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yeehawbvby · 10 months ago

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though.

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay.

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down.

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?”

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground…

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit.

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing.

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?”

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.”

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady.

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty.

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world.

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed.

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!”

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.”

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!”

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps.

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.”

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly.

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid?

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.”

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy.

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 year ago

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Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ��scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #male ocs #original character

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yepmadness · 4 months ago

Text

Malevolent Part 44

Spoilers under cut :))

Just my thoughts I wrote down while I listened

Oh…oh. He’s no longer being called “the entity” in the episode description. He’s his own person. He’s like—he found himself in that. He knows who he is now. Fully. He is himself, who he wants to be. I haven’t even listened yet and I’m going to sob.

Honestly mostly thought calling him “the entity” was a thing for any new listeners. So they didn’t get spoiled about the name and all that. But always thought it was kinda odd considering he’s called John so early on.

But it was an intentional choice. He’s *John* now. Wholly. And fully. And he believes that too and so it shows.

God I’m so attached to this mf.

The singing is lovely actually. Have no idea what the fuck is going on through. Song seems fitting lol.

BLOOD AND SAND WOOO

“Where am I?” yeah I wanna know too dude.

I like this waiter :))

Oh we going back. Sorry Arthur. We know where this goes.

“I’ll take care of you,” and what if I sob then, hm?

No I’m with John on this one let’s just take a week I don’t care if it’s in the fucking worm womb. We got a bed.

I LOVE YORRICK. Anyone who tells me I shouldn’t is wrong.

Oooh. Arthur doesn’t remember. Hm hm. Fun.

“Not when, if”

John…buddy. Arthur’s human :(( also don’t like the constant death foreshadowing lately guys. I know he just died but I really need Arthur not to die at the end of all of this please.

Arthur don’t word shit like that stay alive for you, you bastard.

LMAO, Yorrick is so fucking silly. The dark world will embrace you :D.

FUCKING FINALLY ARMOR. LESS CHANCE OF GETTING STABBED WOOO. Hopefully this breastplate goes relatively low because we get stabbed in the gut a lot.

Oh no we are being depressing about Faroe again :(. Arthur has suffered so much im so sorry my guy. John is being so sweet about it I love him.

NOOO YORRICK LET THEM HAVE THEIR SILLY MANTRA

I love our new trio sooo much.

Arthur was totally looking to be called “someone not to fuck with” again when he put that armor on lol.

Arthur :(( read the letter. I’m begging you. It’s gonna get destroyed and then we will ALL be sad about it.

“We have six more bullets” John i love you but that will not help.

The ringing when Arthur starts to like, talk, is interesting. Wonder if it’s just because he’s remembering being stabbed..or?? Either way interesting to me.

OH WAIT JOHN DID TELL HIM??? IM SURPRSED???

WAIT FUCK ARE WE BEING SWEET??

“And you know I love you too. And that I couldn’t do this without you.”

Im am going to sob I love them so so so much. They’re my guys ;-;

HE FOUGHT FOR WHO HE IS SO HARD.

AHHH

emotional moment over and I’m devastated.

No we are not sending Arthur into nasty ass water with his wound??? No???

Im with John, how about no??

Mmm. Yorrick is being weird. Once again reminded of the whole, don’t trust vanguards. But like…he’s a silly guy.

The background music tells me this is a bad idea guys. Let’s not drown. We have had enough of that.

YORRICK UNDER THE WATER HA

You think dying would have made them make better choices but noooo.

John are you like…guilty about killing her? Haunted by it? He sounds kinda…upset :(.

ARTHUR WHAT DID I JUST SAY.

“YESS OORTHUR”

THEYRE SO HAPPY YES. LAUGH. JOY. (Yorrick has no fuckibg idea why we are laughing love him)

Lmao Arthur I think if you didn’t let John help he would have strangled you. Stop getting injured.

Aw Arthur not letting John apologize, it’s not his fault aaaah.

Yeah Yorrick is planning smth but I love him too much to hate him for whatever his evil plans are.

“You’ll see.” Cryptic bitch.

ALEXANDER!!!

“Owl don’t eat people, boys” I LOVE THIS.

This is too soft I’m so happy.

“Somebody knows your order.” Uh huh. Someone we know hmm. A certain guy I want to meet. Eventually? I can hope.

————————>

Yeah I fucking loved this episode. Easily one of my favorites. EASILY. it was just so sweet. And silly. I love these guys so much.

#malevolent #my thoughts #malevolent meta but kinda and not really I’m just talking #malevolent part 44 #malevolent 44 #malevolent podcast #ramblings #i love this podcast sooo much #they are my favorite

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doginasillyhat · 14 days ago

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just found out that omo is specifically wetting things and not general piss 😭😭😭😭

hopefully it isn't weird to ask if u have any other piss related interests/ideas ?????? i am occasionally haunted by the fantasy of being pissed on but im also never going to be ready to unpack that lmao

idr if you've mentioned before or not but do u have any thoughts about/plans for combined kink content? like omo-hic crossover or do u see them separately (idk words)

OMG an excuse to talk about piss! yay!!! i’m gonna talk about pee and also hics so if u come across this from one or the other and u don’t wanna hear abt it im sorry just scroll ❤️

anyway. i love humiliation and embarrassment. that’s really the root of my enjoyment for both kinks. i don’t talk about omo here as much as i do hiccups because the omo community is much larger and thus intimidating, but it’s actually my number 1.

