#funny i started drawing this mine after a Certain chat concerning him

[bugprinz]

heh long time no draw

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 47

The Kingdom was something that I wasn’t expecting. Well, I wouldn’t have known what to expect, but this- This wasn’t what I would have imagined. There was a corral for the horses. The brick buildings had white trim. There was a gazebo where people sat and chatted. A garden, a clothes line, and people glancing up as the men who found me rode with me through the community. Picnic tables dotted the area they took me through.

“What was this place before?” I whispered, feeling awed by the simplicity of the life here contrasting against the opulence of the buildings.

“School.” One of my companions grunted.

I nodded, thinking it must have been a boarding school for diplomats’ children or politicians and the rich. I felt a flash of curiosity about Deanna’s boys, and whether they attended school here. I was still taking in my surroundings when the horses halted. We were in front of a building with the words “Post Theater” engraved into the white wood trim. I was helped down and pushed forward, toward the steps of the building.

“Go on,” the man who’d rode behind me said, coming up behind me. “You have to be presented to King Ezekiel. He’ll decide what to do with you.”

King Ezekiel? What did you expect, my mind screamed, it’s called the fucking Kingdom after all? I walked up the steps, wondering if I looked as certain as Negan had said I had when I left the tree line that first night. And then inside, I was directed toward the actual theater, and seated on a throne with a tiger at his side was a man I had to assume was the king himself.

I bowed. What else could I do? Clearly this was some type of cosplay kingdom, yet they all seemed to be taking their roles pretty damn seriously. And if I wanted to find a place here, then I’d play along.

“Rise up, young maiden.” Dear Lord, are you serious? “I am King Ezekiel. Who are you?”

I truly hoped that this theatrical man, with his graying dreads and regal attempts didn’t expect me to go ‘Shakespeare in the park’. “Jessica Grimes, your majesty.” I answered, rising and looking him straight in the eye.

“Grimes?” Ugh, there it was again, recognition. “Are you related to Rick Grimes?” I closed my eyes and prayed for composure.

“Yes, I’m his oldest daughter, sir.” I answered, breathing through my nose, hoping that he wouldn’t send me away.

He gestured for the men who were clearly still crowding me to move, or leave. “I thought you were-”

I wondered if I was supposed to be dead? Or a traitor? Or something truly offensive? “I offered myself as a trade for Glenn Rhee’s life, sir. I had no idea that I wouldn’t die for it. I-” I glanced down, collecting myself. “I left the Sanctuary. I feel I won’t be welcome in Alexandria, and even if I am, I’d rather not return.”

I could see the questions in his eyes when I raised my head. Questions that bubbled and churned. I was surprised he fought them off. “We have two of your people here, Jessica.” Shit. Who? He nodded at the men who hadn’t left, but had pulled back. “Have a seat, please. I’d like to see what they have to say.”

Great. More people who would assume I was a turncoat. Or that I was dead. Or who knew what else I’d have to face. More expectations. More crap that I was trying to avoid.

I was surprised when ‘my’ two people arrived. Carol? Morgan? What the hell? Carol took one look at me and rushed forward, pulling me from my seat and hugging me to her. I felt myself lean into the comfort she was giving me. And Morgan met my eyes over her shoulder. I didn’t see it. The judgement. The disappointment.

“Jessi,” Carol breathed, pulling back and brushing my hair from my face. “I thought you were-” She pulled me back into another hug. “I thought you gave up, sweetheart. I thought you gave up.”

I felt the burning in my eyes warning of tears and fought them. I shook my head and she released me. “I did too.” I lost the fight, tears brimmed over and were running down my cheeks. “I can’t go back, Carol.” It was a whisper, but she heard me and nodded. She moved away from me and I heard her approach the king.

“Jessi,” Morgan was staring at me, at whatever expression had taken over my face. He shook his head, his eyes tight. “I worried,” he started, moving closer, but not touching me. “I thought that you might have-”

I brushed the wetness from my face. “That I’d traded sides?” I asked, shaking my head at the horrified look he shot me. “No? That seems to be the popular opinion in Alexandria.” I fought to regain my control. “No one understood, I guess.” Feigning a lack of concern was harder when your face was challenging it. “I just can’t-” I shook my head again. Not able to continue my sentence as the feeling of pain took over.

“Jessica Grimes,” King Ezekiel’s voice sounded powerful, but gentle at the same time, a rare talent if I’d ever heard one. “Carol has vouched for you, and so, I welcome you to The Kingdom.”

Carol insisted I come to her house. That I stay with her. And Morgan followed us, letting the two of us walk side by side, letting us have some privacy. It was unnecessary since I was silent during the walk. And Carol, knowing far better than most what I was dealing with, let me have the quiet.

Her house was quaint, on the fringes of the Kingdom, surrounded by the same type of walker warning system I knew from my time at Daryl’s side. Seeing the ring of noise making paraphernalia made my heart clench painfully at the mere thought of him, and I thought I hid it, but Carol’s hand found mine and gave it a squeeze. I’d never escape them, any of them, I realized no matter where I went. Memories would torment me until the day I finally died.

Inside was just as cozy as the exterior, and I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room that was clearly meant to be a living room, unsure of what to do. “Sit, Jessi,” Carol offered, gesturing toward her couch.

I sat, hands clasped in my lap, waiting for it. The interrogation. The questions. The curiosity that was no doubt flowing through her and Morgan. Nothing came. I heard a bit of rattling in another room, and looked up to find that I was alone in the room. No Morgan. No Carol.

I sighed and let myself sink into the sofa. I hadn’t rested since leaving the Sanctuary. I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t be ambushed by walkers or worse humans. I let my eyes shut, for a moment, and when I opened them again, it was dark outside. It took a moment for me to remember where I was, but when I did, I wondered where Carol was.

“I’m right here, Jessi.” Her voice came from my right, and I saw that she was sitting on the other side of the couch. I’d fallen asleep sitting up. “You look exhausted.”

