongi’s face more than once, and maybe see him adjust his pants out of the corner of your eye, but Jimin seems blissfully unaware.

- You have a check-up at the doctor’s office in the coming days. And although only Namjoon is allowed in the room with you (they have a two-person maximum because the ultrasound room is tiny), Yoongi and Jimin also accompany you. Namjoon comes bounding out after, waving the picture and smiling so so wide, both Yoongi and jimin leaning in close to get a better look- they’re so enamored with the little photo. And when you get home- Namjoon shows anyone that asks how the check-up went, eventually hanging it on one of the two fridges in the kitchen.

- Jimin is the only one who seems to notice the jealous looks- because you went out for ice-cream after and come home with them still partially melting (you’d had another craving- french-fries dunked in ice cream of all things). One of the other hybrids having heard Jimin talk to Tae about the beach trip too. They come to you at the end of the day, 2 bunnies, a cat, a fox and one of the bears- a mish moshed group of hybrids; petitioning you to start the beach trips for everyone.

- You can only fit so many people into the back of your truck so you pick a day and start a raffle for spots. Jimin throws his name into the hat just in case but to his surprise, Yoongi doesn’t. No matter how much Jimin bugs him too; He won’t agree to accompany Jimin to the beach again. Shaking his head with a roll of his eyes back tipped back against the grass, his sunhat crumpled. Offering up a few sweet tomatoes to soothe Jimin’s sour nerves.

- The peace lasts for a couple of days before they’re right back to treating Yoongi like shit and for some reason, it pisses Jimin off more. No matter how many times he’s heard Namjoon asks Yoongi to please tell him when anything happens. The snake hybrid seems unable to fight back.

- Jimin asks one of the hybrids why she won’t look at Yoongi (after the snake has already gone up the hill to retrieve another dish for dinner) and beyond a startled look, she just says “none of us can smell him” she throws a stack of paper towels down onto the table angrily. The deer hybrid across from them stumbling with their silver wear But she doesn’t need to re-iterate herself. Jimin understands- it’s hard to trust someone who can lie to your face- and in the world of hybrids where emotions can be decreed from a simple sniff, Jimin can’t say he doesn’t see where they’re coming from.

- Doesn’t excuse their behavior, however. After all- Jimin can smell Yoongi’s emotions through his scent and he didn't realize that was something strange until now. To Jimin, Yoongi’s scent is soft and sweet- something gummy and soft like a marshmallow. But that’s probably because he spends so much time with the hybrid. The others only spend so much time around him and are unused to his scent. And the fact that he never talks and never tries to socialize doesn’t help.

- Jimin can’t imagine not wanting to smell more of it- not leaning in whenever the other hybrid passes. Jimin wants to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck and rub his cheek all over it. The same way that Namjoon does to him in the morning if he shows up before he’s changed from his pajamas. And he knows he smells soft like sleep- an alluring smell to the older alpha when he comes down the stairs, ears straight up eyes wide as he takes in all of Jimin's vulnerability.

- and it might have to do with what Taehyung had said- that alphas eat up that sort of thing.

- Namjoon smells good too, his scent all soft mornings and sleepy walks, the older hybrid large and so pliant in his sleepiness, eyes swollen and face puffy as he hides in Jimin’s shoulder. Sending his pine scent all over so that it sticks to jimin no matter where he is. So that jimin will smell like Namjoon all day.

- One of the cat hybrids at the sink rolls her eyes. But when you come down the stairs smelling much the same. You touch his arm so softly in passing, like you can’t believe you’re allowed. And Jimin’s senses are a dizzying blur of cream, peaches, pine, and marshmallow.

- when he goes back to the barns, hazy at being scented by Namjoon so thoroughly. Taehyung levels him with a funny look and a chuckle. "you're more devious than anyone gives you credit for" thought Taehyung means it good-naturedly- it's good to have a friend to ask how to go about flirting with. the other hybrids gathered on the couch in front of the tv; some cartoon playing- pretend like they're not listening in.

- "How do you know so much when you don't have a pack of your own Tae?" he asks over breakfast, the two of them clutching breakfast burritos on their way to check Tae's bees. Tae doesn't meet Jimin's eyes "you're just lucky- most hybrids dont find a pack so easily Jimin" his words aren’t jealous- only a little patronizing. And Jimin accepts it because he knows he has a lot to learn.

- Taehyung is right- out of all of the hybrids at the farm, there are only a few who have paired up or even made stronger groups or multi-person packs. the bunnies and the cats don't form set generally- though there are a few pairs and more than a few throuples.

- Jimin as caught Yeonjun making out with a tabby more than once- has learned to avoid certain sections of the woods all together because everyone knows that's where the bunny hybrids like to go in the afternoons. The canine hybrids are the only ones who have packs, though there are more than half a dozen loners like jimin and namjoon.

- It's hard for Jimin to cohabitate with them even though there are other larger predators and more than a few prey hybrids living in Jimin's barn. he hadn’t really realized until taehyung pointed it out that each different pack occupied one corner of the punk room. More than once- the room in the barns has felt hostile if only for the packs that have claimed either corner of the bunkroom. it's usual to wake up and find more than one of the pups cuddling with another in one single bed.

- Having reciprocated love in his pack shouldn't feel like an impossibility to Jimin. But still, when Yoongi steps close- an inch too far away, his fingertips barely brushing- Jimin just- yearns. It’s a soft sort of yearning, the kind that has jimin jumping up whenever Yoongi needs something. Has him settling a think knit blanket over Yoongi’s nobly knees during movie nights, and sticking his own feet underneath the edge of the blanket. Feet Pressed to the clothed line of his calf. Maybe nothing will ever come of it, But Jimin yearns with everything he’s got regardless.

- In the late hours of the night, when Jimin lies awake thinking about the three of you. An instinct welling inside of him that says he should walk up the hill and fall asleep on your couch just to be closer to you three (the pack instinct- Taehyung calls it, looking a little bit sad himself when jimin asks him, the other hybrid moving away before jimin can ask exactly what that means) Jimin wonders if his feelings will ever be reciprocated.

- But love is a strange thing, it’s not just about saying it with kisses or touches- though Jimin wants them too. There is love in the small things, in building something together so that’s what Jimin tries to do. Every day- he takes to gardening with a new vigor. Shouting in joy when you harvest some of the tomatoes- filling up a whole gallon bucket with the amount that have ripened over the last week. Your peppers and cucumbers are beginning to produce more too.

- Jimin and Yoongi run to Namjoon just to give him a handful. The alpha gives each of them a sweet nuzzle in thanks, even if Yoongi chirps and moves back after a moment. A flush high on his cheek. Namjoon looking up at Yoongi from where he’s stopped- cheek on the elder's shoulder. The snake relaxing after a moment.

- You spend the rest of the day showing Jimin and Yoongi how to prepare the tomatoes to make a sauce, roasting them on low heat. Cutting garlic so so carefully, and whenever Jimin looks across the prep table- Yoongi’s gaze darts away. halfway through- yoongi stoops down, sticking his socked feet into jimin’s lap, and it feels so nice, to have their weight there.

- You go over to Yoongi at one point, and he tips his head back to look up at you. The back of his head is at the right height to lye up against your baby bump. And Jimin watches, as you slowly, so slowly, brush the hair out of his eyes and away from his forehead. Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and he tips his face into your hand. Letting out a low happy grumble when you take his action as positive reinforcement, and drag your nails over his scalp. In Jimin’s lap, Yoongi’s toes curl.

- It feels strange- and Jimin can’t quite put his finger on it- but it almost feels like Yoongi is letting you all touch him more than ever. Suddenly okay with touches- as long as it’s in a more private setting. Jimin can’t say he’s unhappy about it. Maybe one-day yoongi will even let Jimin scent mark him.

- Jimin smiles at Yoongi’s happy little snake grumbles. And keeps chopping his garlic. Is happy to receive the same kind of scratch from you a few minutes later. Though he might abandon his chopping in favor of rubbing his face all over your stomach when the instinct strikes him. Jimin unintentionally lets out a growl when you start to move away. Slapping a hand over his mouth and apologizing, no matter how you and Yoongi laugh.

- Still, despite the happiness, you have in your kitchen, in your house, whenever you’re around each other. The rest of the world is not so kind.

- An adoption day comes at arguably the worst and best time. There is still a fair amount of friction between your group and the rest of the hybrids. And a few outsiders at the farm only make it worse. Though Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon aren’t the only hybrids who wear red stickers to indicate that they are not available for adoption.

- Hoseok surprisingly- grabs a yellow sticker. And the three of your hybrids watch- as Seokjin hovers around him- a red sticker on his own lapel- wary of all and anyone who interacts with the otter hybrid. His glares putting off all but the most attentive patrons. That's where it starts.

- Jimin is unfortunately caught in the middle when seokjin confronts hoseok. off to help the three of them bring down 3 trays of cut watermelon for the hybrids and the patrons. The dinner tables have been set out on the side of the field piled high with Hors d'oeuvre. You’re there with Namjoon greeting the humans. Games are set out too- for the hybrids and humans to play.

- it’s no secret that they’ve gotten close, and jimin had assumed they’d talked about it- but apparently not. Seokjin is so angry he’s nearly crying. “why- hoseok- why do you want to leave the farm?” Hoseok’s little otter ears are tight against his scalp. “I just- I didn’t want to assume?”

- “Oh- so you’d rather just- throw away everything that we’re trying- all of this- you don’t you dont want to stay do you-” Jimin has never seen seokjin looking so lost, and he knows enough to guess that Seokjin’s anger is at least in part to due to some trauma (later- Jimin will find out that Seokjin’s mother left him with his last owner- an abusive man- to save herself).

- Jimin knows enough to get in between them, telling them to calm down and spend a minute away from each other. Jimin ends up with Hoseok- “it’s hard Jimin- how do you, how do you have so much sureness with Y/n? with Namjoon and yoongi too? How do you look at them and trust that you should stay?” Hoseok's eyes remain on Jimin's red tag.

- Jimin sighs, thinking it through, “do you look at Seokjin and know he cares about you? like- do you know it in your bones?” Hoseok bites his lower lip, “yes- but-”

- “Then you should stay Hoseok,” Jimin walks Hoseok up to the main house where the stickers sit on the prep table. Changing out his yellow one for a red one. And when they head off back down the hill, Seokjin is waiting on the path with Yoongi, apologizing and dragging Hoseok away to the barns where Seokjin’s own private room is. Hoseok goes willingly, smiling up at the older hybrid. His narrow shoulders cuddled under one of Seokjin's wide ones.

- jimin has to admit, an otter and an alpaca are a weird combination for a hybrid pack (But no stranger than a pair of puppies and a snake). His thoughts drift towards Taehyung- and Jimin hopes that his friend won't end up alone. it must not be easy- to see all of you pair off like this.

- in some ways, that adoption day is full of just as much bullshit as they usually are. there are always people who dont understand the effort it takes to take care of a hybrid- they aren't just like any ordinary pet. it's easy to spot the ones that view them as pets- and less like people. You get a few rich people looking to adopt a companion as always.

- A substantial group of families also look to adopt similarly aged companions for their single children. And you agree to more than one possible test weekend. You’re always so particular about letting the children go, so wary and so careful in the way you let them interact with the families.

- Though they don’t have parents here- there are more than a few good role models and parental figures. More than one child chooses a red tag for themselves. And they always know have a right to it- no matter how young they are. You make it clear to the group of them; If they don’t want to be adopted they don’t have to be.

- You even get one couple- the woman withdrawn and sad, and a slightly jealous look at your own pregnant stomach says more than any words could. It’s pretty common for women who can’t have children to adopt hybrid children. and though some of it doesn't sit right with you, You aren’t one to judge.

- Jimin spends most of the adoption day helping you balance the need for food and for games. running back and forth to the house to help. Though there is a little work that needs to be done here and there just to keep the farm running as usual. grey storm clouds roll in halfway through the day, puncturing the blue sky- foretelling scattered showers and storms. and jimin hopes it will cut the adoption day short so that you can return to your routines.

- Jimin is just helping Yoongi putting away a broken badminton net When it happens- Jimin isn’t certain why it does. Only that he hears the words outside the shed after Yoongi's just excited to grab the broken rackets (Namjoon isn't the only clumsy hybrid you have at the farm).

- “oh sorry- ew gross,” a shrill female voice says, and then he rounds the corner and sees yoongi picking himself up from the dirt- a rich lady and her peacock hybrid looking down at him like he’s the dirt beneath his shoes. The peacock hybrid has Yoongi’s sun hat in his hands and there is another hybrid- a wolf hybrid from the farm with a green sticker on his shirt, who growls down at yoongi.

- His shoulders shake too the way they do when he’s been touched and he doesn’t want to be. Jimin has seen you brush your fingers over the back of Yoongi’s hand, has even felt the coolness of the snake hybrid through the fabric when the elder grabbed his sleeve. Has touched him even more intimately as of late. But he knows that Yoongi can’t tolerate being touched by people he doesn’t trust- doesn’t want to touch him. basically, anyone, that's, not you, Namjoon, or Jimin himself.

- “Hey- what the fuck!” Jimin spits, grabbing the sunhat out of the hybrid's hand with a growl, his ears flat against his head. If Jimin had elongated canines like Namjoon they would be barred in anger as he shoves the larger hybrid back. Yoongi shrinks impossibly smaller behind him.

- Jimin is hot and itchy from the heat and the humidity, and he really just wants to shower and cool off. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with entitled people today. And more importantly- no one touches Yoongi on Jimin’s watch.

- The hybrid looks surprised to be talked to in that way, he’s nearly a head taller than Jimin let alone the slightly taller feathers that poke out of the top of his head that give him the appearance of several more inches- but Jimin’s intimidating enough with his set expression to send the hybrid huffing away. Feathers fluffed.

- The peacock's iridescent feathers stand up on end as he grabs the hand of his human owner, her diamond tennis bracelet glittering in the sunlight. “This was getting boring anyway. Sorry” he tosses over his shoulder at the canine hybrid, who looks so disappointed his ears pinned back against his head. They only give him that- barely a look, before they’re heading off down the hill in the direction of the line of cars parked on the grass.

- The wolf hybrid deflates audibly- watching the woman and the other hybrid disappear down the hill. promises of home and family disappearing in a moment, but Jimin has to think- if they’d be discouraged so easily- were they really worth it? The wolf hybrid doesn't seem to think so- Turning his angry tear-filled eyes on Jimin.

- But Jimin can see the hate in his eyes and knows not to mistake the tears for only sadness. “You both ruin everything” he growls out- before they too run back towards the barns- no doubt to tell the others how Yoongi had sabotaged their adoption. Even though that was far from the truth. in all honestly- yoongi just bumped into the lady- or more probably- the lady bumped into him when he was on his way out of the shed.

- Jimin holds out his sunhat to Yoongi, who takes it from Jimin carefully, Jimin doesn’t linger on the fact that his hand still shakes. Jimin’s hand lingers somewhere close enough where Yoongi could touch it could reach out if he wants too. If he wants to get that kind of comfort from Jimin's touch- then Jimin will willingly give it.

- a faint flush coats the elder's cheeks. Oh no- he must be overheating then, Jimin feels a rush of concern. He knows what you would do, hover your hand close enough to Yoongi’s forehead, usher him upstairs for a break in the air conditioning, and a glass of icy lemonade.

- All they can hear is the shouts of laughter at the games the others play in the fields, “I understand why you don’t want to stay in the barns, why you don’t want to socialize with some of them, they’re so unkind to you it makes me crazy.” Jimin shakes his head, sour anger filling him like a rotten peach.

- Yoongi, looks more than pacified, looking up at Jimin with an indecipherable look. Most of the time, Jimin can get a good guess on how he’s feeling but not now- not that indecipherable heaviness he finds there. or the strangely heavy marshmallow scent that’s fluffed around them. Jimin lets go of Yoongi’s hat.

- After a moment Yoongi nods, and Jimin takes it as a thank you. They’re done for the day and dinner won’t be for another few hours or so. Jimin is ready to avoid some of the strangers and hopefully take advantage of the empty showers. The sky is grey with incumbent storm clouds when Jimin makes his way to the shower buildings which he finds blissfully empty; except for the bear hybrid Jackson that tosses a greeting at Jimin before exiting.

- Jimin doesn’t even bother to flick the lights on, instead of settling for the calm light that comes through the skylights, grey and hazy. the storm clouds have started to roll in properly. He hums as he disrobes, goes to grab his favorite strawberry body wash, and picks the last shower at the end, disrobing in relative comfort, glad for a moment of privacy.