I couldn’t even find the energy to snort. I was exhausted. Completely and totally. “It’s been a long couple of-” I stopped. It seemed like it had been a long couple of years. My entire life was just a long series of pushing forward when I should have been sitting it out, it seemed. I sighed. “Thank you.” I offered.

“Hey,” I turned to look at her. “You don’t have to thank me, Jessi.” She smiled, and I could see the guilt in her eyes. “We really didn’t take care of you, did we?” She asked, studying me far too closely for my comfort.

“I don’t know what you mean, Carol.” I deflected. I ran my hand down my face and nearly laughed. Dear God, had I picked up Negan’s habit? “I’m tired, but I’m fine.”

She shook her head, I saw it from the corner of my eye. “You’re tired, but you’re not fine, Jessi.” I started to speak, but she stopped me. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” I heard her give a bit of a chuckle, but didn’t know what she found funny.

“Everyone seems to think they know me, Carol. What do you see when you look at me?” I asked, wondering if she saw a martyr, a broken woman, or a suicidal mess?

She moved over, close enough to offer comfort if necessary, but still leaving me space. “I see a woman who shouldered every single thing that life and her people threw her way without a single complaint. I see a woman who loved so deeply that people took it for granted. I see a woman who would have taken on everyone else’s loss or sorrow or pain, just to keep them from feeling it. And I see a woman who offered her own damn life in the place of someone else’s because she gave up HOPE and wanted someone who still had it to live.” She took my hand in hers, and squeezed it. “Am I close?”

My tears were falling again, even as I shook my head, trying to deny how right she was. “You all did the best you could.” I was absolving her of any type of guilt she might have had, that they might have had.

“There it is.” She said, drawing my attention to her face. Her smile was sad. “You’re doing it again. You’re trying to make ME feel better about failing YOU.” She shook her head and she brushed my hair out of my face again. “Jessi, we were a family, we ALL should have seen it. We should have seen that you were breaking, but we didn’t. Not a single one of us.” Another shake of her head. “I can’t believe I made you come to defend Rick. I should have seen it.” She meant when all hell broke loose in Alexandria, the day Dad saw a glimpse of it. “So worried about those three questions, but never worried about the real cost.”

I pulled my hand from hers to swipe my tears away. “No one needed to fix me, Carol. Not when we’re constantly fighting everything this world keeps tossing at us.” I stared at a framed print on her wall. “Everyone had their own burdens. No one needed to take on mine.”

“You took on ours.” She reminded me, voice as quiet as mine. “Jesus, Daryl-” She stopped, seeing me flinch at the mention of his name. The thought that she would dare question his motives or his love for me, that the mention of his name would now be forever linked to Negan. To his insistence that I give up Daryl and his memory. “Jessi? Have you seen him?”

My eyes stayed on the painting. “I’ve been back to Alexandria twice since-” I didn’t have to say since when I knew she’d fill in the blanks. “He stared a hole in me the first time. I doubt he noticed me the second.” I was proud of how I sounded like I didn’t care.

“I’ve seen him. And your dad.” She offered, but my eyes were following the lines of the painting. “He misses you, Jessi. He, they love you so much, honey.”

I nodded. I didn’t doubt either assumption. I’m sure they did, or they told themselves they did. That they SHOULD miss me, that they SHOULD still love me. “You aren’t going to try to talk me into going back are you?” I had to know, because if that was something she wanted, then I would leave. I would venture into the unknown. I would become completely isolated before I was forced back.

“No.” She was firm. “I can understand you needing space.” And then it came, a question I should have anticipated, but didn’t. “Negan? Did he force you to-”

“NO.” My tone startled her, I felt her body tense. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” I closed my eyes and turned to face her again. “He isn’t like that.” With me, I added in my head, since I wasn’t sure his wives would tell the same story. “He-” how do I explain it without giving anything too intimate away? “He helped me break free from-”

“You wanted to die.” She said it so matter-of-fact that I knew she understood. “He helped you through that?” I nodded, praying she wouldn’t pry further. “That’s one good thing he’s done.” She sniffed, and I could tell it pained her to even give him that much credit. “I made some stew, would you like some?” A change of topics was welcome, and I nodded again.

Days in the Kingdom were different. I offered to do any job that needed done, bar planning for what was to come between the Saviors and Ezekiel’s people. I had a feeling they wouldn’t have agreed to allow me to join even if I was amiable. There wasn’t the same distrust I’d seen in Alexandria here, but I knew that my last name, and my disinterest in returning to Dad’s side was enough to make some question my purpose in their community.

Laundry duty. I nearly laughed at the irony of being given laundry duty. Once upon a time, I’d become a hunter and tracker just to escape laundry duty.

I didn’t complain or talk much at all while working. Getting lost in the physical aspect of the job, letting muscle memory be retaught to do this rather menial task was a form of escape too. I spent my day washing clothes for the community. Bedding, linens, clothing I washed and hung. I folded the dried batches, and I helped sort with the other workers, who showed me their system.

When I was dismissed, I’d walk back to Carol’s. Usually she was waiting for me, but if she wasn’t, I’d sit on the top step of her porch and look out over the grass. I’d watch it bend in the slight wind. I’d let my mind pretend for a while that I wasn’t hiding and waiting.

Carol would make us dinner. We’d sit in her living room, and she’d try to get me to open up more. Not as antagonistic as Negan, she usually managed to get me to talk a bit before I’d feel she pushed too hard and I’d close down again. ANY criticism toward Dad, Daryl, or anyone I considered family or, in the case of Negan that I felt anything for, was off limits.

And then it happened. I had just come back, with our clean laundry in tow, when Carol told me to sit down. I knew, from her tone, from the way she could hardly look into my eyes, that it was time. That they were going to be heading to the first round of a war that I wanted no part in. And for once, the only time I truly remembered feeling this way, I didn’t want anyone to say goodbye to me before leaving. I didn’t want to see her go. I didn’t want to see Morgan walk away.

I also knew that I’d sit behind in the relative safety of The Kingdom, waiting, and feeling like I was hovering in limbo. And I wondered, whomever came back, what would they find in my place?

[momoyomaki]

Could Five realistically be autistic based solely on what we see on the show?

I stumbled across the theory that Five is autistic, and as someone with autism I find that very interesting. I’m not yet convinced he does have autism, but I’m not convinced he doesn’t either.

So let’s take this apart. :cracks knuckles:

First off, a couple things to keep in mind:

-No two autistic people are exactly the same.

-I am drawing on my own experience living with autism, and what I’ve witnessed from my sister and the kids I work with.

-Disabilities that affect the brain overlap. Many different things can affect the same areas of the brain, and we just categorize things for ease of assigning coping mechanisms. For example, if you were to take a brain scan of my brother who has PTSD, my sister who has brain damage from childhood trauma, and myself with autism, the scans would look very similar.

-Whether or not Five has autism, he most definitely has PTSD.

-Please chime in with your own theories and experiences, I’d love to open this TED talk up.

Ok here we go:

Klaus calls Five addicted to the apocalypse and he’s not wrong. Through an autistic lens, obsessing and hyper-fixating is like our bread and butter. My hyper-fixations have driven me to all sorts of extremes, like staying up for 24 hours, and giving myself heatstroke by hyper-fixating while outside. Whether Five is autistic or not he can obviously relate. His obsession with stopping the apocalypse drives him for 40+ years. He carries an eyeball around the entire time. His fixation on returning to his family keeps him going through his career as a hitman, something he makes clear he didn’t enjoy. On that note, he spent an episode walking around with a goddamn bullet wound. Talk about mind over matter, and also another tick in the hyper-fixation column. Again, when he checks on Klaus after he time travels to the Vietnam War, he’s clearly concerned for him, but gets sidetracked once again by his need to stop the apocalypse. Which is honestly valid, I mean, it’s the apocalypse.

Dolores. Anybody whose seen a decent therapist will probably have been told “yeah I know it sounds crazy, but try talking to yourself.” Being your own sounding board is a very healthy thing believe it or not, and Five uses Dolores for this purpose. Those with autism in my experience have crazy good imaginations. If I try hard enough I can fabricate fake memories to the point where I can’t quite remember it’s not true. I think this has a lot to do with the way autism thinks in pictures. Imaginary friend anyone? So Five finding Dolores and talking with her as if she were real for so long that he actually sees and hears her as a person? Totally believable and something I could see having happened to myself under the right circumstances. That being said, I feel he’s probably perfectly aware that she is, in fact, a mannequin. Dolores can be seen as a sign of Five having snapped or as a brilliant way of keeping his sanity while isolated for decades.

Coffee. Five’s caffeine addiction is probably not related to autism in anyway whatsoever, but boy can I relate. Coffee is my holy grail because it calms my personal blend of brain chemicals down enough for me to focus on things like driving. Of course that’s my ADHD talking. It’s not uncommon for those with autism to also have ADHD, but that’s a whole other post. So let’s just say Five’s relatable and leave it at that.

Sarcasm and Snark. Possibly the most common coping mechanism ever for any problem in existence. Probably just a part of Five’s glorious personality, but let’s say he developed it the way I did. As a way of taking on the world, sarcasm makes everything more bearable. It’s also a form of humor and nothing is as good as humor to cover social missteps. It takes you from being a weird outcast to being the Funny/Sarcastic Friend™️.

Five and routine. The first thing Five does when returning to the past is make his signature sandwich. Here he is, back with his family after all this time, and he doesn’t allow himself to bask in that, because the count down to the apocalypse has started. There’s no way he isn’t thrown off though, come on. 13 years old again with his family alive. When feeling shaken, most people with autism will absolutely fall back into routines even if they’re old ones. And who wants to bet he drove past at least one other perfectly serviceable shop with coffee on his way to Griddy’s and ignored them in favour of familiarity? And of course he works to get Dolores back right off the bat. When upset over the lab getting blown up he returns to what we can assume was home during the apocalypse; the library.

Five and his ability to take people at face value despite his overactive paranoia. From my experience working with those with autism, autistic people are some of the most forgiving people you will ever meet. This doesn’t have to come from a place of kindness. It’s more our black and white nature. Something used to be this way, and now it’s that way. We tend to just accept it where others might have a million questions. This goes hand in hand with our people sense. Oh we suck at reading social cues, but our instincts in regards to a persons trustworthiness are generally bang on. You see this in Five’s chat with Hazel. He doesn’t seem to have a problem buying what Hazel’s selling. Same with Klaus, who he acknowledges more then his other siblings even if it’s in a snarky manner. (He didn’t shoot Klaus down when he talked about conjuring their dad unlike Luther, and despite his angry reaction he took Klaus’ point about being addicted to the apocalypse seriously.) He gets angry when Vanya doesn’t believe him about the apocalypse but when it becomes clear that her disbelief is not malicious he doesn’t take it out on her. In contrast he doesn’t buy the Handler’s bullshit. To sum it up, Five is a practical people person, with good instincts but an outdated copy of Social Cues for Dummies. Is this autism or an effect of 40+ years alone? Both?

Five, the pragmatist. As the Handler says, Five is a first rate pragmatist which fits how a lot of those on the spectrum are very blunt, black and white thinkers. Where my family can debate politics for hours, my opinion is always the straightest path to whatever outcome I’m arguing for.