- The blissfully Coldwater does wonders for his overheating muscles, relaxing his body deliciously from a day spent walking up and down the hill. he digests the chaos of the day- seokjin and hoseok fighting, yoongi getting shoved. you'd looked frazzled the last time he'd seen you, smile strained as you made small talk with most of the humans, Namjoon always close incase you needed someone to lean on.

- Jimin had been able to tell that your feet were sore just by looking at you. Namjoon will probably make you sit down before long, maybe he already has. You’ll probably cut off the adoption day because of the rain. Taking down names and information before you send them on their way. You rarely let a hybrid leave the farm after one adoption day, needing to have more private meetings and house calls to willingly part with one of them. You just want to make sure you dont release them back into another abusive household.

- He hums as he washes, lingering in the water and taking a longer shower than he usually would. He hums, testing the way his vocal cords wrap around the acoustics of the empty high ceilinged room.

Then he hears the scuffling of someone in the bathroom too and cuts off. A little abashed at being caught. The rustling getting closer and its a moment before he realizes that the rustling is coming from his own section of the bath. he smells him the second before he pulls the shower curtain gets pulled back.

- “Yoongi!” Jimin shouts, furiously grabbing at something to cover his nakedness. Jimin furiously tries to cover his crotch, grabbing one of the large bargain bottles of shampoo and hold it there even as cold water runs over his face. Getting into his wide eyes. “Yoongi what the fuck! You’re naked!”

- Jimin is glad that the rumors about snake hybrids having double the appendages as a normal hybrid are false but he can’t stop his blush or his wandering eyes as he sees the snake hybrid in full. Or the hot lick of arousal that shocks him through his core- especially when he recognizes the heaviness to Yoongi's scent as being arousal.

- there is a single moment, jimin can smell yoongi- can see the want in his eyes, can feel his own scent fluff out to meet his, yoongi sags under the weight of Jimin's scent as the surprise dissipates. "do you-" Jimin's face must be brighter than a tomato. He reaches out a tentative hand, "do you want to-"

- Before Jimin can do much more than that Yoongi’s lips are on his, tentative but firm and passionate, the fire leaking into him from Yoongi as jimin stumbles in surprise. The kiss tastes like thank you and Ive wanted to do this for longer than i care to admit and everything yoongi can't say, can't let slip past his lips. jimin drops the shampoo bottle which narrowly misses his foot as Yoongi’s hands come up to encircle his jaw so softly like Yoongi is holding the most important thing in his world. Jimin is so shocked that for a moment- he doesn’t kiss back and Yoongi retracts- not before Jimin chases his lips and the snake hybrid returns to him.

- It’s the first time Yoongi’s ever touched Jimin so bare, and the snake’s hands on the back of his neck feel cold and shivery but good. As Jimin’s back hit’s the wall and their fronts press together for a moment, just brushing. Then colliding with more force as they both realize how good it feels to be so close to someone you trust. It’s dizzying- intoxicating, and Jimin knows his mouth is moving sloppily even if he wants to kiss Yoongi with just as much intent.

- The snake hybrid bites- actually bites- down on Jimin’s tongue. And a strangled whine comes to live and die in his throat. A snarl in his ears from Yoongi's mouth as the snake hybrid keeps his biting, moves to Jimin's throat- bites hard Enough that Jimin knows he'll leave a bruise. "leave more- yoongi please mark me" jimin feels hot with the thought of it- the thought of all the other hybrids being able to smell yoongi on his scent gland.

- Jimin doesn’t know where to put his hands, he knows enough to know that Yoongi doesn’t like to be touched and unsure if it extends to right now. but it seems okay if he’s doing the touching. His hands sliding down Jimin's back to his waist. He’s a good kisser, the best that Jimin’s ever kissed (not that there have been many) and he tips his head forward to put as much scalding force as he can into it when yoongi leaves his neck in favor of his mouth, trying to match Yoongi’s intensity even if he can’t match his skill.

- Yoongi takes a step forward, and Jimin’s cock brushes his hipbone, and he can’t stop the way his hips jump at the contact, brushing into Yoongi further. Jimin’s blood boils with arousal. Yoongi is equally as hard compared to Jimin. And Jimin doesn't know if its water or precum that he feels on his skin. Can't look down to check.

- By the time Yoongi leans back and finishes running his fingers through Jimin’s hair and over his shoulders. Jimin’s so wound up he feels like he’s about the pass out. The cool water cascading over his back doing nothing to settle him. Yoongi moves his hips- testing the waters, as he grinds, works jimin’s hips into an unsteady rhythm. and jimin moans.

- Yoongi pulls back, looking at jimin, their noses brushing, like he can’t bear to have jimin farther away from him than this, want heavy in his eyes, and Jimin tastes the words on Yoongi’s lips as good as if he’d said them. “Yoongi” jimin breathes. Palms pressed carefully to the shower wall so that he won’t reach out and yank Yoongi closer. But he’s Weak against the wake of this of all this feeling.

- “fuck- kiss me again- can we- ” Jimin feels strung out, his body heavy with something like heat- maybe Jimin is actually having a heat and it’s not just in his imagination (he wouldn't really know what it felt like- never having had one before because of his malnutrition). But This kind of kissing is certainly enough to trigger one.

- Yoongi opens his mouth for a second, almost like he’s about to speak- or to try to, Jimin’s never been sure if he can- if it’s muteness or just Yoongi being selective. And then in the next moment, Yoongi’s gone, almost tripping on his way out of the showers with how fast he’s leaving jimin. A whine dies in his throat and jimin starts after him, But then Yoongi turns back. Gesturing with a hand for jimin to stay put. Yoongi looks angry, and it takes a moment for Jimin to realize that the anger wasn’t directed at jimin- only at Himself.

- Jimin stays in the shower, water thundering down around him as the sky overhead thunders too. Jimin listens to the faint sound of Yoongi dressing and then leaving the showers. Jimin lets him go. So sure that he has absolutely no idea what just happen- or even if he didn’t imagine the whole thing.

- jimin’s hand on himself doesn't feel nearly good as Yoongi’s did.

- Yoongi’s hands shake all the way back up the hill, and he hopes his wet hair won’t be too suspicious especially when a mixed group of hybrids crosses his path. Returning to the barns as most of the adoption day festivities have ended.

- Yoongi’s careful to keep his eyes averted. And like usual- the conversation comes to a halt when Yoongi passes them by. It no longer bugs him the way it might have once. They have a good reason not to want to associate with him. Yoongi’s body shakes with the weight of the things he’s done and the things he’s going to do.

- you gather with 3 families on your porch as you take down their names and contact information. You send yoongi a concerned look as he quickly heads inside the house. Pausing only for a moment before he decides to go to Namjoon first. Later- later he’ll ask you too.

- Stupid- he’s been so stupid recently. Touching you- indulging in these short sweet touches because he wants more so badly. Knows he can never have it doesn’t stop the wanting. If his owner ever found out what he’s done- if she ever found out what he’d almost done with jimin- she’d surely have Jimin’s hands for it.

- And as much as Yoongi wishes it were any other way- Jimin almost touching him does remind him of far worse times. Though he’d been the one to initiate it this time- the memories still linger.

- Times when foreign hands touched his skin as he’d thrashed and screamed trying to protest against the taunting words of his owner. “I’ve never been interested in snake dick but if you want him for tonight you can have him- just be careful- he bites” and he shakes with those memories. Though its been many years. like most kinds of torture- eventually, his owner had grown bored with using yoongi's body as a bargaining chip. Yoongi wonders if he’s ever going to be able to be touched that way without feeling the revulsion at his own body.

- Jimin had come close, but he'd known- known that yoongi didn't want him to touch him. Had seemed more than willing to be touched himself. the revulsion hadn't hit him until the end.

- The places he’s been touched without his consent feel black and decaying- or like ink, every time someone touches him- Yoongi’s surprised that ink doesn’t come away on your hands soft and delicate. But it didn’t change the fact that Yoongi wanted it- and wants it still.

- he wants to see you soft and sated the way you look sometimes in the morning when he can smell Namjoon on you- wants to cause it- maybe, someday in the future if you'll let him. He knows you’d be gentle with him. Wouldn’t put your hands anywhere he didn’t want. Would check in with him- going as slowly or as quickly as he wanted too. Namjoon would be able to be gentle too- Yoongi’s sure of it.

- He wants it, even though he knows that want only put you all in danger. He’s an incredibly selfish person. He hopes he never gets to have that intimacy with you, for your sake.

- yoongi should only let himself dream of something good before he goes- sinks back into that life. But the temptation for more is too strong sometimes, his want filling him up like sticky sweet syrup that pollutes every moment.

- Namjoon is on the second floor of your house and Yoongi takes the stairs two at a time. Folding laundry in what will one day be the nursery for your child. He’s taken the ultrasound up here now- hung it up so he can look at it. and Yoongi is reminded of A few days ago when he gushed about the development of your child to Yoongi in the kitchen comparing them to the size of a fruit. “a cute little cantaloupe- the cutest little cantaloupe”

- You and Namjoon have made the decision not to find out the gender, but the walls of the nursery are still pained blue, puffy clouds above and little flowers below, dandelions and daisies, a stalwart sunflower that curls over the arch of the door half-finished. Yoongi knows you work on the mural it whenever you can. But Namjoon gets a little paranoid about the fumes- you compromise and keep the windows open along with the door to your balcony to allow as much air circulation as possible.

- The crib, a fluffy white thing is already piled into the corner. And Yoongi remembers the first few weeks here when you and Namjoon had overzealously ordered it. He’d come downstairs after dinner one night and found both of you puzzling over the directions. And he’d shooed Namjoon away as he’d helped you put it together. The three of you ending up giggly and punch drunk tired by the time it was fully put together. And then had to carry it all the way up the stairs.

-A mobile of little felted flowers that Seokjin made you as a thank you present a hangs above the empty Crib- colorful and cute. And Namjoon has set the laundry on the unused changing table in neat stacks. All of the other furniture is piled into the center of the room so that you can paint the walls. He turns when he hears Yoongi, his tail swishing.

- “Hey Yoon- what you get caught in a rainstorm or something?” the rain splatters against the windows with a soft patter and Yoongi drips onto the floor. He never bothered to dry off after the unintentional shower with jimin. Yoongi makes a shrug that means ‘something like that’ and if the younger hybrid hovers on the way that Yoongi’s lips look a little kiss bitten and swollen he doesn’t say a thing. Namjoon knows better than anyone- what they talk about and what they don’t.

- He hands over the slip of paper; “jimin should move into the main house, you and I could clean out one of the storage rooms and move the stuff into the attic.”

- Yoongi watches Namjoon’s eyes rove over the words a few times. The hybrid purses his lips, “I’ve talked to Y/n about this- and she agrees- but I don’t know if he wants too? He seems pretty comfortable in the barns, he likes Taehyung and they’re friends. and we kind of want to leave it up to him if we can.”

- Yoongi snatches the paperback from him, annoyance flickering in his chest as he rolls his eye. Didn’t Namjoon see that nothing would change if they didn’t push him a little? Jimin is the type to take that kind of abuse again and again if it means not making a fuss. And Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of time before something happens again. He turns it over onto the other side and using the wall as a place to write.

- “He’s already being treated differently because of me” 'me' being double underlined- so that Namjoon really understands what he’s trying to say. Yoongi just wants to make sure Jimin is safe before he goes. Before he needs to leave and before it gets too dangerous and too near a time when his owner will physically retrieve him. Not that Namjoon knows that Yoongi’s presence has an expiration date. Namjoon searches Yoongi’s face for a source to his desperation and finds none.

- Yoongi has never felt worse for keeping secrets. Maybe in another world- Yoongi would have confessed and asked Namjoon, with all of his connections to the police, for help. Yoongi knows enough to put the whole crime system out of whack and yet. Years of negative reinforcement and beatings have taught him to keep his mouth shut and that isn’t going to change now; not when Yoongi’s life isn’t the only one at risk and he knows you’ll all live if he plays by the rules. He doesn't care about his own safety anymore.

- The second he sees Yoongi’s distraught expression Namjoon steps closer Taking off his flannel and tugging it around his shoulders. Namjoon might not make moves to scent mark Yoongi but dressing him in his clothes is as good as he gets. Namjoon’s comforting alpha scent fluffs around him.

- Yoongi wonders if jimin feels the pull the same way he does. Dynamics are more mobile in snake hybrids and downright non-existent in humans. but they’re more set in canines. Namjoon puts his hand on Yoongi’s clothed arm and Yoongi shuffles close after a second. His nose centimeters from Namjoon’s neck taking in deep breathes to try and steady himself. He didn’t realize he was shaking.

- “It will be alright Yoongi, I promise. He’s gonna be safe.” Namjoon adds quieter. And below them both- in the first floor of the house, he can hear your voice, echoing louder and laughing at some sort of joke, Namjoon’s tail starts wagging at the suggestion of you. “I want them to feel safe too.”

- Yoongi wants to write “he should take my room- I won’t be staying in it soon anyway.” but Yoongi needs to make sure- before he leaves. Jimin has to be included in your little pack. He doesn’t want to think- about what the three of you will go through when he eventually has to leave. The days are counting down to the end of the summer.

- He’s fucking selfish, so selfish, to kiss Jimin like that when he knows he won't be able to stay in the hybrids life. He’s selfish every time he begs affection off you, every day he keeps Namjoon Company when he’s cleaning up the other barns. Yoongi writing out words in the dust when Namjoon asks him questions. Eyes only searching when Namjoon turns his back. Looking for any sort of hidden compartment. Completing his task even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Betraying you like this.

- Jimin spends the rest of the day wondering if the kiss with Yoongi was just a dream. But later at dinner, Yoongi won’t meet his eyes, and jimin knows he didn’t imagine the kiss. Guilt sticks to Yoongi, more distracting than honey stuck between your fingertips.

- Both of them go to sleep still thinking about the kiss. Jimin wondering if it will happen again and Yoongi thinking that he’d like it too. His fingers running over his lower and upper lips, mind awash with the memory of jimin’s mouth on his. And night falls heavy like a weighted blanket on the farm. The sky a big sheet with holes poked through for stars. A heavenly breeze tempting away the summer heat.

- All of the hybrids safe and snoring in their beds. Some even paired- if they’ve got it. Two furry bodies packed close on a single bed. Some even dream of homes they mind one day live in or of the people that one day they’ll get to love. The idea of being kept and treasured lulling them into a drowsy haze of anticipation and security.

- That night, Namjoon knocks on Yoongi’s door. the hybrid leaning up against the doorframe as he watches the snake get ready for bed. “you know... you could sleep in our room if you want, we have an air conditioner in there too.” yoongi has a notepad ready, he knows that Namjoon likes to open all the windows and even the door to your balcony to let the fresh air in so that it feels like you're sleeping outside. He steels himself to think of someone other than himself before he writes- “I’m okay- thanks though” Yoongi writes out.

- Namjoon lifts one of Yoongi’s blankets to his neck before he leaves, thoroughly scents marking it before he leaves it with Yoongi. And Yoongi sleeps easy that night with his nose pressed to the blanket. Safe and secure in his room. Nothing bad happens to yoongi that night even though he cuddles close to the blanket, and when he wakes in the morning. his heart beats a steady thumping rhythm- his whole body humming with anticipation.

- It’s different to feel excited about being in love, excited for a day spent close to the people he cares about. And he knows he won't take a single day for granted.

- The crickets and cicadas chirping in the field. And in a low tone on the tree outside, a morning dove gentle and unassuming. The sun rising over the hills. Tastes of idyllic and smells of Eden. Like lavender and honey.

- A hand outstretched, scrambling in the dirt before it goes still, fingers just a few inches from safety. Blood mixing in with the sand. The morning is not perfect for everyone.

- But even you would say the morning was peaceful, if not for the dead body dumped at the end of your driveway.

Kofi

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

Text

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

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mypimpademia · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! If you aren't too busy or anything, I'd like to request Izuku, Kristina, and Mirio x reader where the reader has ADHD and is super incredibly behind on homework and is really stressed about getting everything done (online school and executive dysfunction is a terrible combination, I'm so behind on everything but I just can't get myself to start working...)

Midoriya x adhd!reader, Kirishima x adhd!reader, Mirio x adhd!reader

TW: Maybe some swearing

Note: online school fucking sucks, couldn't imagine having adhd on top of it. But I believe that you'll get through it, so good luck anon :)))

Also, im guessing and hoping you meant kirishima😭

For plot purposes, this takes place during fall break

Taglist: @myhoodacademia @bnhainthewoo @iiminibattlehero @ecao @v-vpluto @cheerfulpeople1234 @strawberry-ice @mixxfi @renzai @liltodo @wolfkid22 @mythiccheroacademia @myfandemons @melanimed @sheepydumpling

MIDORIYA.

You call Midoriya over to talk to him about how stressed you are with your work

He can't really relate to what your saying, nor can he fully understood since he doesn't have adhd, but he promises to help you to the best of his abilities

"I'm sorry youre so stressed baby... I dont know how much help I can be but I'll try!"

He starts by helping you email Mr. Aizawa and the rest of your teachers about your struggle with adhd, and asks that they excuse you for late work, and maybe even extend the date on any projects you have

"I'm glad its fall break... now we'll have more than enough time to work on everything!"

Izuku sets up a schedule for the entire week on everything you need to work on

It has work times labeled with what exactly you should be working on at that time (projects, regular assignments, any late tests, etc.), break times, and the days are split up by subject

"Alright so, we'll work on all your core classes first from Saturday to Tuesday since those a priority... then we can work on your elective classes Wednesday through Saturday. Oh, that should give you Sunday off to work on any assignments we missed."

It sounds like a lot to you at first, but when he actually gives you the schedule, he organized it perfectly so you could go about your daily routine while still getting caught up on school

Izuku clears your entire room from any distractions first, unplugs the TV and turns it around, puts away any toys you might have, takes your phone and turns it off, and uses his phone to set all the alarms

Izuku sits right next to you while you do all your work, and helps you when you need it, occasionally tapping you when you start to zone out

During your breaks, he lets you get water, have your phone for awhile, eat if youre hungry, and Izuku cuddles you and tells you youre doing a great job

You manage to finish everything by the end of the break, and get the highest possible grade you can in every class

Izuku treats you by taking you to your favorite restaurant :)

KIRISHIMA.

You call him crying about how stressed you are with school, and hes immediately determined to help you because you're his s/o and he loves you, plus its the manly thing to do

Eijiro rushed to your dorm, all his notes (especially the ones bakugo helped him on) and textbooks in hand

He puts your TV remote far out of reach, and puts the batteries to it in a separate place, takes your phone and other electronics and shuts them off, and uses his phone as a timer

"Alright, let's start with (insert subject youre most behind on)."

You both work on as many assignments as you can with 30 minutes on the clock before you get a 5 minute break

While you type everything down, Eijiro uses his phone to get the answers so you can tag team your work to make it easier, and he gets you back on track when ever you get distracted

Once the w 30 minutes is up, he gives you your phone and sets his five minute timer

You do this routine about 2 more times... but Eijiro doesn't exactly have the best attention span either

So he ends up forgetting to set a timer for your breaks, and next thing you know its been an hour since you did your work

Eijiro calls up Bakugo to come help since he can hardly even keep time

Bakugo yells at him over the phone, but comes in 5 mins later

He takes Eijiros job of getting the answers, while Eijiro is assigned time keeper as well as having the job of keeping you on track

You work for a total of 4 hours, and then you're done for the day

Bakugo recommends repeating the process for another week, so you can work on one period a day

You and Eiji thank him for helping, and Eijiro tells bakugo he doesn't have to help anymore

He promises that he'll help you without getting Bakugo

"I promise to help you without calling anyone else over! It was just today, you're my s/o, I'm supposed to help you. Plus, it's the manly thing to do!"

You manage to finish it all the Tuesday after break

It took a little longer, and you finished late than you wanted, but you were relieved to be finish

You, Eiji, and the rest of Bakusquad went to a bakery to celebrate:)

MIRIO.

You didn't even have to tell him

He already knew you were struggling, so he popped over to your dorm one day with textbooks and notes

"Alright Sunshine, let's start on this work, shall we?"

He lets you set everything up while he puts away all distractions

Unplugs your TV and turns it around, takes your phone and shuts it off, puts away any other electronic device or toy of some sort, or anything else that could distract you

"Alright, lets start with the class you have the least work in!"

Eases you into your work

You start off by doing as much work as you can with 30 minutes on the clock before you get a 5 minute break

When the timer goes off, you get your phone, but its right back to work after 5 minutes

But he adds 30 minutes, and has you work for an hour and then gives you a 10 minute break

Taps you when he thinks you're zoning out even a little, and gives you check ins

"Everything alright, Pumpkin?"

After the hour is up and you get you break then he adds 15 minutes and gives you a 12 minute break, and so on...

He stops when you've been working for about 3 hours for a quick lunch break

Mirio makes sure you eat a good meal to help you focus a little more

You end up working a full 8 hours, but it honestly felt shorter with Mirio helping you

You manage to finish everything in just 5 days

Mirio takes you to a little bakery by campus as a treat

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whatgaviiformes · 3 years ago

Text

The Personal Trash

Okay, I needed the catharsis of writing this out, but I am throwing it under a read more because I honestly don’t expect anyone to read this. Family shit below

I feel like before I start I have to say first I love my husband very much and am continually excited by the life we are and have been building together, and the only goddamn constant in these circumstances is that he is my best friend always.

The second part of this before I jump in is that his mother, my mother-in-law lives with us, and there are parts of this story I can’t tell because it’s her story and I am not that kind of person. One of the things I love about him is his loyalty to family. I am the same way. Living with elders does not make me bat an eyelid - they’ve taken care of us, it feels comforting that we can take care of them.

But I need to share the context of our home - it’s a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom townhouse with the three of us, three dogs, with almost every space shared. One kitchen, one living room. It’s a small place. My husband purchased the house in September 2014, and it was around when we started dating. One of our first outings was his housewarming. It was, and still is, a starter home.

So since he’s had the home, I’ve been around - starting with a weekends, back and forth, and finally a moved in in 2017, married in 2019, and now we are here. Four years later.

We’ve talked upsizing, getting an in law place if we can. But the housing market is a sellers market at the moment, and things have been good. For four years.

For four years, the family unit has been the three of us. We’ve all contributed in different ways, and in that time, MIL has retired, husband has switched jobs a few times, and mine has been constant. And I *adore* my job. But it keeps me incredibly busy, overwhelmed often. Work-life balance is a bit of a joke for sure. Like anywhere there are days that I’ve gotten off work and cried. Or, checked out mentally that I couldn’t engage in other things. It’s can be intense, but its rewarding. And there was a period through the past few years where I was the source of income keeping our heads above water. And we were - we were fine. But it put a lot of stress on me.

In the meantime there have been some health issues - which I will gloss over. Not my story. But MIL has had few different things, on top of us worrying about COVID. We’ve taken her to some different appointments and such.

We had one such scare two weekends ago, and it kind was a catalyst to a bunch of other stuff that I’ve been dealing with behind the scenes lately. So on Sunday, husband and I went to the grocery store (she was supposed to go on a trip for four days or so) so we were going to use the opportunity to cook a few things together, and we needed to replenish. We were about to grab lunch, and called to see if she wanted anything, and she told him then she wanted to be taken to the hospital. She told us a few days earlier she was having some problems, but only mentioned to my husband that she was worried this might happen. But to me this forewarning was not mentioned, and I was only told because he advised her that she needed to be upfront of what was going on. (For the record, she still was vague).

This ^ will be a theme.

So we skipped lunch, came back home, I unloaded the food and started putting stuff away because he and I agreed that’s what we do and I told him to keep me updated, and she left without saying anything to me or vice versa. Husband comes home because COVID means you can’t stay with anyone. Also no beds, so it took awhile (F*CKING GET VACCINATED PEOPLE SO PEOPLE WHO DO EVERYTHING RIGHT AREN’T LAID UP FOR YOUR STUPIDITY -alsoyesiknowthereareotherreasonspeopleareinthehospitalforcovidjustgivemethisimfrustrated)

11:30 PM that night we picked her back up. It was late, I was tired. A few days later she tells us that she had a lot of time to think while at the hospital, and tells us she is going to move out.

First - you know what we did while she was in the hospital? We freaking worried. Okay - so all of that is facts, details, and I’ve gotten you caught up to the this-happened-then-this-happened. The rest of this is feelings so buckle the fuck up

Husband - immediately lashes out because he doesn’t like the reasons (still doesn’t) and I find out that there was a conversation the day before between the two of them I wasn’t a part of - and he felt because she was not being honest with me, he was forced to have to lie to me, his wife, and didn’t like that feeling.

Me - feeling confused, a little like this is out of left field, and only not completely surprised because this has happened before with husband telling me, and then it never happening, we misunderstanding. and more times than not it never made it from her mouth to my ears. Also it was never for *this* reason. See how this escalates more below.

Husband- “I had to learn to live with strangers, and you just can’t stand not being in control” Me - so wait I am a stranger now?

Husband - do you even like my wife...

and so on. So apparently everything I thought I knew about our home changed in the course of this conversation. What I was able to get out of the cacophony of chaos is that I am insensitive because I don’t interact with her the way she expects me to? And she feels like she’s intruding all the time, despite us assuring her she’s not, inviting her to game nights, and in general sharing in the things that you do as a family like vacations and dinners. And the more we argued, the more little things came out and little clues. She’s mentioned leaving before, almost on a 6 month cycle, and the last time was this one -

So like... when we got Della, and three days in she was like “If they don’t get along I’m going to take Dino and my own place” and so like... hold up, you can’t just throw away a comment like that. They’ve barely gotten a chance to know each other. (they are fine by the way. Della is a puppy and gets in his face a bit, but she’s still learning. They play, sleep together fine, and we are constantly taking care of the fur kids).

And from what I get from the comments to leave - because shit there’s still so many pieces to this I feel like I am missing -she will rationalize other reasons like the dog example above.

So when this happens it sends my husband in a spiral, he tells me because she won’t say anything, and the one time we did try to have a conversation about it, she shut down and made it sounds like he misunderstood and made him out to be the asshole. Then in the same breath tell him its not his job to fix everything as a stab at me, but like continue to talk only to him when it involves everyone.

I don’t know if that makes sense. A lot happens without me involved.

So then - those clues - the hints that all of this is really about me:

health - i stopped asking because she stopped telling me things, so how am I supposed to know what she can and can’t do. but im at fault for like... not asking. but she’s not telling.

home - apparently my understanding and my husbands understanding about the stuff she does around the house - some cleaning, groceries (we pay for) and loading dishwasher, cooking sometimes,. We thought she liked doing them to help around the house, and she’s never told us differently. EDIT- no, she’s told us she likes to help. Cue - you can stop right there, I am an adult and I never asked you to clean up after me.

I feel like whatever feelings she has for me started a long time ago, and she continued to let them harbor instead of talking to me about it, until it got to the point where it couldn’t really be solved.

I mean, I am not lacking the self-awareness to recognize that, yeah, I can be messy, and yeah, I can be single minded. There are days where my husband is talking me and I just space answering him because I can’t or or I just mentally lose it in processing.

I am seeing this mirror reflected back at me of like - I have all these expectations for you, and you are a problem and, but like.... it kind of goes both ways? And I feel like you’ve made these circumstances yourself? And if you want to leave that’s fine, but its not from our doing?

And so in the end *I* feel like I am the one under scrutiny for everything I do or say and how I interact in my home. And it feels like selfishness, and self-victimizing behavior that I’ve seen time and time again, and I don’t really see a way out.

So husband just wants to keep the family together, he’s taking this to heart - its his mom, and there are feelings there about how they’ve provided for each other. He would feel differently if they got the house and she moved in with him under the notion that she was going to save, get her own place. But it wasn’t, and so he has this weight on his shoulders for it, for failing in some way.

And I - well. I didn’t really realize the family unit we had wasn’t working... at least to that extent and that it stemmed from me and I’m really hurt by it. Aside from the stuff above, I am really easy going - I try to give everyone space, and make everyone happy. I shut down if I am processing something. I’ve never intentionally tried to make her feel unwelcome. I’ve invited her to my family vacations, we’ve all equally enjoyed dinner’s out.

And though I’d be willing to try to do better, i am absolutely livid that this conversation waited until it was at its worst. So now I don’t really want to try to do better because I am mad and hurt, and don’t feel like my sacrifices or contributions are being acknowledged, nor do I think she will do the same thing to be self-reflective and recognize her own part of all this. And above all things, I truly hate to be misunderstood. And I will completely shut down under that kind of self-victimizing behavior and thoughtlessness to other people. I don’t want to lose myself over this, in my own home.

So neither path is really an easy or right solution. She moves out, husband loses a bit of respect in her and the relationship they have.. She stays, recognizing your own part in lack of communication is a long term thing, and I have to feel this awkward limbo for that whole process.. if it even gets there.

I feel like I am walking on eggshells constantly.

I should never have to question if a “Hello” will be taken the right way and that’s how i fucking feel.

#personal trash #cursing

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black-streak · 5 years ago

Text

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest.

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look.

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me."

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks.

"Is.. Is this okay?"

Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?) Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

#timari #timinette #dc x mlb #maribat

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acelikesturtles · 4 years ago

Text

“For The Love of Cake”

Prompt: Bakery AU - Mikey x Gender-Neutral Y/N

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3,885

A/N: Okay so despite what the screenshot looks like, the original prompt came to be from a conversation on discord, but @wacheypena was the one that officially came up with the prompt, @dw-im-just-sad just sent it to me because I consistently have the memory of a goldfish, so credit for the idea totally goes to wachey. @dw-im-just-sad also wrote her own version of this prompt so go check it out on her blog and give her some love!

“Fuck.”

A blast of warm air from the oven hit your face and pushed the stray hairs out of your eyes. Despite how delicious the freshly baked poppy seed muffins smelled, there was no way in hell that these met the signature Paisley's standard. You tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear with your free hand as you set the tray down on the steel counter behind the oven. Two other perfectly top-notch batches of muffins from 45 minutes ago sat only a couple inches away, freed from the confines of the muffin tray and sitting pretty on the tabletop cooling rack. You popped one of the new muffins out of the tray and set it on the counter as a half-pout began tugging at the corners of your mouth. All the muffins here were caved in on the top and looked dense and chewy instead of moist and soft like they were supposed to.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You poked the muffin with a toothpick to check the center then sliced it open with a fork to check the inside. Little tendrils of steam escaped from the muffin’s tortured core; a squashed, condensed, pathetic looking center that seemed ashamed of its own existence sitting beside the high and mighty rises that all its cousins had managed to achieve. You figured that in a moment of absent-minded baking you must have put too much baking powder into the batter, thus creating the chewy texture and the catastrophic cave-in on the tops. With a firm frown and a short sigh through the nose in defeat, you picked up the muffin tray and headed towards the back door quietly.

Normally you wouldn’t be so secretive about bad muffins and tossing them in the bin outside, but the manager, Heather, had been cracking down on all the wasted ingredients that went into batches of bread and cupcakes and muffins and cookies that ultimately ended up ruined beyond relief by new-hires. Admittedly these muffins weren’t as bad of a mistake as per the other new-hires’ usual (like leaving whipping cream mixing until it turned into butter), but these sad excuses for poppy seed muffins were still a recognizable mistake that could easily be attributed to you rather than Rosetta, who always managed to forget at least one egg when she made cake batter.

You opened the door to the back alley behind Paisley’s and kicked the rubber doorstep underneath the gap to hold it in place. You balanced the tray in one hand and used the other to lift the lid off the unofficially named “Fuck-Up” can. With a few small taps against the rim of the bin, the muffins tumbled out of the tray and into the trash, only leaving behind the faintest lingering scent as you returned the lid. You wiped the sweat that had gathered on your brow with the back of your hand. Looking up, the sky had turned a shade of pinkened violet that felt reminiscent of the childhood summer sunsets you had enjoyed back home. You checked your watch. Five minutes until the end of your shift. You hauled yourself back inside and began cleaning up your work station with the torn and stained damp rag assigned to your work space.

Your mind felt full with thoughts, heavy even. Five months in New York and aside from securing a relatively nice apartment with only a mildly concerning roach problem and an “only kinda-severely-cramped” bathroom, you weren’t feeling as if you were making much progress like you had maybe anticipated when the opportunity to move had first arisen. You had moved, after all, in the hopes of starting your own café. It would be something small and quiet, a safe space in the heart of the city for people to come and bask in the welcoming atmosphere and enjoy the soft sounds of Lo-Fi playing above their warm cups of coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. You’d donate food to the homeless on Wednesday evenings after closing time, and on Sunday nights the café would host Bingo and Trivia competitions for charity like they did at some of the local bars. The thought of being able to make your dream come true here made you feel immensely grateful to be on the path your heart had been calling you to. Paisley’s was better than being stuck in your hometown selling discount jeans. Right now though, working these grueling hours made you feel even farther away from the finish line than you had thought it would when you started. Rather than a feeling of excited and determined immersion in a career area that would someday be a part of the larger puzzle you longed to complete, Paisley’s felt like a chore that truly nobody enjoyed aside from Heather’s domineering managerial attitude.