Five and clothes. Those on the spectrum tend to be hypersensitive, and clothing can be a Thing™️ for us. Certain materials feel like they're made of needles as opposed to just itchy, jeans are too tight, turtlenecks feel like a noose, etc. This is common, but sometimes it’s less about comfy sweatpants and more about familiarity. I have an undercut and if I don’t have time to get it shaved at the usual point, I get panicky. My hair feels slightly different, it looks slightly different, and it all just doesn't feel right. Five grew up wearing the academy uniform, and while he didn’t have the luxury of a suit and tie in the apocalypse, wearing a suit was clearly important to him during his time with the Commission. Even the Handler took notice, and gifted him a suit. And the second thing he does after making a sandwich in the past is find a suit that fits him. Ok, he didn’t have any options, but he didn’t have to wear the whole outfit. He could have mixed and matched. He could have stolen something from the department store. But no, he’s got to wear a suit jacket and tie. He even grabbed his tie off the guy he strangled at Griddy’s before he took care of the last dude. (Badass power move btw.) So I find it believable that the uniform was partially about appearances and partially about Five’s comfort zone, physically speaking.

(But wait, I hear you say, how can you throw in hypersensitivity when back up this post you claimed Five could have ignored his bullet wound via hyper-fixation? Here’s the thing, hyper-fixation basically mutes the notifications our bodies send us. We can be uncontrollably hypersensitive and still not clue into our bodies screaming at us while we fixate on something. But boy, we sure notice when we snap out of it.)

Five is all or nothing, ride or die. Oh boy is he ever. And most autistic people are too. We put our all into everything we do. Doesn’t always translate to doing it well, but we definitely give it our all. (In fact, we tend to over do things and need some serious recouping time after.) This can cover things already in the hyper-fixation section, like his obsession with the apocalypse. But going all in for something is different from the magnetic pull of hyper-fixation. It’s a conscious decision for one thing. The biggest example for Five is his commitment to his family. The Hargreeves are a dysfunctional family, and Five didn’t escape this by jumping to the future. He’s hardly the perfect brother but he’s the most invested in his siblings nonetheless. He became a killer for them, threw morals out the window for the slim chance he might be able to save them. And as is established pretty quickly, he put his all into being a hitman, becoming the best there ever was. That fight scene in the diner speaks for itself. And slicing up his own arm to get at the tracker? Well, it’s pretty clear that when Five commits to something he doesn’t mess around.

Five and math. Here we hit a stereotype about autistic people and their ‘special interests.’ Yeah, it’s really common, but what most people don’t know is that the majority of those on the spectrum are not math geniuses, or geniuses of any other kind. My sister’s ‘special interest’ is still relatively useful, being science, but she’s not a genius. Mine is ‘stories.’ Books, movies, theatre, music, etc. I can devour fiction forever. It’s basically useless to society though, because I’m picky af. But okay, Five fits the stereotype and is a math genius, or at least where it applies to time travel. We see this in the flashback already. Ok, time travelling didn’t work out as he’d hoped, but he managed it at 13 when even Reginald didn’t think he could. This makes me think that his tendency to spend hours working out equations didn’t start in the apocalypse.

Does Five stim? If so, we don’t really see it. That doesn’t rule out autism though, because, well, it’s a spectrum. I only stimmed as a toddler. Some people don’t stim at all.

Vanya. Another theory I’ve seen thrown around is that Vanya is autistic. I’m not going to address that here, but I do want to say that if she is, that wouldn't affect whether or not Five is autistic. Autism is not personality after all, and they are very different people. Again, autism is a spectrum and nobody displays all the same traits. If you’re thinking it would be unrealistic for Reginald. To have adopted two kids with autism, think again. That one autistic sister of mine? Adopted as a baby before we had any idea that she was a mini me.

Five doesn’t appear obviously autistic. What most people don’t realize is that autism is at the end of the day an invisible disability. Most people will know someone at some point on the spectrum and never even realize it. Because sure, sometimes you’ll see us rocking under the table or otherwise displaying what movies have stereotyped as autistic behaviour, but most of the time you won’t notice. We’re the slightly overly bright cashier at Walmart, the quiet bookworm at school, your favourite author that writes emotions so well, the person at comic con who can recite their favourite movie line for line, that kid that gets along best with those older or younger then them. If Five is autistic we may never know, because he’s perfectly functional, but that's hardly and argument against autism either.

And finally; people relate. Nobody knows autism better then those with autism themselves, so I’m inclined to take all the posts I’ve seen about Autistic!Five as a pretty big point on the autism column.

To summarize; none of these points taken alone indicate autism, but together well.... it’s an option at least.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, I will now open the stage to audience input before this monster grows any longer.

[kaesaaurelia]

oh hey how about Alphys and Sans' chat in your "When Life Hands You Enantiomers" fic for that fic meta ask?

OH MAN so this was my first Undertale fic ever!  I originally started noodling around with writing Sans and Alphys genfic for Yuletide, the small fandom exchange that happens every Christmas – at the time of nominations, Undertale was still a small fandom! and I got into it during the writing period, so I hadn’t thought to ask for or offer it.

I’d wanted to write a treat, but I ended up looking at all the Undertale requests and none of them quite were what I wanted to write, which was mostly chemistry puns and friendship.  So I wrote it, figured I might gift it to someone if it happened to suit their letter, and… it didn’t, really?  I figured I’d just post it.

Anyway, that’s the fic background.  Onward!

“You look like you need a break,” he said, decisively, going past her into the lab.  He paused at her desk, evidently looking for somewhere to put the box of donuts and finding nothing but her vast mountains of clutter.  "I like what you’ve done with the place,“ he said finally.

Basically this was my dad’s reaction to my first apartment every time I tried to show him how clever I’d been making furniture out of cardboard boxes.  Eventually I got sick of responding with “oh fuck off” and made him drive me to Ikea to get a desk.

“It’s, uh.  S-sorry, it’s kind of a mess.  I’m just really busy with – with Royal Scientist stuff?” she finished hopefully.  "You – you know how it is, I g-guess.“

"Yeah,” he said, tonelessly.

and this is the start of me not being able to decide whether or not Alphys remembers that Sans used to work with Gaster in some capacity in this fic!  I think I eventually decided it comes and it goes.  I like to keep things ambiguous on the topic of What The Fuck Is Even Up With Sans??? in my non-AU Undertale fics – I find the ambiguity interesting, I like that everyone has their own theories, and other people have covered that ground better and more thoroughly than I will.