You tossed the dirty rag into the laundry bin on the other side of the kitchen and began making your way towards the time clock to punch out for the night. Your aching feet were relieved just knowing that rest was coming soon.

“You headed out for the night?” A coworker asked, bumping into your shoulder while you punched in your employee number.

“Yep,” You stifled a yawn. “Poppy seed muffins at my work station still need to be stored for the catering thing tomorrow, so have somebody do that when you close.”

“Sure thing, on my way to do that right now.” They responded.

You finished clocking out and lazily shuffled back through the kitchen towards the rear door again, now fully caught in a yawn. You opened the door and took two steps outside before waiting to hear the slam and the click of the lock behind you, finalizing the official end of your shift. Now that you were outside though, something felt off. You glanced down at the “Fuck-Up” bin. The lid was ajar instead of firmly placed like it had been when you had messed with it earlier. Perplexed, you picked up the lid and peered inside the can only to find it empty of the muffins you had tossed in there before. Bizarre, but not unheard of. Paisley’s didn’t donate any of their leftover food to homeless shelters and you had heard from your coworkers that the homeless often peruse through the large dumpster behind the bakery for scraps hoping that the trashed food wasn’t as bad as employees thought. You could hardly blame them for trying. One company’s terrible batch of cookies is another man’s saving grace. At least someone was making use of your mistake.

You yawned again, shuffling down the concrete steps towards your neon green motorbike. You knelt down to unlock the chain holding it to the company bike rack, absently humming some commercial jingle that had been stuck in your head for the last day or two. Once the lock was completely freed you stuffed it into your bag, kicked the kickstand back up, and fished your keys out of your pocket to turn the ignition. Just as the motor began to sputter to life, you heard shuffling feet and a faint and stifled cough echo in the alley around you. It was near impossible to not feel spooked or even just a little bothered at the thought that the person from earlier could still be lurking in the alley, even if you had no real proof that they were harmful. You had heard too many horror stories and seen too many documentaries to be foolish. Not taking any chances, you hopped onto your motorbike and immediately hit the gas, taking a sharp turn into the street and not daring to look behind you. You could have just been paranoid of course, squirrels and other animals liked to dig through their trash and make noise in the alley too, but when confronted with the silliness of the concept of hundreds of rats carrying the muffins away you found yourself instead hoping that the person that had fished through their trash had gotten what they needed (and that they wouldn’t still be there by morning).

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

The next morning as you came up the back steps to the kitchen you noticed a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the lid of the “Fuck-Up” bin that hadn’t been there the night before. At first you hesitated to read the note. There was an anxious pang in your gut that made you feel uneasy about it in a way that you couldn’t put you finger on. You reached your hand forward to open the door to the kitchen, but found your hand only hovering over the knob with no real intent of going in yet. You needed the closure that would likely come with reading the note, even if it was a little intimidating, the thought of someone interacting with you by way of your ruined poppy seed muffins. You plucked the sticky note from the rusty lid and held it up to your eyes, squinting to read the chicken scratch.

“Hey dude! These ones were not my favorites but still yummy! Get me some oatmeal cookies next time, the crispy ones! Those are fuckin’ delicious! -MC Mikey.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was this person seriously asking for more rejects? The only crispy oatmeal cookies that Paisley’s made that ended up in that bin were overcooked or half burnt, unless…did they think that this was a donation bin? Confused, you pushed your way through entrance and into the kitchen, claimed an empty work station, and headed over to the time clock to punch in your employee number. You were suddenly feeling a little bit more concerned for this individual than you did afraid of them. Maybe this was just someone ridiculously naïve. Maybe this was a kid that didn’t know any better and liked the smell that the trash behind Paisley’s had. Your sympathy had kicked in alongside a compulsive desire to bake those requested oatmeal cookies, and once you’d returned to your station you began flipping through the company cookbook for the recipe so you could sneak a mini-batch in-between actual requests.

After about 20 minutes, you pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven and pushed the next sheet in. The smell was heavenly, an intoxicating mix of warm vanilla and cinnamon that made you salivate at first whiff. You picked up a cookie to check for the soft texture that was so characteristic for the recipe and sighed in relief when they pulled apart just like desserts did in those viral Instagram videos, softly and delicately. Hopefully these cookies would become this stranger’s new favorite. Whoever this was could have the experience of a real oatmeal cookie without the element of burnt edges interfering with the flavor, and the thought of being able to provide that joy was enough to put a little more pep in your step than was there before.

Several hours, a lunch break, and a couple run-ins with your bitch-of-a-manager later, you found yourself in front of the time clock again with a small Ziploc baggie of oatmeal cookies secured in your bag. They wouldn’t be as fresh as they were when they first came out of the oven unfortunately, but they’d still taste better than burnt and crispy cookies--that you were at least certain of. Once you’d finished punching in your employee number you made your way towards the back door as quickly as you could with aching arches and a stiff lower back. You stepped out onto the concrete stairs and waited for the latch behind you to click before making your way down the steps with one hand firmly grasped on the chipped railing beside you while the other dug around in your half-zipped bag for your keys and the Ziploc filled with cookies.

Your sneakers hit the alley and you let out a loud yawn while rolling your neck from shoulder to shoulder. You turned towards the “Fuck-Up” bin and gently placed the baggie on top of the lid. Should you have left a note? Would this person even care if there was a note as long as the cargo inside was sealed away from the elements? You let a puff of air out through your nose and let the worry roll of your shoulders as you turned back towards where you had parked your bike, keys jangling in hand. Just as you were about to reach your bike, you heard the shuffling sound again. Without hesitation you turned on your heel and looked back towards the garbage bins. Nothing had changed, nobody was there, but the noise of muffled footsteps said otherwise. This time you didn’t feel like running as much as you did like investigating the source of the noise to ease your curiosity to rest. You kept one hand firmly gripped on your pepper spray, and slowly stepped forwards, stopping at about the halfway point between you and the trash.

“Anybody there?” You called out. Your voice sounded particularly sick and crackly from the long work day. There weren’t any response and the sounds in the alley went dead quiet to underscore the sound of your own breathing instead. “If you’re the one who came by yesterday digging through our trash-” You started, wincing at your own condescending tone. You sounded so harsh, especially considering the fact that this could easily be a child based on what the handwriting had seemed like. “Sorry, I…I left you some oatmeal cookies. They’re on the lid.” You spoke softer, gesturing towards the “Fuck-Up” bin vaguely. The silence persisted. Now you were beginning to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck were practically standing up and you were beginning to think that you had either gone crazy or that maybe you were dealing with some kind of back-alley ghost.

Do ghosts even eat? Can ghosts even eat?

Without warning, a large hand partially cloaked by shadows broke free from the dumpster and began swiping in the general direction of where you had left the Ziploc bag. It would almost be comparable to a scene from a horror movie if the hand and the arm didn’t seem so clueless and desperate to get to the baggie. You fought back a smile and took a couple steps closer. You still had a grip on your concealed pepper spray just in case, but the thought of the stranger assaulting you was fading from the forefront of your mind. It wasn’t until you got close enough to see that this person’s hand was noticeably malformed—only two large fingers and a thumb—that fear was pushed onto the main burner once again. Clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal, the head and shoulders the appendage was attached to slammed up against the top of the dumpster and pushed the lid up against the wall behind him. That’s when he made almost immediate eye contact with you. Crystal blue eyes clashed against orange fabric and scaly green skin in a way that shocked your system to your core. This wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t a human, and it wasn’t, as far as you could gather, anywhere in between. A large shell was fused to his skin in a way that further broke your perception of reality as you tried to rationalize what you were seeing without thinking about costumes or special effects makeup or even aliens. You stood in shock for a moment, unblinking, watching as he strained to reach the baggie in front of him. He poked his tongue out and grunted as he stretched over the side of the dumpster, just barely missing the Ziploc with each swing of his arm.

“Dude, you could at least help!” He groaned, collapsing his upper body over the side of the dumpster in defeat.

You blinked and suddenly you were forced back into reality…or at least, whatever reality this was.

You took several more steps forward and snatched the Ziploc up in your hands, gently handing it to the…creature that was currently in the company dumpster. You had so many questions you needed to ask, too many questions, and without even opening your mouth the turtle began answering at least some of them one-by-one while shoving oatmeal cookies down his throat.

“I see you’re kiiiinda freaked out, and that’s okay! I get it, Mikey’s just so overwhelming to the ladies,” He said with a smug grin. “Turtle, mutant, ninja, sex god, what isn’t there to love angelcakes?” Your carefully baked batch of oatmeal cookies were disappearing in seconds, miniscule in comparison to the size and capacity of his stomach. “Oh, also?” He spoke through a mouthful of crumbs, spewing half-chewed chunks of oats and sugar all over the concrete beneath them. “These could use more cinnamon.”

“I-“ You hesitated for a moment. Your mind was filled to the brim with unfinished thoughts and rabbit trail theories about how Mikey himself was even possible (that is, if you weren’t dreaming) but they all came to a screeching halt when his comment about the cinnamon broke through your occupied mind. “Wait, really? I thought there was plenty, let me try that.” You huffed, snatching a cookie from one of his oversized, mutant hands. Within the first bite you were able to tell that he was right. The cinnamon flavor was more subtle than you had intended; a mere hint of warmth rather than the overwhelming comfort that you had been aiming for. “Oh. Yeah, I-I guess you’re right…Mikey.”

“Yeah, and those cupcakes the other day were-“

“Too much baking powder, I know,” You laughed and shook your head. “Those must’ve tasted gnarly, sorry,” You stopped mid-breath. “Wait. Cupcakes? Those were muffins.”

“Oooohh! So that’s why they didn’t come with frosting,” Mikey laughed. “Well that’s disappointing, I thought I was getting cupcakes. No wonder.” As the turtle crawled out from the dumpster with his empty Ziploc in hand, you became dwarfed beside him. He was tall, but not as menacing as you may have originally assumed. A half smile gradually worked its way onto your face as you looked up at him, trying to avoid grimacing at the smell of liquid garbage dripping all over his body.

“Next time I...I could make you cupcakes if you’d like.” You responded.

Mikey’s eyes looked alive with excitement as he nodded in complete agreement, musing aloud all his favorite flavors and fillings and frostings to you with a childlike delight. First there was snickerdoodle with extra cinnamon, then there was lemon meringue with more meringue than there was lemon. Red velvet with a whipped cream filling, double chocolate fudge with a gooey peanut butter center, tangy orange creamsicle with a tangerine wedge on top. You weren’t taking notes, but you figured that your personal investment in listening to a mutant turtle talk about his own takes on classic (and invented) flavors was enough to hold onto what he said in your memory, even if in the morning it may all seem like a hazy, drug-induced fever dream. You actually found yourself so intrigued with some of his flavor combinations and substitutions that you barely noticed that the grip you had been holding on the pepper spray had been entirely released, instead allowing that hand the freedom to gesture in a more relaxed manner as you articulated.

It wasn’t until the sound of a distant police siren echoing several streets away that the conversation stopped rather abruptly. The sound had grabbed the turtle’s attention in a way that stopped him in the middle of a sentence and replaced his excited expression with one of worry and concern. His eyes fell back towards you. You were searching his expression for a reason behind his troubled gaze just as much as you were looking for a clear answer behind what it was that made him who he was.

“Do you have a Sharpie?” He asked urgently. He looked behind him and over both of your shoulders nervously, as if he was waiting for someone to pounce, and that alone was enough to make you feel on edge again.

“Why?” Bewildered, you began digging in your bag again, searching for a permanent marker. You couldn’t find one but after clarifying that something similar might work, you managed to fish a red ink pen from the depths of your disorganized mess of a bag. Mikey snatched the pen from your hands, pulled the cap off with his teeth and spit it out onto the concrete, then stretched your forearm out in front of him. He scribbled a bunch of numbers rather messily onto your skin. He had accidentally smudged the undried ink a time or two and had to correct it, but when he was finished the string of numbers came out looking exactly like a standard, New-York area phone number. If this was a dream it sure was a detailed dream, you had to at least give it credit for that.

“My digits,” Mikey beamed while making the oh-so-stereotypical ‘call me’ gesture with his hand. “Call me, angelcakes. Unless you don’t want to, then like, don’t call me.” He shrugged. His confident aura practically dripped off of him as he began backing away into the shadows, shell nearly flush against the wall behind him. His hands rested on his holstered nunchakus as the police sirens faded away into the distance.

“Wait,” You faltered. Seeing him leave just as quickly as he had arrived made the flood of jumbled and confused thoughts come rushing back to you all at once. He couldn’t leave now, not when you were just beginning to get a grip on having him be a part of the same reality you were in. “Where are you going? What’s going on? What about the cupcakes?”

“Orange dreamsicle,” Mikey called back with a song in his voice. “Extra orange!” He said with a wink, while gesturing toward the cloth that covered his eyes.

Mikey had vanished into thin air, and just like that, you found yourself immersed in relative silence again. You pinched your forearm but didn’t wake up. You pulled on a singular lock of hair really hard, but didn’t wake up. Whatever you had just witnessed was still your reality, as evidenced by the smudgy red ink on your skin. You blinked once, then twice, then wiped the sweat off of your keys and your pepper spray and began shuffling towards your motorbike again. You turned your keys in the ignition, but when the engine started you didn’t feel the relief that you normally did when you were getting ready to head home from a grueling shift at work. If anything, your energy levels had peaked alongside your need to satiate your newfound curiosity aching in your bones. You pushed the kickstand up, removed the lock, pulled your phone out of your back pocket, and took your seat. You glanced down at your forearm again. The messy red ink was becoming clearer the more you stared at it. Perhaps it was just natural human tendencies at work, or maybe even fate, but the words just seemed to naturally tumble onto your keyboard once you’d copied the smudgy numbers into your contact list.

“Hey, Mikey right? I forgot to tell you my name. It’s Y/N.”

#authoring by ace #acelikesturtles #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #prompt

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mojavehearts · 5 years ago

Text

Fallout 4 Companions react to Strong having a crush on Sole

(REQUESTED!!) (im cackling like a maniac already)

(I know I used this before but...This IS Sole and Strong)

some are them realising it and some are helping him come to the realisation (some of the reacts even work together as one!)

Cait:

Cait watched as Strong stomped back and forth in front of Soles house in Sanctuary, at 4 am, on a Sunday. ‘’Oi buddy! can ya quit yer stompin?’’ she whispers out angrily, putting out her cigarette onto the side of one of the small shacks sole built Strong grumbles under his breath which makes Cait come striding up ‘’what is your problem?!’’ she was trying her best to whisper at least ‘’Strong doesn’t know!’’ he roars back she covers her ears and sighs ‘’Listen big guy, people are tryin to sleep and they cant with you stompin around’’ Strong grumbles again and points at soles door ‘’Strong cant be without master’’ ‘’what you like a lost puppy or somethin’? yer supposed to be a big mean ol’ supermutant’’ Cait scoffs, now leaning against soles house ‘’NO Strong does not want to be, without master near him, makes Strong MAD!’’ Cait’s eyes widen and she backs away slowly ‘’good lord, you better talk to MacCready about that...’’