“Anyway,” he said, a lot more brightly, “let’s relax and have some donuts.”  He pulled a picnic blanket from literally nowhere and spread it out on the floor of the lab.

So one of the things I appreciate about writing from Alphys’ POV is that it feels completely tonally appropriate to have her say she facepalmed, or use the phrase “literally nowhere,” and other diction I guess I associate more with informal internet communication.

“Does, uh.  Does Muffet know you made off with all her donuts?” Alphys asked.

“Eh,” said Sans, waving a hand dismissively.

Again, I really like leaving Sans’ bullshit ambiguous, and kind of shady.

“So.  You still working on that horrible tile puzzle?”

“It’s.  …yeah!  It’s going really well.  It's….”  She sighed.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Sans asked.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“You know you don’t have to do it, right?” he said.  "I mean… Papyrus knows you must be really busy, he’s not gonna be upset.  Plus, I have to say, I’m not real excited about fishing him out of the middle of it if he gets stuck on a puzzle.“

I like how Sans assumes Alphys’ real concern is letting Papyrus down.

"Ha,” she said, joylessly.  "F-funny you should mention the, uh, fishing.“

To her horror, he took this entirely the wrong way.  "Aw, come on, Undyne’s not gonna hold it against you either,” he said.

“N-no, that’s, that’s n-n-not what I –”  Words failed her and she just buried her face in her hands for a moment.

“Although, now that I mention it, Undyne did seem kinda worried about you,” he said.  "You’re not answering your phone, or something?  She said maybe you were mad at her.“

"Oh no,” said Alphys, diving for her phone.  Those four texts.  "Augh, I am the worst kind of trash, I’m a terrible friend, I c-can’t do anything right!“ she moaned.

Oh god.  Please tell me I’m not the only person who leaves texts unread because what if I forget to respond to them when the notification is gone? and then don’t ever look at them out of crushing guilt and anxiety, until people start to worry.  Please.

(Another note on diction: I actually really, really don’t like it when people call themselves “trash.”  I grew up unironically – and really shittily – using the phrase “white trash” to describe certain cousins of mine, and it’s too loaded down with those classist connotations for me to read it as just harmless self-deprecation.  This may just be because I am An Old, though.  Anyway, Alphys uses it – and it’s definitely how she actually thinks of herself – so I kind of gritted my teeth and used it too.)

Sans was managing to make a perma-grin look dismayed.

I have to say, I was impressed with the unhappy-smiling Sans sprites in the game!  I try not to ever describe Sans as frowning, but probably something’s slipped through at some point in the vrillion words of fic I’ve written.

She brought up the texts, ignoring him for the moment.

hey, was wondering if you wanna do a human history movie night with me and Pap tomorrow???

Then the next day:

super last minute, sorry.  watched Cooking w/Killer Robot marathon.  maybe next week? something w/giant swords??? YEAH!!!!!

And then:

Is everything ok?  Miss you.

And finally:

Did I do something wrong?

"Oh no,” she moaned.

“That bad, huh,” he said, sympathetically.

“Oh nooo,” she repeated.  "Oh no, oh no, now she probably thinks I’m terrible and –“

"Alphys.  Wow.  Relax,” said Sans.  "I came over to check on you and make sure you hadn’t been, I don’t know, eaten by lab rats or something.“

Sometime I really need to write the companion piece to this, where Papyrus and Undyne come up with this terrible idea for a puzzle.  And I have to work in a scene where Undyne is worried about Alphys and goes from dashing off carefully carefree-seeming texts to VERY CAREFULLY PUNCTUATED TEXTS BECAUSE WHAT IF ALPHYS THINKS SHE’S A BIG DUMB LUNK??? but it never occurs to her that Alphys might be anxious about replying to her.

"Eaten?!?” she asked.  Did he… did he know?  Augh, when had she last fed the amalgamates, anyway?  Two days ago, maybe?  Ugh, that was too long, they were going to be all grumpy when she went downstairs next.  She tried to keep breathing and not panic.

He held up his hands to pacify her.  "Hey.  Hey.  I don’t know why but everything I say’s making you panic.“  He nudged the box towards her.  "Look, have a donut.  Everything’s better with donuts.  It’ll make you feel hole again.”

Hole puns are the hole reason I included donuts in this fic.

Alphys winced despite herself, then sighed.  "Okay, yeah.  Sorry.  I’m.  It’s – it’s been a hard few days.“

"Yeah?” he asked.

She nibbled at the donut half-heartedly.  "So uh.  You mentioned the tile puzzle thing?  I’m having trouble with the piranhas.“

Sans snorted.  "I’m sorry, just  – there are piranhas?  Why are there piranhas?”

“They were in the specs Undyne gave me!” Alphys said, trying not to get defensive.

“Sounds very fishy to me,” said Sans.  "Anyway, why not just make robot piranhas?  I mean, that’s your forte, isn’t it?“

man, Alphys hasn’t told Sans about anything in this fic, and he apparently doesn’t tell her about anything either.  I like how they’re friends who lie their faces off to each other on the regular.

Oh god, robot piranhas would be about ten times worse.  "It’s not making the actual piranhas, as such,” said Alphys.  "It’s getting them to distinguish between lemon scent and orange scent.  Because, see, the request was to make sure they go after anyone who smells like oranges but be repelled by anyone who smells like lemons.“

Sans stared for a moment, and then, to her dismay, started laughing.  "What?  What?  You’re serious.  Oh man, I bet Papyrus came up with that one.  He’s – he’s pretty picky about his cleaning products, I guess that little difference is important to him.”  His grin widened a little.  "Papyrus is so great at those little details, you know?“

He’s laughing, but this praise of his brother is totally in earnest.  Sans may be the one who pays the bills, but I’m pretty sure Papyrus is the only reason their house isn’t disgusting.