Curie:

‘’Ah monsieur Strong!’‘ Curie waves strong over in a chirpy tune ‘‘How have our experiments gone so far? any pain? some memories? violent tendencies more than usual?’‘ Curie had gotten some data from some ‘hospital’ of sorts from New Vegas and was testing the medication in does on Strong so far nothing was different of course Strong was already more ‘Put Together’ compared to many supermutants and it had been a very small dose, ‘‘No strong want stop, making head fuzzy! weak!’‘ Curie nods and checks her chart ‘‘When does this usually happen or is it all the time?’‘ Strong stomps his feet slightly ‘‘If Strong is near master it becomes fuzzy! want to stop! need to be strong and protect Master’‘ Curie stops writing down in her notes and freezes ‘‘Oh Mon dieu’‘

Codsworth:

Codsworth is what he calls ‘Smart for an old bot’ he knew from the get go, hes still full of old world ideals so he isn't to keen on it, considering supermutants are known as violent brutes as well, but he warmed up to Strong (well as much as one possibly could if they weren’t sole) and it became quite entertaining for him to watch over a cup of tea and a nice book (he makes the tea for show, sadly he cant drink it) as strong ‘somehow’ gets red when with Sole, it really makes Codsworth rethink many things

Danse:

Danse...Isn’t exactly a fan of supermutants in general, that's just the way he’s wired (haha get it...Ill go)

Strong would always try to size Danse up, whenever he would talk to Sole Strong would be there, either watching intensely with a violent glare or just interrupting whatever he could, so he went up to him and asked what his problem was, guessing it was because he used to be brotherhood and also because...Danse obviously wasn't a fan of him. Strong just stares him down and points a thick green finger to Danse’s chest poking it into him slightly ‘’Sole needs real man, not metal man’’ and walked off leaving Danse to be (the gif above)

Dogmeat:

You know that thing dogs do when they cover their eyes with their paws and or ears as well?...Yeah just that

Deacon:

One word nine letters Terrified

Deacon thought it was kinda cute at first when he would watch strong follow Sole around, in that scary sort of way...in that way where little girls sing ring around the rosy or your child stands beside your bed in the middle of the night and says nothing, but then he noticed things...different things, like how he would rarely let anyone else around Sole, and that one time where they went to the third rail and that person tried to hit on sole and he chucked a tantrum and set the third rail on fire and- OH MY GOD

Piper:

Piper was making her usual rounds around Diamond City, trying to question whoever she could about her new piece ‘’Mirelurks and their MireQuirks’’ when suddenly she saw strong browsing the general supplies store she was confused why he was here alone, things may have changed since Sole came into play but he might still get given a hard time, he scratches his chin and Piper moves closer to greet him ‘’Master friend, Strong need gift for Master, Master gave Strong milk of human kindness’’ Piper thought this was very normal in fact and did help him pick out something, but then he turned to her and said ‘’How do humans show ‘E fec tion’ ‘’ and she froze ‘’Oh wow buddy i’m not the one for that um...Maybe Nicky can help he was married once well- when he was- when he wasn't- wait was he him- yes of course- um - but its- well-’’ Strong had enough of her blubbering and scoffs already walking off to see valentine, Soles gift in hand. Piper breathes out and then in deeply but then starts laughing softly, it was kind of cute really, but she didn’t think Supermutants could feel ..Love?, Piper had already found a new, and better article idea. SCORE

Preston:

Preston sighs softly, wiping the sweat away from under his hat, taking it off to fan himself with it he noticed the ground rumbling slightly beneath him ‘’Strong that you?’’ Preston turns to the direction of the rumbles and places his hat back on, sure enough he was met with big green mean fighting machine, strong. ‘’You know master, what does master like, besides blood and fighting’’ Preston purses his lips in slight confusion an audible ‘huh’ leaving his throat ‘’Strong want say sorry for Third Rail on fire, Mack Ree Dee says I should show sorry with actions’’ Preston scratches the side of his face and stares at the ground for a minute ‘’why don't you go to diamond city? check out the stuff there I’m sure they would like anything from the surplus store’’ Strong grunts in agreement and stomps away again behind Strong stood MacCready with a tilted head and raised eyebrows Preston looks at him completely confused until MacCready takes his two fingers and draws a heart, Preston stands there dumbfounded his gun falling from his hands

Valentine:

It was a slow day for nick, seemed not many people needed help nowadays guess he had Sole to thank for this time off, but he was getting a bit restless with all this sitting around waiting for something, he felt kind of bad for wishing for things to happen but he was sick of the small ‘Lost my cat’ or ‘forgot where my nuka-cola truck was’ and sick of the fact all of those were deacon in different wigs, so when his door opened he was pretty excited he turns his head up quickly and is met with strong slowly trying to squeeze into the door, he struggled for a few minutes before sitting down, and then breaking the chair, but he still sat in place on top of the broken chair on the floor, nick chuckles and rubs at his temples why was the world against him ‘’Strong, great to see you...What do you need?’’ strong was quick to speak ‘’Paper send me but before that pwes ton and then before that mac ree dee and then before him irish lady, and now im here help strong now metal man!’’ nick rubs the lower part of his face and sighs ‘’so...Paper? sent you specifically?’’ strong nods with a grumble ‘’Alright..tell me what you need’’ it was better than seeing deacon in a long blonde wig talking in a high pitch voice about his cheating husband for 5 hours ‘’Strong been told to come to you because you were married and I need to know E fec tion’’ Nicks eyes widen slightly, the pupils whirrling vibrantly this had to be one of deacons tricks ‘’Affection? for whom’’ Strong slams a big green fist on the desk, breaking it, nick pretends the desk is still there for sanity sake and rests his arms in midair ‘’For Master! who else would be good enough for E fec tion’’ Nick could die at that moment ‘’Alright Deacon you can come out now’’ Strong roars angrily ‘’Bald man at settlement!’’ oh god so this was...Serious, nick takes a looooonnngggggg drag of a cigarette and sighs ‘’Alright...ill help ya’’

X6-88:

(petition for me to just use Raymond Holt gifs for X6 considering they are basically,,The same person like the personalities are spot on omg)

All of the companions where sharing their opinions/outlooks on Strongs growing affections on sole/if Sole would return them and all that, Hancock threw in a few sexual jokes (making everyone groan in different tones) while everyone else already knew X6 did not, and he found it obscene

‘‘x6, what do you think about it?’‘ Curie asks with her eyes full of curiosity, as always.

‘‘Absolutely...Not’‘

‘‘What do you mean ‘Absolutely not?’’ Piper asks with a joking scoff

‘‘it is ridiculous at best, there is no way’‘ the other companions sigh at him ‘‘hey it could be a real blossoming love my guy, they will have gorgeous half green babies’‘ Deacon says with a mouthful of carrot X6 looks at him in distaste and turns in his hair ‘‘X6! don't ignore us, stop being a grumpy pants you aren't in the institute anymore! love is real!’‘ Mac says excitedly X6 slowly turns his chair back and stares at him through his glasses

‘‘It might be, but not between sole and the supermutant, now before you complain, i am once again turning in my chair’‘

he will come around

MacCready:

‘’MACK REE DEE!’’Strong stomped up to Mac at INCREDIBLE speed ‘’whoa there strong! you could flatten me buddy’’ he chuckled but he was literally terrified for his life seeing strong run like that ‘’Loud lady says you can help me’’ strong says bluntly ‘’help with what?’’ now mac was interested ‘’I told her I didn’t want to be without Master and she tells me to see you little man’’ MacCready rubs his neck in confusion why would she send strong to him over nothing it was only natural that he would be if he considers Sole his Master ‘’After fire in Third Rail Master was upset at Strong, STRONG CANT STAND IT’’ Mac nodded slightly ‘’uh well...Sometimes a good ‘’hey I’m sorry’’ and some affection, maybe a hug and a gift can work?’’ strong seemed to like that idea ‘’I GO NOW’’ he roars ‘’whoa buddy wait! do you want me to tell Sole you’re leavin? I’m on my way to have dinner with her now’’ dinner!? Strong’s alarms went off in his head and he picks Mac up by his jacket snarling slightly ‘’Dinner?!’’ Maccready stares at strong, confused and terrified ‘’Um yeah...The thing people do to eat? she wanted Duncan and Shaun to meet formally? you were invited remember?’’ ‘’oh’’ strong slowly and gently (for a supermutant) and slightly dusts Mac off and turned away MacCready laughed softly at how strange he could be and then stopped dead in his tracks ‘’Wait what the fu- ‘’

Hancock:

Once the institute was defeated Hancock and Sole both came up with the idea to have a party for everyone at the third rail, all of good neighbour was decorated from top to bottom with funny decor, synth scraps, all of that (much to x6′s dislike, he still went) everything was fine and dandy, everyone was partying it up, Magnolia switched It up for the night and was singing some upbeat party tunes, and then some random stumbled up to Sole, Hancock watched for a distance he knew Sole could handle themselves so he just watched silently, it was chill and all until Strong war cried, threw the person into some lit candles which then got caught on a decoration and set it on fire and then in shock some people bumped into each other and started fighting AND THEN as everything was going to shit Sole had to jump up to Strong to avoid the fire as it pooled around them, the way strong held onto Sole, told him enough whether supermutants could feel that kinda thing or not wasn't his business. Putting out his cigarette he sighs and decides to help in the chaos as Deacon walked into the third rail ‘’ I BROUGHT PIZZ- aaaa???!’’

BONUS

Sole:

Sole was sitting at dinner with Mac, Duncan and Shaun and turned towards the empty spot they had reserved for Strong with a sigh. They just continue to smile and eat, until the door gets fireman kicked down (I cannot stop with that) and strong appears Sole stands up and strong walks towards them, a pretty sweet looking belt in hand he throws it at sole and they catch it ‘’is this for me strong? well thanks! I-’’ then Strong picks them up and awkwardly hugs them to his body sole struggles a little bit against him ‘’is this about the third rail? its alright strong I told you that I was just busy’’ Strong ‘’I’m trying to do human E fec tion’’ sole goes silent and then smiles softly ‘’thanks strong that’s really nice of you to do that for me, but you don’t have to I like you the way you are’’ strong slowly puts sole down and sole pats him on the arm

Mac and Duncan just looked at each other awkwardly and kept eating the whole time

Bonus Bonus

Maxson:

(I hope this was okay!! thank you so much for requesting I had a BLAST doing it!! xxx)

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sea-salted-wolverine · 4 years ago

Text

Okay so last week was a shitkicker and was literally so bad I spent the better part of the week trying to delude myself into thinking it was a good day. Like, we're talking, "the sun is shining and I'm here to see it so today is a good day" and "I'm having a bad day- fuck me I am not haveing a bad day- I'm having a good day- I'm not having a bad day". Denial is a powerful tool for mental health, apply judiciously. I get that everyone on earth is kinda having a shitty year but it feels like things just kinda escalated in my little corner

The 7th had a huge snow storm that brought traffic to a stand still. No one could leave the house and university class was online anyway. Batshit customer demanded to pick up her gear anyway. I drove in because I was the only person with keys to the shop that could get to the building. It took me a solid 2 hours going 15mph on the highway. The snow in the parking lot was up past the fenders of my truck. Crazy lady gets 10 out of 18 of her survival suits back but the other 8 still have holes in them because our only repair tech is also the only one who answers the phone or runs the computer or handles customers or cleans or disinfects anything or stores gear. I'll give you one guess who that person is.

Did you guess me? Good for you. Fun fact this was not the case in October.

Crazy lady swans off through the snowed in parking lot and because she cant find the exit, blasts straight through the ditch and onto the road.

I say fuck it and leave. I've been at work for 2 hours. I have made 24 dollars for my trouble. It takes me another hour to get home.

The 8th is Saturday and I'm supposed to be at work. No one can drive. There was another 10 8nches of snow last night. I say fuck work and go to dig out the plow truck. The canopy over the plow truck collapses as I walk out to clear the snow of it.

I do not scream.

My partner and I get the truck running and go plow people out of their driveways and then go do the shop.

We come back home and the heater doesn't work. We just spent most of last week frantically trying to limp the thing along because no heat at -20°F is in a word fucking unpleasant. At least now its 40 degrees warmer because if the snowstorm. We take it apart again. The house smells like diesel. The house smells like exhaust. The house is not cold because the wood stove can keep up at 20 above zero but it won't keep us through the winter.

There is no saving the oil heater. We need a new one.

Its 730 and neither of us have eaten. I start rice in the pressure cooker so I can throw a tasty bite on top and call it dinner and that dies too. Explosively.

Dinner is half cooked rice and microwaved curry.

Sunday is spent finding a way to stretch our increasingly thin budget to buy a new heater. Between us we actually have 2275$ and we will still cover the mortgage. Somehow. All our Christmas gifts will be hand made this year. The next thing that breaks will stay broken.

Monday, power outages due to snow storm. No wifi, no zoom meetings. Another 8 inches of snow. This is now more snow than my city gets for the full year.

My boss calls sobbing. The dog died. Joey, an 11 year old, 130lb mastiff with a tumor the size of a football on his liver has been her constant companion for at least 8 years. The pandemic has confused the bejesus out of him because while he loves the lock down and going out to play every hour or so he doesnt really like the concept of strangers in masks. Hes a guard dog and doesnt understand that men in masks coming into the shop are not here to kill mom they're wearing masks so they don't kill mom.

Mondays the shop is closed anyway and I spend it installing the new heater. It doesn't quite fit in the space the old heater came out of but its warm.

Tuesday, I go to work, everyone cancels class, I once again gently explain to a regular that eugenics is bad. I would like to curse him out. I cant. He drops a grand on scuba gear and leaves, talking about how great his trip to Mexico will be.

I do not scream.

A friend calls to ask how I'm doing. Not great. Yea, her niether. She asks if I want to go out to the backcountry with her over the weekend. I explain that my leg physically does not move and I'm downing copious amounts of advil to remain upright. The doctor sent me in for an MRI but has not yet called back. Plus I'm supposed to go to Valdez for the weekend and actually go diving. That I can do with limited use of my leg.

She says yikes, take it easy, take care of yourself, I love you.

I say, yikes, I'm tired of taking it easy, I wanna play, I love you too.

Hit me up if your plans open up and we can do something gentle on your leg. She says.

God yes. The cold woods away from people sounds like paradise. I dont even care that it will cause me rending physical pain to get there. I need a break.

Its Wednesday. I go to school. I get pulled over. Miraculously I dont get a ticket. I'm white female and conventionaly attractive, maybe not so miraculous. I rolled through a stop sign but I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a ticket.

I get a text in class. One of the instructors who works with the dive shop has tested positive for covid. I haven't seen the man in 2 months. I needed a spare instructor but he was nowhere to be found. But hey, evidently that's a good thing.

I go to work. I vacillate between doing the job a 4 people and having nothing to do.

I go to the grocery store because I misjudged my last monthly grocery run and even though I'm increasing my exposure I'm out of cheese and tea damnit.

The store is packed. Pandemic who?

My partner and I haven't had a date nite in a while and this week has been shitty. I want a nice dinner. I pick up a couple boxes of the carton sushi which isnt terrible and is about as nice as I can justify on the new budget. I grab a gallon of milk and a few other things. I forgot my wallet in the truck and the cashier is chill and sets my stuff aside while I grab it.

I pay and take my stuff home and realize I left one of my bags at the store. No cheese or tea for me.

Thursday. 10am my phone goes off with an emergency alert. The govoner has grown a spine in light of recent elections and is instituting a voluntary lock down. My state has 500 new cases a day. That might not sound like a lot but theres only 300,000 people in Alaska and we've got poor medical infrastructure.

Unfortunately Alaska is full of Alaskans and nobody can tell us what to do. Nothing changes. 7pm rolls around and I'm teaching scuba classes in the pool.

I load a few hundred pounds of scuba gear into the back of my truck. In a wet wetsuit. In the snow. In a fabric facemask. 6 feet apart. In the pool.

I dont get paid for pool time.

Over the summer we had 6 dive masters including me, all big burly dudes, much better suited to picking things up. Its November and I'm the only one.

The kids I'm teaching are going to Hawaii. They're 10 and 13 and so wildly excited about breathing underwater its beautiful to watch. And they're traveling to an island. In a pandemic.

Friday.

Unload scuba gear so it doesnt get stolen out of the back of my truck while I'm at class. Were doing a make up lab today. Hey of the five student in my class only one of us has covid so theres that.

My boss calls an let's me know that shes left for Valdez without me. If I'd like to make an 8 hour drive by myself in a snowstorm I'm welcome to follow.

I'm in class till an hour before shop closing. I'm not driving across town so I can run on the open sign for half an hour.

The shop stays closed on Friday.

Saturday.

I explained to everyone we had business with that the shop would be closed over the weekend and Friday. I planned on being in Valdez. Hell I canceled plans to be in Valdez.

I open the shop and immediately field calls about why we werent open. I start to explain about the Valdez trip and logistical difficulties and then I realize that shes not mad about that. The woman was here before I opened early this morning. We have never been open that early. The hours are on the door.

A regular comes in. Hes also confused as to why I'm here.

Sunday finds me curled up in bed, reluctant to leave. Getting out of bed has not played out well for me recently.

A friend comes over to chat with my partner about specialist rifle parts. This isnt that wierd, he works at a gun shop and they've been discussing upgrading my partners current rifle set up.

He is wearing a full Scottish kilt. Red tartan. Looks very lovely.

I make zucchini bread and my proportions are a little off because I have too much zucchini so it's a little over moist but it's good. I'm recovering from an asskicker of a week and next week will be better.

Monday morning:

Baby brother has covid

Dads getting the results of his rapid test tonight.

Mom isnt getting tested because she says she doesnt have symptoms but that's not the fucking point mom.