"Sans, this isn’t f-funny!” said Alphys.  "Have you ever tried to train killer fish to distinguish between d-limonene and l-limonene when all they care about is smelling blood?!?  Because I have!“

"Yeah, that sounds like one l of a problem,” said Sans.  "A terrible knot you have to d-tangle.  Orange you glad I stopped by?“

"Sans,” said Alphys, beginning to lose patience.

There are several naming conventions for enantiomers, and originally this was S-limonine and R-limonine, with corresponding puns (I forget what they were, I just remember it was a pain in the ass coming up with new puns) but I think I googled and the d- and l- notation was more popular for limonene.

Like I’ve said elsewhere, this whole fic was largely an excuse for chemistry puns.

“It sounds like you need this problem like a fish needs a by… cyclohexane!  Lemon know if you think of anything I can do to help.”

“Sans,” she said.  It was starting to become more of a whine.

“Citrus me, I got this.  I don’t rind helping you at all,” he said, because he was a merciless bag of bones.

She glowered at him.  Then she took the box of donuts away from him.

CAN YOU BLAME HER THOUGH.

“Hey!  I was eating those!” he protested.

“Tough,” she said.  When he leaned over to try and reach them, she harrumphed and stood up.  Getting to his feet was apparently too much for Sans, because after one last halfhearted sitting lunge, he gave up and sat serenely on the picnic blanket.

Alphys carefully balanced the box of donuts on top of a stack of papers on her desk, then slid an empty mug underneath it for added support.

If you have never done this with a stack of papers, ….I envy your tidiness.  And if you’ve never done that dumbass thing where you try to lunge for a thing just out of your reach and then try to spontaneously develop telekinesis to bring it over to you… you’re fucking lying.

With a few keystrokes, she brought her computer out of sleep mode and was drawing up her data on the piranhas.  "I’m not really sure h-how you can help?“ she said.  "I-I mean, if you can it’d be great, obviously, b-but… don’t you do, uh, physics?”  Her memories were kind of fuzzy on this.  Why did she know Sans again?  When had she met him?  It wasn’t that important, was it?  Everyone knew Sans.

AND AGAIN, I can’t decide what Alphys knows about Sans in this fic.

“Yeah, but, everything’s physics in the end, right?” Sans said, a shrug in his voice.

She finished her donut before saying, wryly, “That’s what physicists tell themselves.  I g-guess if it helps you sleep at night…”

For whatever reason I was fortunate not to hear this much from the physics majors in school.  (The math majors, on the other hand….)  But I’ve seen them do it a lot on the internet and so I have to admit I’m kind of fond of writing chemists and biologists being dismissive about it.

“I sleep all the time,” Sans said cheerfully.  She wondered if he was ever going to get up and come over here eventually.

“Undyne has mentioned,” she said.  "So, uh, w-what exactly do you think is so physics-y here?“

"Well.  It’s not so much the physics, I guess,” he said.  "It’s just that I’m really good at cheating.“

She reached absently for another donut, opening the box without looking at it and reaching inside.  Her claws closed on something rubbery, and before she could stop, it was making a ridiculous farting noise.

She pulled the whoopee cushion out of the box, and turned to look at Sans.  He hadn’t moved an inch from where she’d left him, and was snacking on a donut he definitely hadn’t had before.

She sighed.  "Y-yeah, I can see that.”

I think at this point I’d seen a lot of Sans-being-badass art, and kind of wanted someone to react to him with an eyeroll.  Not that I don’t think Sans isn’t badass!  Just, you gotta have that one friend who will call you on your bullshit.

She turned back to her computer screen and skimmed the data she had on her attempts at training the piranhas.  Ugh.  No statistically significant difference between any of the training methods she’d attempted and the control groups.

Sometimes she wished science worked more like it was presented in fiction: less waiting around for something to happen, more moments of genius and day-saving.  On the other hand, as it turned out, horrific abominations of science were a real thing.  Who knew?

notice how I carefully avoid references to specific anime!  because I’d pretty much only watched Ouran High School Host Club in full!  I think I remember double-checking with @thinkatoryprocess that horrific abominations of science was a thing in anime?

I have since learned many things about Fullmetal Alchemist, and in particular why I wasn’t supposed to watch it just after my dog had died.

“So, h-how exactly were you thinking of cheating?”  Her mind wandered to some of those weird diagrams she’d come across deep in the lab files, presumably belonging to the previous Royal Scientist.  "Are you thinking, um, t-time travel?  Because if I could find some way to breed selectively for citrus recognition they could evolve to–“

MY THIRD INSTANCE of “what the fuck does Alphys even know?  why bother making it consistent?”

"No,” said Sans, and she leaped back with a squeak of shock, because suddenly he was standing right next to her and he was speaking in a freaky hollow voice, and also the light in his eyes had gone totally dark and, and, what the fuck, Sans?!?  "…Heh, sorry,“ he said, and the little glowing dots returned, and the grin looked more natural.  "Just.  Trust me.  Time travel, not a good idea.”

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she kind of had to.  "…Why?“

"Time flies,” said Sans.  When she frowned at him, he added, “They’re even more annoying than fruit flies.  And they get stuck in your teeth if you go faster than light.  It’s a real problem.”

Okay, yeah, she wasn’t gonna get a straight answer out of a guy who wore bedroom slippers everywhere he teleported.  Fair enough.

This last sentence is still one of my favorite summations of Sans as a character.

“Out of curiosity,” he said, “why didn’t you make robot piranhas?”

“Ugh,” she said.  "You know, I thought about it?  B-but then I’d have to invent the scent organs and I’m n-not sure I’m up to it.“  She wasn’t up to a lot of things, honestly.  She wasn’t sure why Asgore hadn’t noticed.  Or Undyne.  She was really surprised Sans hadn’t noticed, though.  He was weirdly observant.

So I did like no research on robots for this.  IIRC machines that do something similar to smelling are a thing, but I have no idea how they work.

"Nah,” said Sans.  "Just think lazy!“

A favorite motto of my boss, weirdly enough.

"But I don’t want to leave the piranhas out!  Then Undyne and your b-brother will be d-disappointed and I won’t be the ‘g-great Dr. Alphys’ anymore, I’ll just be a f-fraud.  They s-specifically requested piranhas!”

“So give ‘em piranhas,” said Sans.  "But play to your strengths.“

"I d-don’t know that I have any strengths,” she pointed out.

“Sure you do.  I mean, right now you’ve only been using biology.  Maybe you wanna get down to the nuts and bolts of the matter.  You made Mettaton, right?” he said.  She tried not to wince.  "And if you can make that guy a star, you’ve gotta be good.  Plus, I can’t help but notice you’re, uh, pretty good with optics.“

She blushed.  "The c-cameras?  They’re for – uh, for scientific observation?” she said.

“Riiight,” said Sans.  "I know what you’re up to.  You just wanna steal all my best knock-knock jokes, don’t you?“

"There’s no s-sound!” she insisted, but Sans was chuckling.  "…is that what you do at the door all day?“ she asked, frowning.  "I just thought you were, uh.  T-testing the structural integrity of the door.  And… talking to someone?”

“Nah,” said Sans.  "Who would I be talking to?“

"On the other side of the d-door?” she suggested.

both of these people, liars.  I’m not sure Sans will be wholly surprised to find out Alphys didn’t make Mettaton, but the robot body’s still pretty damn impressive.  And in the true pacifist ending Alphys didn’t seem real surprised there was someone behind that door.

He shrugged.  "Anyway.  Just some suggestions.  But if you wanna give up… hey, I can’t blame ya.  Papyrus will recover from his disappointment.  Undyne probably knew it was a crazy idea in the first place.“  He reached around her to grab another donut.  "Anyway, I gotta go on my lunch break before she finds out I’m slacking off here.  Text her back, though, she seemed pretty worried.  And try to do it before she and my bro burn the house down with her stress-spaghetti-ing?”

And obviously when all else fails, Sans’ go-to solutions are 1. taking a break, and 2. giving up.  Not always in that order.

“Thanks,” said Alphys, half-heartedly.  She turned to ask another question, but found she was sitting in an empty room.  "…I think.  …well, hey, at least I have donuts.“

Having donuts means she’s definitely better off than where she was at the beginning of the fic!  Also I appreciate Sans having the ability to just vanish, because for whatever reason describing people walking to the door and saying “goodbye” is really boring to me and always trips me up.

[againjack]

Transitioning

Tuesday was hilarious to me. He kept calling me. On the drive to work. Driving to/from a client. Driving home. After walking the dog. And I loved it. I love how we have so much to talk about and just want to connect somehow even when we aren’t physically together. 

Wednesday my brother was in town for a work training, so we met him for dinner. It was good and interesting. The funniest moment was Bob and I talking about something and Colby shook his head and laughed. I turned to him to ask, “What?” He just responded, “Siblings.” I still need to get more from him on that. 

On the way to dinner Colby and I chatted about a bunch of wedding detail stuff. He is already overwhelmed. He said he has been through all the stages and come to accept that all this is moving on and in progress despite him not doing his thing. He asked me to stop talking about it, so I did for the rest of the night.

I wanted his thoughts about when to do things and how to go about all the transitions we have planned. Because one friend of mine called Colby a con man and another concerned because of her own past... He refuses to give input. He said that selling my house is all on me.He doesn’t want to feed into any of that negativity. He did say, when I suggested packing and moving some things to his place, that my place has more storage. He also seems to think that we should keep it until after the holidays for my mom to visit, since right now she is saying she won’t at all if she can’t have a fenced in yard for her dog. *eye roll* 

My point is that my house will be aimed towards families - and they buy/move in the summer, not school year. And the longer a place sits the less one gets for it. But selling it gives us both what I could make in profit as well as frees up $1500 a month for me, minus whatever storage would cost. That and frankly, we need a portion of those profits to pay for the wedding. I don’t expect anything from my family, and he hasn’t asked his yet. He counters that we need the profits as a down payment. Well, IF we get all the profit I suspect, all of it would be needed for 20% down on the sized house we want. And we aren’t expecting any profit on his place because of his home equity loan. 

Colby reviewed the photographer contract and had questions. He said he would reach out to them with some questions he had. That was after I asked him to, so that I wasn’t the middleman. I don’t know if he has or not. We have until the end of this weekend before the hold on our date and the special price I negotiated. Edit: He hasn’t done anything and assumed I was going to give him contact information - I did but it wasn’t in email so he didn’t realize it. We discussed in on our call while he was driving home today that since he had so many concerns it was easier to pass on them.

He has his heart set on a particular bakery for the cake. I called but they haven’t returned my messages. He says he knows it will cost an arm and leg, but the decorativeness and having someone deliver it is worth it to him. There is a Publix less than 5 minutes away from shul and that is one thing a coordinator would do - pick it up and deliver it. I’ve been reaching out to get quotes from other bakeries too, so that he can see the range of options and cost. M joked when I shared that one place wants $4.50/slice if they gave you a kiss and cigarette after that. 

I’m not sure when it started happening. When I first started sleeping over his house, he clung to the edge of the bed. After a few months he slept on his back mostly spending some time on his side facing away from me. At least he moved to the middle of his side of the bed. In the last few weeks he spends most of the night on his stomach or on his side facing me as close to the middle as he can without smushing into the foam topper. He even reaches out his hand towards me in his sleep. It’s been an interesting evolution to watch. If he could, he would have me move in completely tomorrow. 

His mom has been sending me recipes and stuff to help out with for Pesach. I’m finding myself getting my hopes up again that with the holiday and family together that he might do something then. He now knows that it is something I’ve half hoped for/expected. I know he is going to talk about guests with his mom then. 