So, I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not diving in Valdez. I'm not skiing backcountry.

I'm not sick. I'm not flat broke yet. I dont have a ticket. I have a job. I have people who care about me. Im managing my physical and mental health as best I can. Im just fucking exhausted.

#vent post #writing #holy fuuuuuck #2020

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quackspot · 4 years ago

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i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him

omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)

any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm

HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana

his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear

since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)

i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends

(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)

ok back to the topic at hand. platano.

i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them

the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow

i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke

so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me”

that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful.

(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)

i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.

so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least

(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)

on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now

“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground.

“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??”

“I can do that?”

“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.

“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.”

Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could.

His dads were never worried.

hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene

he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake

i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well

it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn

yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it

OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE

so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie

(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)

ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.

here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO

“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed.

why is it bolded. anyway.

i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs.

i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????”

some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin

looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im tired lol)

OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku

uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca. ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now

He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.

“Banana, mango,

Each tasting amazingly.

A taste of evil.”

Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.

it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.

actually that’s all i will write. i could do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)

#I REALLY WENT SLIGHTLY OFF-TOPIC #like i went broader then refocused in at the end #so if you want the basics its just. right at the end #my brain's out of work mode now it's going into the deepfry machine #melon-official

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fuck-customers · 6 years ago

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TLDR: Im ready to quit because of ONE coworker even though I love the rest of my department and new manager. Sorry for a long rant but it's been a long time coming. This is a fuck coworkers. I work in the bakery as a Baker n main weekly closer, at the grocer of rotten, been at this hell hole for about 5.5-6years, and I've only quit once n came back to because of one coworker whom we will call H. Now before H came back I had heard stories about her n her craziness. I tried shrugging it off, after all how could I judge someone I'd never met based upon one bakers comments? I was dead wrong. She started out nice, acting like I was her buddy. We hung out a few times, n little by little she would snitch to our bakery manager things i "wasn't" doing or saying false things to her that "I"had said about outmr manager, who was a raging jerk who made so many people quit under her as well. She would also unload all her work on me in various ways, " oh I couldn't get WXYZ, I know you have a lot do but can you do those for me too?" on an almost daily occurrence. I eventually had enough of H and her backhanded, lying, and manipulative ways, along with my jackass manager that I eventually put in my 2weeks. I was free and happy, got about 6 months away from there before I got a text from H. She was miserable now that I was gone and our manager was making her the newest target for her hatred. She was allowed to transfer to bulk, but they had to have a replacement for her and she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown that would lead to self harm if she couldn't get out of the bakery. Reluctantly I agreed to come back, but with almost top pay because if I had to dressn with our manager again I'd be at least paid to deal with her bullshit. H was happy, she thrived in bulk, and eventually was promoted to scanning n signs, cool beans, whatever. I stayed in bakery, went through evil manager, another manager who was a fellow baker(dumb as a rock n stoned out of her mind half the time but as long as we had hours n product not my problem.) Stoned manager eventually gets into enough trouble having only been the manager maybe a little over a year and is demoted for various reasons: So many people quit because of her as well, her shrink was always too high, inventory wa never on par with what Corp wanted, she wa leaving early, etc. We get our newest manager, J. She's fabulous, she's willing to work with everyone n give them a weekend off of they want, she always tells you that you're doing a great job, how much she appreciates you, lets us giggle talk n listen to music n we are in general a much more upbeat bunch now. Well this changed when H was forced to step down n be relocated to bakery due to whatever reason (rumor mill says she was sleeping with an ASM, which I can believe because I already know she slept with an ex ASM when she was still in bulk, n such relationship was reported to HR). Our SM n H are bff, she's kissed enough ass since she came back to the store that she can do no wrong in his eyes. So he moves her instead if firing her, claiming it was to help us since we were incredibly short staffed at the time. We also got an extra clerk, a guy who was a cashier, so it seemed like a general SM move. H gets put on coldcase, which kind of pissed me off because I'd been trying my hardest every night to maintain the damn thing, n get backups done to prove I should be coldcase. H isn't bad at the job, just knows how to waste huge amounts of time on one task n over fills the case every week. But everything looks nice so management doesn't call her out on it. I stop helping make backups cause fuck it that's her job now and she's here 5 days a week for 8hours, that's enough time to have everything you need done right??? NOPE APPEARNTLY NOT. She constantly leaves stuff off, doesn't clean up her area, leaves passive aggressive notes about "I need you to do this for me" leaves early or calls out on some days only to come in on her days off to "make up"her hours, is constantly using products we aren't supposed to use on things we make, n gives customers whatever they want on such short notice, but will give attitude to customers if she's in a bad mood, and overfills the coldcase with so much product that I eventually dump days later. The most I dumped one week (all on one day) was over $350 from her bullshit. And once again this gross waste of Corp time and money goes without a shit given. Last night (8/21)was the last straw however. I came in n a guy from grocery immediately tells me H was screaming and yelling and talking shit about me to our new ASM, n telling him "SHE NEEDS TO DO THESE THINGS FOR ME, I WANT YOU TO MAKE A LIST FOR HER." Like BITCH REALLY!? You're 👏not👏my👏supervisor👏 So I plug in the few missing items cause I have nothing to do til I can start pulling items from our self serve anyways, but I notice on the list at the bottom " make backups of cupcakes and out of stock items" n ya'll I lose my shit. I was ready to cry out of anger. I told our ASM I refused to do backups for her, the last time I did she didn't use anything but the cupcakes and honestly i'm not making shit if she's gonna waste it on overfilling the case, and that she's here 5days a week for 8hours, NOT my problem that she can't find time to do that. I also pointed out she came in Sunday for about 4 hours on HER DAY OFF to make up hours n bullshited like 3 large fruit tarts when she could have actually done backups (I had even pointed that out to her). He just nodded n said ok (which I'm kinda scared I'll get in trouble for saying no) Like im going to have a LONG talk with our bakery manager when she gets back from vacation about how I feel, n maybe transfer to bulk to help the specialist there cause she has hours n its just her. I love helping her package candy up when I close(I seriously have nothing to do most nights since we hired a new girl for midshifts), n I get to nibble on any leftover candy(with in reason). Its super relaxing and smells so good, it really is the only reason I haven't just quit on the spot.

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kawaiianimeredhead · 6 years ago

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Oh right I wanted to rant. Im still on my phone so there might be typos but oh well

Edit: this got way longer and rambly than I expected oops. I hope this read more works, i never actually checked yesterday when I used it to see if it still worked on mobile so if it doesnt oops and sorry

Anyways. In september a new company took over our contract and thats a whole rant on its own. The previous lead (my dad but not important) left before the new company came and he left Sam in charge. Sam has been there for like four or five years and he's a pretty good guy. When the new cobtract started he was very quickly overwhelmed with the bs and also with the paper abd computer stuff he had to do so he stepped down. Hes still there and actually was still in charge for a bit after he stepped down because we didnt have a new lead.

And now we do have a new lead. This was apparently a Process from what ive heard. Nobody really wanted the job and im not sure how the Boss from the company even went about hiring but i heard that a couple people he considered weren't interested and then I was told that someone was hired or was going to be hired and quick before she even started. I heard these from two differenr people because one told me she qas being walked around and woukd start soon and another said she wasnt coming a day or so later. Someone was hired though and the first night he was there so was the Boss showing him around kinda. I spoke with him a bit and he seemed nice. Def better than the Boss who I cant stand beinf around for long hes got weird and annoying vibes around him.

None of this is actually particularly relevant or necessary for this rant but it came out anyways.

So this new lead has tried all thr different shifts/jobs out and and has been with us for like a month or so now maybe? The first schedule he was properly scheduled on was such a SHIT week/schedule because I went from working 5-4 days a week to 3 and instead of doing bathrooms which is 3 hours or 4 depending on if I'm also doing trash to working 2 hours one day, 2 or 3 the next, and 3 or 4 the last. And it sucks. Then, the first schedule to come out that he made (with the help of the Boss) had ALL of us on less days and hours and HE now working every day but one and working both in the morning AND at night. Now I'm not convinced this was soley his decision because I know he made this schedule with the Boss and i have a suspicion that the Boss encouraged him or persuaded him or some other kind of bull shit to do the schedule like this. And then the week after was the same schedule copied again and this week coming up is the same minus a few small changes.

Now all this is annoying and bull shit on its own but not even the main fuel to this rambling rant. With this schedule, hes scheduled to clean the bathrooms and trash every day except Sunday, which is when I am scheduled on them. Last week was the first week of this and besides the day I'm specificed to do bathrooms im not given a specific job. Imbonly told to do "extras" so ive asked Sam and hes told me to do offices one day and some windows the other. I come in Saturday ready to do the windows which ive been dying to do because they look awful and they used to be my Thing so I get really annoyed about them often but then I notice the trash hadnt been done. So I start doing that thinking maybe that was what I was supposed to be doing. Then while doing this I notice the main breakroom doesnt look particularly clean, breakrooms are a part of the bathroom persons job. This was annoying but because it wasnt Bad I left it. I then go to the next break room which is smaller and always messier because more people stay in it for longer, this one also looked dirtier than it should be. In addition, the bathroom's trash hadnt beeb taken out which is a part of the bathroom job. Bathroom trash is separate from trash trash as far as jobs go, theyre usually done together but if someone is doinf "extras" and someone else bathrooms, bathrooms normally gets bathroom trash abd extras the rest. Something felt really off about the bathroom as well and combined with the breakdowns I had a suspicion that bathrooms hadnt been done. So I decided to check the costumer bathrooms for their trash and their cleanliness. When I got there they absolutely had not been done. Which ! I hadn't planned for. I was taking my time on trash and now I had to do bathroom s.

Nobody had been called or texted about the lead not being at work. And he absolutely has our numbers. We used to sign in on a time sheet and that would have helped us noticed but we recently got a finger print time clock which, as far as I know, we cant check other peoples hours on. So we had no fucking clue he just hadnt been in the previous night.

Then this week comes along. Friday talking with Sam he mentioned something along the lines of not checking the bathrooms. Mentioning that its not really our fault if we dont abd they havent been done because since were not scheduled for them, we have no reason to assume they wouldnt be done. So I hadnt looked in the bathrooms but I did notice the break room looked a bit messy and which had me a bit concerned about a repeat of the previous week. But I didnt wanna do them and I knew Sam didnt either so I left it be but texted nick to ask if hed seen the lead the previous night. Nick confirmed hed been in and was seen cleaning the bathrooms. Yesterday, I briefly looked into the main break room and it looked not great, and then later I went to the bathroom in the smaller breakroom's bathroom (they have really nice soap they buy themselves thats not really importantto this tho) and noticed that one looked AWFUL. It absolutly hadnt been swept and I felt bad but it wasnt what I was scheduled for so I just kinda left it... Their bathroom also had 1ply toilet paper in it, which is what we had when the company first took over it its AWFUL everyone complained so we switched but the unused rolls are still in our closet. Nobody told our new lead this so he had put some of this in the bathrooms. Then later on in the morning, I noticed several trash cans had stuff in it. Not trash but like residue from trash? Like sticky spots of soda oe coffee, some gum, things like that. Basically things that pointed to him only dumping out the trash and not changing the bag. The bags dont always get changed everyday, thats not really an issue, but if theres something still kinda in them they normally are changed because thats gross and why would it just be left like that... I also noticed that up front by the entrance door none of the trash had been got. The busiest area for trash (from customers) and it was still ! There! And I had actually heard Friday or last Friday that this wasnt the first time. Again I left it because I had other things to do.

Now this morning. I worked bathrooms and trash. Trash went ok, I changed a lot of the bags becsuse I prefer to do it regardless and it was just normal overall. Then bathrooms. The bathroom cart is a mess. Which started my mood. The top is all unorganized and theres dirty water in the mop bucket. When I went go get new water, I had set the mop off to the side assuming it had already veen run out and dried because it had been in the part of the bucket where you ring it out and it had been there since yesterday morning. I finished filling the bucket and then look over and notice the puddle forming under the mop because my assumption had been wrong and worse, it smelled like pee. ! Carring on The first two bathrooms were ok, not great but fine. Then I got to the main breakroom and noticed itd clearly been cleaned, Sam worked the day shift Saturday so I assume he swept and mopped. I also swept and mopped. Then, the small break room. Sam didnt clean this one. Which is fair on his part because I think throughout the whole day at least one or more people are sitting in it with no time for someone to clean. So I start and its just the whole thing, even the bathroom floor, was so bad. Aside from the floor the bathroom part was ok, but the floor really didnt seem to have been swept. And the main floor absolutely hadnt been swept. This was obvious from the start but it kept making me madder and madder as I swept and saw how much trash was on the floor. It absolutely put me behind because I wanted to get as much as I could. The cutomer bathrooms also looked pretty bad which is had to tell who thats on, but wheb I got to them it was apparent somethibg else I hadnt fully thought of as a problem until then. Behind all the toilets, like on then but behidb the seat part, there was so much DUST. I had noticed before in the other bathrooms but didnt really think about it because of things plus i see the dust more often collect in the orher bathrooms than that one for some reason and I didnt even realize this but because it was something New in the costumer bathroom it was really noticeable now. Which made ne even madder. Its not hard to clean, were supposed to be cleaning the toilet seats anyways so getting just behind them isnt anything!

And its just so aggrivating. The longer at work i was this morning the more it pissed me off. Especially because in addition to what I was seeing, the things I had heard from others over the last couple of weeks started piling on.

With my own eyes i had seen how bad the cart had been and from sam I heard that the water in the bucket had been in there all week, he suspected that he wasnt changing it. He also commented on the rags all over the cart thinking that he wasnt using paper towels to clean and instead used the rags. I heard about how a couple of times now hed forgotten or ignore the front trash cans and some others. I heard from someone in the meat room that when he cleans it he doesnt do that grear a job and even broke a couple small things. Which is all very concerning to hear since thats a fucking sanitation issue!? And I heard from nick yesterday that he thinks that the lead isnt cleaning all thw bathrooms every day and is instead only cleaning them when they look dirty. Which I'm a bit inclinded to believe because the underside of some of the seats seemed much dirtier than id expected.

And its all infuriating! The Boss is the one who showed him all the jobs, none of us showed him any of what we do it was all the Boss. So like, did HE tell the lead not to do this or that? To do some of it to save time? I dont know but some of it is common sense regardless of what hes beeb told hes still fucking it up and hes our fucking boss. And the main one doing everything!

The store hasnt looked as clean from the start of this new contract and now it's even worse and its awful!

And I dont have a way to end this rant it got really long snd feels like it needs a good closer but I dont have one...

#work tag #hope the read more thing works #this got long #and it doesnt even have the same anger behind it as it should because its all typed #im so mad #dont mind me

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ethicallysourcedhumanmeat · 2 years ago

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lmao how come its always the person who does the absolute least acting like they're being worked to death???

this nasty old lady i work with keeps putting her shit sights on me. she thinks I'm spoiled, and getting special treatment, meanwhile the special treatment is...

-I get supervisor tasks bc our department 2nd is on medical leave and I already know how to do them from when our last 2nd was acting manager

-I 'leave early' also known as I can sit down in the middle of my shift for and hour bc I'm chronically not ok and my joints will seize up, so if I get all my shit done, I punch for my lunch 1hr before I'm off, get my groceries, punch back in from lunch, then i punch out to go home so i technically took my lunch and payroll doesnt have to manually fix it and i dont put the department over hours

-new one, I get to 'just change my shifts on a whim' because Im the only canteen person who will work sundays means every Sunday i work, if this specific bitch needs a Saturday night off I'm the only other deli closer, if the one other canteen lady books a saturday off (which she does every 2nd week) its me, if the boss needs a saturday off its fucking me opening the deli. As a consolation prize for this shitty reality my boss acknowledges I get the privilege of, if I work a canteen shift, doing backshift, which yes absolutely means I was scheduled for 8 hours and finished in 6 and did not stay and put the order away for her, bc thats literally the only reason for her to be there befire the store opens

like no one wants to do what I do, I like the work I do, I am fucking good at it and I have no problem getting it all done bc I dont hover over everyone else in the department.

I know my boss spoke to her about leaving me alone because she's amped up again but jesus shitting christ.

we have a new girl, and shes learning but slowly. everyone is frustrated because she got hired fulltime but isn't as fast as she could be a month in. personallyi dont care how many hours she guarenteed I'm frustrated that she's slow bc she's supposed to be my relief, but she's getting better shes learning 2 deots at once its whatever. 2 weeks ago I was mad bc I closed after this girl and had all the dayshift tasks plus my regular shit. I managed mostly.

last Saturday I opened which i dont normally do and new girl closed. nasty lady was offered a shift just doing my 6 catering trays for the next day, it took her 5.5 hours to do 6 trays ttgat take 20mins each tops. but whatever I was able to put an order away, do all my grab and go trays, tray prep for the next 3 days and work most of my stock, which gave me an hour to just really throughly go over procedures with the new girl since she'd mentioned feeling lost and not knowing how to figure out what to do, or where to find/put things.

I went over reductions in the case and on the floor and the nasty lady pulls me aside and starts telling me not just that I'm doing it wrong but when I point out ive been doing this 3 years, she says "well if [dept manager] sees youll get in shit" i repeat 3 years i do reductions like this bc the DM tells me to "well the GSM isnt going to like it if he sees" genuinely i know Im fine bc we actually had this conversation, like the thing about be trusted with dept running shit is being spoken to like I'm an equal my management. neither of these threats are threatening bc im not afraid of the mangers and I'm doing anything wrong. after i left she told the new girl idshown her everything the wrong way

and i spoke to my boss about it, mostly bc i wanted to varify nothing had changed procedurally and I'd just missed it but also bc I'm fucking sick of being threatened with management when I'm not doing anything wrong and also working myself to death, especially not by a person who cant do half the work i get done

#long post #sorry #lmao #like my boss is apologetic #and its whatever #id rather work 10pm-4am while theres are no customers in the store #if I'm doing canteen #and then deli doesn't have to dance around me to get their trays done #like i ain't pressed #about the weekends really

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liketolaugh-writes · 6 years ago

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[Context: Sebastian is a LetsPlayer in modern times. He is still a demon and the events of Kuroshitsuji happened over a hundred years ago as appropriate. He does not currently have a master, having finished with his last some five to ten years ago. Because he enjoys human pastimes on occasion, he decided to amuse himself with this for a while. It’s set in the Marvel universe, insofar as metas are known to exist and he is known as a lightly closeted one. He is currently playing Undertale, and because of who he is as a person, has accidentally stumbled onto the Genocide route on his first playthrough.]

The character avatar walks down the purple hallway. In the top-left corner, Sebastian’s brows are furrowed. He looks unsettled, but is attempting to appear merely bored.

Sebastian: This is quite an unusual take on an RPG game, I’ll admit. I’ve never encountered one that attempted to make me feel guilty for progressing before. Toriel’s last words in particular were… well. I expect this is going to be quite an interesting letsplay.

The avatar reaches the hallway exit and goes through. On the other side, Flowey is sitting in a spotlight.

Sebastian: Oh, it’s you again. Now, you, I would not feel bad for killing at all.

Flowey: Hahaha… You’re not really human, are you?

Sebastian’s eyebrows lift as he reads the dialogue. For a moment, he looks amused.

Flowey: No. You’re empty inside. Just like me. In fact… You’re Ciel, right? We’re still inseparable, after all these years…

Sebastian’s brows furrow, and he pauses in reading the dialogue.

Sebastian: That’s an interesting plot twist, this early in the game. I thought I’d just fallen down. Perhaps I have escaped the Underground before? But then, why is it that I fell in again? To take revenge?

Flowey: Listen. I have a plan to become all powerful. Even more powerful than you and your stolen soul.

Sebastian scowls, but does not remark on the dialogue.

Flowey: Let’s destroy everything in this wretched world. Everyone, everything in these worthless memories. Let’s turn ‘em all to dust.

Flowey [computer-generated voice]: That’s a wonderful idea!

Flowey disappears into the ground, and Sebastian continues to frown at the screen. His scowl has eased.

Sebastian: That was… odd. This game is obviously not what it first appears. Is that my goal, then? To conquer the Underground? It seems frivolous and unnecessary, but it’s quite the take on the traditional RPG mechanic of slaughtering everything you come across.

The avatar begins to move forward again and soon encounters the door out.

The screen fades to black and then displays the title screen, UNDERTALE. It then switches to By Toby Fox, and then to black. Sebastian smiles.

Sebastian: As I said, quite an interesting game. I’m looking forward to continuing it. I expect it has some interesting lessons to teach, and perhaps some remarks on human nature as well. It’s a surprising contrast with the rather cute aesthetic.

Sebastian chuckles, and as the screen reforms on a snowy forest, the avatar begins walking right, and then pauses and interacts with the bush nearby.

[…!? There’s a camera hidden in the bushes.]

Sebastian: …Interesting.

The avatar continues right. The avatar passes a branch, and a handful of steps after the avatar passes, it breaks unexpectedly. Sebastian rolls his eyes.

Sebastian: The music is appropriately ominous for such a setting. I do hope I have an encounter worthy of it soon.

The avatar starts to cross a bridge, and then stops on the left edge. A shadow begins to approach from where the avatar came from.

Sebastian: Speak of the devil.

Sebastian chooses a creaky, deep voice for the new character.

?: H u m a n.

The avatar turns around. The shadow sticks out its hand, and the avatar takes it. The shadow is suddenly lit, revealing itself to be a grinning skeleton in a blue hoodie, and a fart sound plays. Sebastian snorts, visibly surprised.

Sebastian: Well, that was rather anticlimactic.

?: heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it’s ALWAYS funny.

Despite the change of font, Sebastian sticks with the original voice, raising one eyebrow and smiling in obvious amusement.

?: …that’s, uh. your cue to laugh. or, uh, to emote at all…?

Sebastian chuckles again.

Sebastian: They really are pushing the inhumanity of this character, aren’t they? They ought to be careful not to go heavy-handed, but it’s amusing as it is, and somewhat unsettling as intended.

?: …(gee, lady, you really know how to pick ‘em, huh…?) OK, that’s fine. everyone’s got their own sense of humor. i’m sans. sans the skeleton. im actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. but… you know… i dont really care about capturing anybody.

Sebastian grins.

Sebastian: Perhaps you should, Mr. Skeleton. It looks like letting this one go will be bad for your health.

Sans: now my brother, papyrus… he’s a human-hunting FANATIC.

Sebastian: Ah, so is that the interesting battle I’m promised? Or- no. No, given the nature of the last boss, I don’t suppose any of these bosses are going to be truly terrible people. Hm. Does that mean I won’t be able to dispose of Flowey?

Sans: hey, actually, I think that’s him over there.

Sebastian: Another boss battle already? That seems unlikely, so I suppose this Sans character is going to help me as well.

Sans: i have an idea. go through this gate thingy. yeah, go right through. my bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.

Sebastian chuckles, head dipping as he smirks. The avatar and Sans rush right, quickly arriving at a small area containing a lamp shaped precisely like the profile view of the avatar, two rocks, and a shop stand.

Sans: quick, behind that conveniently-shaped lamp.

The avatar does not move. Sebastian raises his eyebrows.

Sans: …uh, okay, i guess you don’t have to.

Sebastian [softly]: …Strange.

From the right, a tall skeleton in red zooms in, stopping in front of Sans and the avatar. Sebastian chooses a high, crackly voice for this character.

Papyrus: SANS!!! HAVE YOU FOUND A HUMAN YET!??!

Sans: yeah

Sebastian: From any other game I would expect betrayal, but…

Papyrus: REALLY!?!? WOWIE!!!

Sebastian: Goodness, two lines and I already cannot wait for this character to be gone.

Papyrus: GUESS THAT’S SETTLED!!

The skeleton leaves out the right side. Sebastian snorts.

Sebastian: My wish has been granted.

Sans: that worked out, huh?

The avatar wanders around the screen and interacts with the lamp.

[Just a conveniently-shaped lamp.]

Sebastian chuckles.

Sebastian: I’ll admit, this game is quite funny when it isn’t resorting to bodily humor.

The avatar moves to the stand and interacts.

[It’s some sort of checkpoint or sentry-station. But there are bottles of ketchup, mustard, and relish sitting inside…]

Sebastian: I hope they don’t belong to the skeletons. I imagine that would be quite messy, and what a waste.

The avatar begins to move right but is stopped at the exit.

Sans: well, i’ll be straight-forward with you. my brother’d really like to see a human… so, y’know, it’d really help me out… if you kept pretending to be one.

Sebastian pauses, staring at the screen with an unreadable expression as Sans exits left.

Sebastian: Again with this, hm…? If not a human, then I wonder what I’m meant to be.

Sebastian smiles.

Sebastian: Perhaps a demon? Well, I suppose I’ll find out in time. …If I find out that the playable character is a metahuman, however, I’m going to be deeply disappointed in not only the game’s creator, but also every person who recommended this game to me. That would be an utterly pathetic plot twist.

The avatar exits right, and the approaches the nearby sparkling save point.

[16 Left]

Sebastian: Quite handy. But why is the text red…?

The avatar explores the area for a while, and then encounters a monster. The monster is identified as Snowdrake.

[Snowdrake flutters forth!]

Sebastian: Though I may come to regret it, given the odd ‘but nobody came’ encounters, I believe I’ll handle all of these now. I’ll clip in the images and dialogue of each new monster, however – for your amusement, yes?

The screen skips through several images without remark and resettles on the same stretch of path.

Sebastian: That didn’t take too long, did it?

Sebastian smiles.

Sebastian: Now we can progress the story without interference. I could do without the skeleton characters, myself, but they’re a necessary evil. Never mind- they’ll be gone soon enough.

Sebastian laughs, and the avatar exits right.

Sebastian: I did explore the top path, but there was nothing of interest. Ah, here we are.

Papyrus: SO SANS! WHEN’S THE HUMAN SHOWING UP???

Sebastian: Mr. Papyrus’ enthusiasm is amusing, but I’ve known enough people like him to be quite glad that his dialogue is text-only. Goodness knows how loud it would be.

Papyrus: I WANT TO LOOK MY SUNDAY BEST… OR AT LEAST MY TUESDAY PRETTY-GOOD.

Sebastian laughs again and shakes his head slightly.

Sebastian: A game with a sense of humor more sophisticated than a grade schooler, what a rarity.

Sans: don’t you only have one outfit?

Papyrus: YEAH, BUT I COULD STYLE MY HAIR!

Sebastian covers his mouth with the back of his hand. He is grinning, and his eyes glitter with amusement.

Sans: oh. right. good idea. say, why don’t you look over there?

Papyrus looks at the avatar. An exclamation mark appears briefly over his head. He turns back at Sans, who turns to the human, and then back to the human, while Sans looks back at Papyrus. This process repeats itself several times, rapidly speeding up, and Sebastian lowers his hand to smile in open amusement. Eventually, both skeletons stop, and then turn right.

Papyrus: SANS!!! OH MY GOD!!!!

Sebastian: That is entirely too many exclamation points, and I can picture the volume perfectly.

Papyrus: I’M DIZZY. WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?

Sebastian snorts, apparently caught by surprise.

Sans: behold.

Sans turns to his brother. The screen pans left to center on the avatar and reveal a rock.

Papyrus: OH MY GOD!!!

The screen shunts right again as Papyrus turns back to Sans.

Papyrus: WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME TO LOOK AT A ROCK.

Sebastian closes his eyes and covers his mouth with a gloved hand. A muffled snort escapes anyway and the corners of his eyes are crinkled. After a second, he removes his hand and shakes his head.

Sebastian: This game is entirely too much.

Sans turns back to the avatar.

Sans: hey, what’s that in front of the rock?

An exclamation mark appears above Papyrus’ head.

Papyrus: OH MY GOD!!!

Sebastian takes a deep breath.

Papyrus: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT IS.

Sebastian lets it out in a huff, closes his eyes, and tilts his head back briefly. After two seconds, he opens them again, and then continues without comment.

Sans: well. it’s not a rock.

Sebastian: A pair of geniuses, these two.

Papyrus: NOT A ROCK…? OH NO!!! BY PROCESS OF ELIMINATION!!! THAT MEANS IT’S A HUMAN!!!

Sebastian closes his eyes again, presses his palm to a forehead, and for a moment, laughs helplessly, quiet and breathy.

Sebastian: What an imbecile.

Sebastian opens his eyes and continues on, shaking his head.

Papyrus: AHEM!! HUMAN!! PREPARE YOURSELF!! FOR HIGH JINKS! FOR LOW JINKS! DANGERS! PUZZLES! CAPERS! JAPERS! BEING CAPTURED!! AND OTHER SORTS OF FUN ACTIVITIES.

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

Sebastian: If I have any say in the matter, I will not be participating in a single one of those things, Mr. Skeleton. Particularly not with someone as obviously loud as yourself – my ears hurt and you’re not even speaking aloud.

Papyrus: REFRESHMENTS WILL BE PROVIDED… IF YOU DARE! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!

Sebastian wrinkles his nose as Papyrus exits right.

Sebastian: Is that his laugh? How awful. I shall give him as little cause to do that as possible.

Sans turns to the avatar.

Sans: …and you don’t even bat an eye, huh?

Sans exits right.

Sebastian: Well, I wouldn’t want to give that moron any form of encouragement. That’s your job, is it not? Really, this Sans character is… quite suspicious, I’d say. Though not as suspicious as the playable character, naturally… Given that they seem to be on a warpath. Now, let’s see-

The avatar moves right and interacts with the stand nearby.

[There’s some narration on this cardboard box.]

[YOU OBSERVE THE WELL-CRAFTED SENTRY STATION. WHO COULD HAVE BUILT THIS, YOU PONDER… I BET IT WAS THAT VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN!]

Sebastian rolls his eyes again and sighs, muttering something inaudible before speaking.

Sebastian: Goodness, he does get into everything, doesn’t he? And self-congratulatory, too. I’d bet anything he isn’t a royal guardsman at all.

[(NOTE: NOT YET A VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN.)]

Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose.

Sebastian: Ridding the Underground of this idiot will be a service.

The avatar moves right. An encounter appears.

[but nobody came.]

Sebastian: Ah yes, there it is. Very ominous… the first few times, at least.

The avatar continues right and crosses into the path of another station, this one sporting a bell. When the avatar reaches it, a dog emerges from behind the counter.

?: D-did something move? Was it my imagination? I can only see moving things. …hey! I can’t stop shivering all of a sudden. …Who’s there!?

An encounter overtakes the screen.

[Doggo blocks the way!]

Sebastian: Why would you announce your biggest weakness to the world immediately before initiating a fight? Really, now… I’ll take many things at face value in a PC game, but some of these habits are simply absurd.

Sebastian continues to mutter as the fight progresses, looking bored. Doggo is easily defeated, and the avatar moves on, exiting right.

Sebastian: I might have been more sympathetic if it had been a cat. Of course, a cat likely wouldn’t have announced its only weakness so easily, hm?

The avatar continues to travel.

[but nobody came.]

Sebastian: Yes, yes, I understand, everyone is dead. I am aware of that. I actually made that happen. It doesn’t appear to have decreased the amount of trouble I go to just to move, unfortunately.

The avatar reaches an intersection, pauses briefly, and exits top. A snowman appears onscreen and the avatar approaches and interacts with it.

?: Hello. I am a snowman. I cannot move. Traveller, if you could…

[(You got the Snowman Piece.)]

Sebastian: Well, that was simple foolishness.

Sebastian checks the Snowman Piece in his inventory.

[“Snowman Piece” – Heals 45 HP. Please take this to the ends of the earth.]

Sebastian smirks with too many teeth.

Sebastian: 45 HP, hm? I think I’d like more of that, if at all possible.

The avatar interacts with the Snowman again.

Snowman: Oh me, oh my. What are you doing? Soon there won’t be any of me left…

Sebastian: I’m taking your flesh for sustenance, isn’t it obvious?

[(You got the Snowman Piece.)]

The Snowman shrinks dramatically. Sebastian smirks, and the avatar interacts with the Snowman again.

Snowman: Stop… Please…

The Snowman collapses into a small puddle of snow. Sebastian chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian: Well, what did you expect, giving pieces of yourself to a stranger? Quite foolish, as I said. You should never give of yourself, really – even those you trust can easily turn their backs on you.

The avatar interacts with the pile of snow again.

[A useless pile of snow.]

Sebastian: Only three, then. Well, that’s quite enough to be getting on with. I won’t need that many, with a small amount of luck and a fair bit of skill. And I like to think I have both in spades, don’t you?

The avatar exits bottom, and heads toward the right exit. An encounter spawns.

[but nobody came.]

Sebastian pauses, frowning.

Sebastian: …An interesting choice of mechanic.

Sebastian ends the encounter and the avatar exits right. Sans and Papyrus are waiting by a bridge on the other side.

Papyrus: YOU’RE SO LAZY!! YOU WERE NAPPING ALL NIGHT!!