While writing this he called on his way home. Aside from various things about our days and work, as well as upcoming plans, he gave me a talking to about how my asking him to go over contracts and go speak to people is pushing him in a direction of the engagement being meaningless. I get where he is coming from. But if he wants to have a wedding and both our houses sold and settled into a new place all within the next 18 months (or less), with the sale of his place and purchase of the new place AFTER the wedding... He is dragging his feet. And causing me more work and stress. 

That was one thing I said to him last night. Selling a house is stressful. Moving is stressful. Planning a wedding is stressful. How much stress does he want me to take on? Does he want to take care of me when I break? Does he want to take on that much stress?

I’ve already done an initial sweep of the house. I’ve got my old plates (from college) and bed ready to donate to a refugee family from Burma (through shul), and my china and most crystal out ready to be packaged up to consign. I’ve been collecting boxes and mentally planning what to pack up, when, and where to put the boxes. 

It’s funny, Tuesday night on one of our many conversations, was about specific things. He wanted to do a glass blowing class with me. I had to ask about the things I did the last time I had that class... with Jamaica. He said past boyfriends don’t matter to him, just stuff/ties to the exhusband. He doesn’t get how some of them mean as much. He joked that if he asked I get rid of things tied to my past it would get rid of everything. That isn’t true. But it does help draw a line on certain things. 

I’m reassessing... how to bring better balance and reduce stress.

[oddlymysteriousphoenix]

#45 1:04am January 8

Wow, the new year, so soon? Well, then, Happy New Year. Between the last time I actually wrote on my computer which was on December 6th, obvious changes have occurred, with some extent, a surprise. Last year, school was always a pain as that's what I believe it is meant for also too a waste of time. I managed to pass all the midterms, which is no shock, the only shock there has been was the change in my friendships with certain people. Alyssa, for example, I understand why although I am still conflicted on her disappearance. On the Christmas break, she was vacant from anything we tried to talk about, knowing she was acting different I asked about it and she didn't tell me. Soon after the new year arrived, she told me that she still saw me as my heart belonged to Rose and Alyssa claims to still be on love with me without any choice. It was hurting her, putting her in agony as it seemed and there was nothing I could do, but to feel guilty. Up to this day, she's just been gone and I do miss her. She was still close to me even after the break up and we still had cherished memories of each other. She also added in she was being distant with others and struggling with her false thoughts stuck within her mind, I am concerned for her of course. I wonder where she is, I wonder what she's doing, knowing her I know she can do regrettable things. I wish her the best and hope we could talk at least one more time before she's most likely gone from my life. It'll make her happy, right? The one who Alyssa thinks I'm still sobbing over, Rose, her and I haven't spoken too well from the past weeks, I guess you can say some things will always remain the same, I fear that. It only appears her boyfriend makes her happy and nothing else from her posts, other posts are her saying she doesn't get to have enough time with him or being done with life, in a way. Though on the barley bright side, I will be sending her a bowl I made from pottery class of her choice and a drawing that was meant for her when we were to meet up in person. I wasn't able to finish it by then, but she forgot hers so I thought it was best to leave mine as well. So, she will be receiving the bowl and drawing. Funny thing is when the new year came around, I was more torn up about myself over Rose, then I came to realize that I should just give up, not all of it, but just rest and feel the pain I always get from seeing her or when she doesn't reply to my texts. Either way or just one way, I'm still confessing if I do get the opportunity, I will do my best attempt. I am still content on being with my dad over the resting period, I miss him. In a short summary, we saw movies, finished Breaking Bad, ate some Greek food in a Greek restaurant we both love the gyros platter we order it all the time, we also went out to eat at this nearby Chinese buffet and get our fortune cookies, I enjoy reading them as they give me a false sense of hope I like to believe in. Dad and I also went to the mall, one nearby and another one in some downtown with where a ton of rich people shop as it seems, we went there a day or two before Christmas (I think) and it was packed, we weren't able to get in as all the parking was taken up. All together, I loved it as always, even though I can't be fully myself around him, doesn't mean I can't enjoy being with him. Sad thing was that it was usually warm or barely cold when I was there, just today he told me that it was snowing and such, whenever I go it never snows even though Im still in my state of lacking mercy blizzard. Oh well, I managed to get some gifts on Christmas day although I initially stated of not wanting to get anything as nothing I actually wanted can be bought with money, only actions. That changed, I managed to get new songs from Rocksmith including most of the Green Day songs from there and I managed to get Overwatch, I do enjoy the game and to my surprised managed to game with Dj and Chocolate. We had fun, obviously. Been awhile since I've actually chatted to both of them, we barely do nowadays. I still respect them. Erin, my first ex, has came into more in my life as she managed to get on Xbox One as she got a new one with the cheapest mic out there. We talked and she said more of her removed tumor, we did text before the meet up, though I am not attracted to her anymore before I heard her voice again back when I first met her, she has been doing well recently, I knew that'd be better without me although she rejects such a claim. The next day or after so, her mic broke, though we havent chatted much after talking. She did meet up with Chocolate, before so she talked to Dj when I was just getting home from watching Rouge One, a decent movie. Despite being at a loss most of the time last year, I have no hopes in anything actually improving, I'm still the same unfortunate kid who keeps being told I deserve better while it only progresses into an unseen coffin. On the small bright side, I've been talking to this Canadian sweet girl named Molly. We met on Omegle ages ago, surely before this past summer I know that, though we recently started and she seemed very trusting as well as supportive in my improvement of life. We've been talking everyday and I do enjoy her presence, I wonder what she thinks of me. Since I'll be traveling up north I thought it was best to tell her I'll be going to Niagara Falls and we could meet up there, she instantly agreed. I hope I don't lose her, actually seems like a good person that I don't want to lose unlike some others (hopefully Alyssa doesn't leave forever) who all have their own reasons such as having none or being for the best of both of us which I believe is complete nonsense, but nonsense is what goes around in the world everyday. As I came back to Florida, I was given this repulsing vibe of hopelessness and deprived of happiness, what joy it is to be back here, what a joy to be back ''home'' in this city with no name.

-2:13am