Sans: i think that’s called… sleeping.

Sebastian: Regretfully, I’m actually on Mr. Papyrus’ side on this one.

Papyrus: EXCUSES, EXCUSES!

Sans and Papyrus turn to look at the avatar.

Papyrus: OH- HO! THE HUMAN ARRIVES! IN ORDER TO STOP YOU… MY BROTHER AND I HAVE CREATED SOME PUZZLES!

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

Sebastian: Well, at least they bothered to come up with an in-universe reason for gratuitous puzzle-solving, I suppose. Once again, that’s better than most games do.

Papyrus: I THINK YOU WILL FIND THIS ONE… QUITE SHOCKING!!!

The avatar starts to walk across the patch of bare ground, and Sebastian blinks, and then frowns, and then laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Sebastian: I think I could get along with this character.

Papyrus: FOR YOU SEE, THIS IS… THE, INVISIBLE… UHHHHHHH…?

Sebastian: Yes, Mr. Skeleton, not everyone is willing to play along with your foolish and pointless antics. I see this character’s attitude is going to save me quite a bit of time.

Sebastian actually looks slightly put-out by the notion.

Papyrus: HMMM… YOU MUST BE HAVING CULTURE SHOCK. YOU SEE, WHERE I COME FROM, IT’S A LOVING TRADITION. TO SUFFER THROUGH HORRIBLE PUZZLES FOR NO REASON.

Sebastian sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Sebastian: This feels oddly familiar, for some reason… Though of course, as the playable character is the one visiting here, they are indeed being rather rude. It saves me time, but not that much time, I suspect.

The avatar continues to approach the skeletons.

Papyrus: SO, UH, JUST WALK BACK THERE, AND…

The avatar does not move. Both skeletons turn south.

Papyrus: SIGH… WHY COULDN’T WE GET A HUMAN THAT LIKES PUZZLES???

Papyrus exits right.

Sebastian: My amusement at the character’s attitude aside, I would have preferred to be allowed to play the puzzles as I wished. They are a fundamental part of this sort of game, after all.

The avatar moves towards Sans and interacts.

Sans: it would make my brother happy if you played along.

Sebastian: Surprisingly, that is not my primary concern.

The avatar exits right, crosses the bridge on the other side, and passes by several trees and a snowball.

Sebastian: I’ve said it a few times already, but I’m continually fascinated by many of the stylistic choices this game makes. They all seem to be geared in a certain direction, but I’m not sure I understand what they’re trying to say as yet. I assume I will later.

The avatar exits top right, walks past both doghouses, and then returns left. Sebastian grimaces.

Sebastian: Dogs.

Eventually, the avatar exits bottom-right and emerges with the two skeletons again, and a piece of paper on the ground to their left.

Papyrus: HUMAN!!! I HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR… SANS!! WHERE’S THE PUZZLE!!!

Sebastian: At this stage, what on earth makes him think I would complete a puzzle?

Sans: it’s right there. on the ground.

Sebastian: Somehow, I’m not surprised in the least.

Sans: trust me. there’s no way they’ll skip this one.

The avatar walks past the piece of paper. Sebastian looks pained.

Papyrus: SANS!!! THAT DID NOTHING!!!

Sans: whoops. knew i should have put down junior jumble instead.

Sebastian: Oh yes, I certainly would have been far more interested in that, rather than- whatever it is that’s on the ground there.

Papyrus: WHAT?!? JUNIOR JUMBLE!? FINALLY, SOMETHING WE CAN BOTH AGREE ON.

Papyrus exits right. The avatar moves to interact with Sans.

Sans: guess you don’t like word searches, huh? me neither. i’m more of a funny pages kinda guy.

Sebastian: Of course you are. They share your high-brow sense of humor, Mr. Skeleton.

The avatar exits right, finding a piece of paper, a table with spaghetti on top, and a microwave. The top wall has a small mouse hole. Sebastian smirks and the avatar goes to interact with the piece of paper.

[It’s a note from Papyrus…]

[HUMAN!! PLEASE ENJOY THIS SPAGHETTI. (LITTLE DO YOU KNOW, THIS SPAGHETTI IS A TRAP… DESIGNED TO ENTICE YOU!!! YOU’LL BE SO BUSY EATING IT… THAT YOU WON’T REALIZE THAT YOU AREN’T PROGRESSING!! THOROUGHLY JAPED AGAIN BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!! NYEH-HEH-HEH, PAPYRUS)]

Sebastian chuckles.

Sebastian: Not much of an antagonist… or a human-hunter. And that laugh is still awful.

The avatar interacts with the save point, the spaghetti, and the microwave.

[10 left.]

[(It’s a plate of frozen spaghetti. It’s so cold, it’s stuck to the table…)]

[(It’s an unplugged microwave. All of the settings say “spaghetti.”)]

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

Sebastian: Idiot.

The avatar continues on until it reaches two dogs, which come up from the south exit.

?: What’s that smell? (Where’s that smell?) If you’re a smell… (…Identify yoursmellf!)

The two dogs wander the screen around the avatar for a few seconds before converging on it.

?: Hmmm… Here’s that weird smell… It makes me want to eliminate… (…Eliminate YOU!)

An encounter triggers.

Sebastian: God, when will I escape the dogs?

[Dogi assault you!]

Sebastian: The story of my life.

Sebastian swiftly kills Dogaressa, and then the depressed Dogamy.

Sebastian: When will I be free from the dogs…

The avatar continues to make progress, and passes by what appears to be a completed puzzle. Sebastian looks put-out again.

Sebastian: I actually would like to complete a puzzle at some point, please!

The avatar exits right, finding a grayscale board with Papyrus and Sans on the right side, standing by a machine.

Papyrus: HEY! IT’S THE HUMAN! YOU’RE GONNA LOVE THIS PUZZLE!

The avatar starts to cross the board, and Sebastian sighs, a look of resignation on his face as the avatar stops halfway across.

Sebastian: This is getting rather annoying.

Papyrus: IT WAS MADE BY THE GREAT… ARE YOU SERIOUS? SANS!!! HELP!!!

A flicker of a smile crosses Sebastian’s face. He does not explain this.

Papyrus: THEY KEEP WALKING THROUGH MY PUZZLES! THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO LET ME EXPLAIN THEM. THEN THREATEN AND BAFFLE THEM WITH DANGEROUS JAPES.

Sebastian looks exasperatedly amused.

Sebastian: This character could not be less threatening if he wasn’t a skeleton. He can do as he likes, of course, but…

Sans: well, maybe they don’t like japes.

Papyrus: EVERYONE LIKES JAPES!!!

Sans: what about undyne? doesn’t she hate puzzles?

Papyrus: SHE HATES PUZZLES. BUT SHE LOVES JAPES.

Sebastian: The distinction is vital, of course- though I couldn’t tell you what it is.

Sans: that makes sense.

Papyrus: HUMAN!! WHAT DO YOU THINK!? PUZZLES OR JAPES? … … OKAY, THIS IS NORMALLY THE PART. WHERE YOU EITHER AGREE OR DISAGREE. AND DEPENDING ON YOUR ANSWER. WE SAY SOMETHING GREAT IN RESPONSE. …HERE, WHY DON’T YOU DO THIS PUZZLE YOURSELF.

Papyrus leaves a piece of paper on the ground and slowly exits right.

Sebastian: Well, he is attempting to be helpful. He would be meeting with more success, however, if he was remotely capable of comprehending the problem at hand. Perhaps being a skeleton is suppressing his self-preservation instincts?

The avatar ignores the paper and interacts with Sans.

Sans: hey… puzzles might be fun. if you tried them.

Sebastian looks irritated.

Sebastian: Yes, I actually happen to agree with that. If I was permitted to try them.

The avatar exits right, passes the dog house, and saves.

[6 left.]

Sebastian: Mini-bosses, I assume.

The avatar exits right again and encounters another puzzle, which Sebastian solves on the first try. He still smiles slightly as the avatar exits right.

Sebastian: Well, at least that wasn’t a complete waste.

The avatar exits bottom and finds Sans.

Sans: what’s up?

Sebastian: What, nothing else?

The avatar goes left and finds Sans on the other side unreasonably quickly. Sebastian smirks slightly and the avatar interacts with Sans.

Sans: say… are you following me?

Sebastian: Clearly, I have nothing better to do.

The avatar exits left, wanders around, and an encounter triggers. It is skipped without comment, and the avatar exits top again, and then right.

Sebastian: Quite a bit of fairly pointless wandering. Am I missing something, I wonder? Though that may be an engineered feeling.

The avatar continues on and finally encounters a number of small piles of snow, ending in a large, excitable armored dog which emerges from another. Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose again.

[It’s the Greater Dog.]

Sebastian: My worst nightmare.

Sebastian defeats this foe easily.

Sebastian: There isn’t much challenge to this game, is there? Is that, too, deliberate?

Sebastian smirks.

Sebastian: Then again, I may simply be uncommonly good at it.

The avatar continues on, eventually coming to one end of a bridge. On the other, Papyrus and Sans waited.

Papyrus: HUMAN! THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE!

Sebastian: I haven’t been given any challenges yet.

Papyrus: BEHOLD! THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!

Six different weapons emerge from various parts of the screen, in between the avatar and the skeletons. Sebastian raises his eyebrows and smirks.

Sebastian: Why, Mr. Skeleton, I never would have attributed such viciousness to your character!

Papyrus: WHEN I SAY THE WORD, IT WILL FULLY ACTIVATE! CANNONS WILL FIRE! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN! ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN!!!

Sebastian looks unimpressed.

Papyrus: ARE YOU READY!? BECAUSE! I! AM! ABOUT! TO DO IT!

A pause. Papyrus turns away. Sebastian looks irritated.

Sans: well? what’s the holdup?

Papyrus: HOLDUP!? WHAT HOLDUP!? I’M… I’M ABOUT TO ACTIVATE IT NOW!

Pause.

Sebastian: Oh, for goodness’ sake.

Sans: that, uh, doesn’t look very activated.

Papyrus: WELL! …THEY’RE PROBABLY GOING TO WALK THROUGH IT. AND IT WON’T BE ANY FUN AT ALL.

Sebastian: You know, I’m not surprised in the least. And, of course, he doesn’t at all realize that once he activates it, ‘just walking through it’ is actually the entire point…

Sans: hmmm… so this human thing was a bust, huh?

Papyrus: WELL. I MEAN. I’M EXCITED TO CAPTURE THEM. SO I’LL BECOME A FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN!!!

Sebastian: You may try, Mr. Skeleton.

Papyrus: BUT ALL THE TIME I PUT INTO THESE PUZZLES… IT’S KIND OF LIKE THROWING A BIRTHDAY PARTY…

Sans: without traps and fire?

Papyrus: EXACTLY!! IT’S POINTLESS!!!

Sebastian: Goodness. I am violently reminded of far too many people.

Papyrus: MAYBE YOU WERE RIGHT TO BE LAZY ABOUT PUZZLES.

Sans: me? right about something? really?

Papyrus: …YEAH!! WHAT AM I SAYING! YOU’RE STILL COMPLETELY WRONG! I JUST HAVE THE WRONG AUDIENCE! THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH FUN UNDYNE WOULD HAVE HERE! FLAMES, VIOLENCE, IT’S RIGHT UP HER ALLEY!

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

Sebastian: Far too many people.

Papyrus: SO I WON’T WASTE THIS PUZZLE ON YOU. I JUST HAVE TO APPRECIATE… THE FRIEND I ALREADY HAVE!!!

Sebastian: And perhaps your brother, supporting you every step of the way. But that’s none of my business, of course.

The weapons withdraw and Papyrus turns away.

Papyrus: PHEW! A VALUABLE LIFE LESSON!!! NYEH HEH HEH!!!

Sebastian scowls as he reads the laugh, but does not drop the in-character voice. Papyrus exits right.

Sebastian: Another waste of time, I see.

The avatar exits right, passing Sans this time. Soon it comes to a town, which is mostly quiet. The avatar enters a building, and what appears to be a shopping screen pops up.

[But nobody came.]

Sebastian: That flavor text is going to haunt me in my rare attempts to sleep.

Sebastian selects ‘read’ first.

[(There’s a note here.) Please don’t hurt my family.]

Sebastian: This isn’t a game, this is a lecture on why it doesn’t actually pay to murder people who annoy you.

Sebastian then selects ‘steal.’

[You took 758G from behind the counter.]

Sebastian: And plenty of good that does me if I have no need to buy anything because the shopkeeper has apparently run away.

Sebastian selects ‘take’ and takes one of each item. Then he closes the shopping screen and the avatar continues to explore the area. It is abandoned. The avatar interacts with the sparkling save point.

[Determination.]

The avatar wanders right and finds a monster. Sebastian raises one eyebrow and the avatar interacts with it. He chooses a squeaky voice for the character.

?: Yo, everyone ran away and hid somewhere. Man, adults can be so dumb sometimes, haha… Don’t they know we’ve got Undyne to protect us!?

Sebastian [deadpan]: A tiny moron.

The avatar continues right, but every building it enters is abandoned. Sebastian frowns.

Sebastian: Then why bother to develop the town so thoroughly at all…?

Finally, the avatar exits right into a misty area. It continues right until it is obscured, and then stops and appears as a shadow. A moment later, a shadow Papyrus appears as well. Sebastian sighs, frowning.

Sebastian: Ah. From the looks of the scenery, I’d say it’s time.

Papyrus: HALT, HUMAN!

The avatar steps forward.

Papyrus: HEY, QUIT MOVING WHILE I’M TALKING TO YOU!

Sebastian smirks faintly.

Sebastian: I suppose it is rather rude. But it won’t matter soon, Mr. Skeleton.

Papyrus: I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY. FIRST: YOU’RE A FREAKING WEIRDO!

Sebastian snorts.

Papyrus: NOT ONLY DO YOU NOT LIKE PUZZLES. BUT THE WAY YOU SHAMBLE ABOUT FROM PLACE TO PLACE… THE WAY YOUR HANDS ARE ALWAYS COVERED IN DUSTY POWDER. IT FEELS… LIKE YOUR LIFE IS GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS PATH.

Sebastian’s expression falls into something unreadable.

Papyrus: HOWEVER! I, PAPYRUS, SEE GREAT POTENTIAL WITHIN YOU! EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!

Sebastian stops, and remains silent and motionless for five seconds.

Papyrus: AND ME, I HARDLY HAVE TO TRY AT ALL!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!

Sebastian does not react to either of these statements and reads them somewhat mechanically, though still in his chosen voice. The avatar steps forward again.

Papyrus: HEY, QUIT MOVING! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT! HUMAN! I THINK YOU ARE IN NEED OF GUIDANCE! SOMEONE NEEDS TO KEEP YOU ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW! BUT WORRY NOT! I, PAPYRUS… WILL GLADLY BE YOUR FRIEND AND TUTOR! I WILL TURN YOUR LIFE RIGHT AROUND!!!

The avatar continues to walk forward. Sebastian’s voice has regained his energy, but he is still expressionless.

Papyrus: I SEE YOU ARE APPROACHING. ARE YOU OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE?

Sebastian [softly]: Fool.

Papyrus: WOWIE!! MY LESSONS ARE ALREADY WORKING!! I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!

An encounter triggers and Sebastian flinches, and then scowls.

[Papyrus is sparing you.]

Sebastian: He really is precisely that kind of idiot, isn’t he? Goodness.

Sebastian scowls for a moment longer, and then kills Papyrus in silence.

Papyrus: W-WELL, THAT’S NOT WHAT I EXPECTED… BUT… ST… STILL!

Sebastian cuts himself off. His eyes go wide and begin to glow bright crimson, and his canines lengthen into fangs. Three seconds pass, and then the glow fades from his eyes, his fangs shrink away, and he relaxes. He looks melancholy. Two more seconds pass, and he reads the dialogue in a quiet and unadorned voice.

Papyrus: I BELIEVE IN YOU! YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER! EVEN IF YOU DON’T THINK SO! I… I PROMISE…

Three seconds of silence pass.

Sebastian: Well. If I had known he was that sort of character, I might have paid more mind to him earlier on. All the same… it is too late now, I suppose.

Two more seconds of silence pass, and then the avatar begins to walk again.

#sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertale #I WROTE THIS IN ONE NIGHT????#I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED???????#IT IS THREE IN THE MORNING AND I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR FOUR HOURS STRAIGHT??????????#fanfiction #my writing #yes sebastian named his character ciel #he thought it was funny cause it was a helpless kid #WHAT THE FUCK @ ME

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