because i enjoy seeing someone else in the situation i don’t find enjoyment in my own piss, like holding or wetting or anything, but someone else doing those?? AWOOGA!!! wetting oneself is probably my favourite ever (whether that be accidentally or because of holding). favourite scenarios definitely include struggling to hold one’s bladder in a public setting. someone also being turned on by their OWN holding or wetting are also so hot in a, like, voyeuristic way. i don’t think i’d ever get myself into a situation like this, but god i’d go nuts over someone letting me piss on them.

the idea of being in control of someone’s bladder, telling someone when and where they can go? oh god that’s so hot and not something i should be thinking about on a public train lest i get so horny i lose consciousness

i can go more into depth into my piss fantasising, and maybe i will when im not travelling in public

most of all i tend to keep hics and piss separate? not because i intended that but just because in my mind i compartmentalise it for some reason. i do have a few concepts for hiccups leading to wetting oneself? drinking too much -> getting hiccups -> too much liquid in the bladder so you piss yourself. something like that cause and effect. or i’d like to write something really self indulgent of characters with the complimentary kinks (a likes piss and b has just wet themself, b likes hiccups and a is currently afflicted) but i don’t know if i could write something THAT stimulating for myself without needing a vibrator break or just getting so flustered i can’t finish it 💀

i do have ideas though! now that classes have been abandoned for the year i have more free time to do writing. and im excited to write some more for both!

kinda rambled i hope i actually answered what u were asking lmao

#minors dni #minors do not interact #dog diary #omorashi #piss kink #hiccup kink

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himbo-in-limbo · 1 year ago

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Now this is probably just because I’m a huge simp for Monty, but while I do think he’s lazy with aftercare, I do think he’d snuggle you. But that’s about it. And not just because he’s lazy. He’s also just a little stupid and doesn’t know what to do 😭

Now, since I rambled about Bonnie and Monty, and you rambled about Freddy and Bonnie, I’ll ramble about Freddy and Monty. And maybe another little surprise!

Now Freddy and Monty are both himbos. So two sides of the same coin. In other words, Freddy’s so sweet and gentle and telling Monty to be gentle with you. Not like Monty listens, so maybe. Jusssst maybe, Freddy gets aggravated and starts dominating Monty. Like we’ve established, Freddy doms brats. Monty is a brat. You see me?

And maybe you also get a bit of fun with Monty!

And then there’s after. Where he gets his revenge. Yeah you and Freddy are both gonna get a bit roughed up. Just imagine Monty dominating you while Freddy watches. I can just imagine all the dirty talk Monty says. Especially if this is a situation where you’re in a poly with Fronnie (Obvi with both Freddy and Bonnie being okay with this… okay not alright with it, but they both said you could smash Monty.) and Monty stroking his own ego and degrading you while Freddy just watches, knowing Monty’s about to do the same to him after.

I said I’d give you a surprise so here it is! Glamrock Foxy. Except I’m not mentioning bottom Foxy cause I do not hc that Foxy is ever a bottom. At most he’s a sub top.

So. He’s a half time cowboy half time pirate. According to SB and RUIN anyways…

Pirate Foxy: Definitely into knifeplay with his hook, teeth, claws, maybe a sword if he’s feeling extra frisky. And also, hammock. I’ve never banged in a hammock (Actually I’ve never.. actually banged. Irl. Just in fan fic and my imagination. Yknow that’s kinda weird cause I’m represented as a cro-) but Foxy definitely would smash you in his.

Cowboy Foxy: COWBOYS HAVE BIG DIC- ahem. So cowboys use rope is what I meant to say. (Unrelated but I find it extra hot to see Freddy all tied up in wires. Like imagine he went to go fix something and accidentally got all tied up in the wires and you just find him.) So Foxy ties you up. Anyways, milks you like a cow JSNAJKDJDN BYE

-🐦‍⬛

TW SPICY TOPICS N RAUNCHY SUBJECTS 🔥KIDDIES BE GONE!!!

I think I’ve finally perfected the way I will draw Monty….(hopefully)

Anyways, yes 100% these two would only (in my opinion) hate boink each other bc theys got tension (it also happened to be sexual tension…) I feel so sorry for Freddie bc 😭 Monty would be giving him such a hard time (in more than one way 😏)

And he’d DEFINITELY hog you like expect to get topped by Monty the most bc he’s a greedy bastard. oh but the degrading remarks he’d make at Freddie…..oof they way Monty would make you beg for HIM instead of Freddie and like you said that’d eventually piss off our Honeybear…if they start wrestling in bed I’m throwing money…

Uhhh…now for Foxy….honestly I don’t feel much for him LMAO not even enough like I do for Monty 💀💀💀 cute guy tho!

Maybe that’ll change if we get more lore about him? If he even is canon in SB (like yeah we see his old cardboard cutouts) but atm to me it looks like Foxy could have been Roxanne’s old model??? So she’s trans maybe?? If so good for her!! ♥️

#crow asks 🐦‍⬛#tw spicy #spicy writing #spicy talk #limbo writes #my art #digital art #digital illustration #original design #blog ask #blog stuff #fanart #fan service #glamrock foxy #glamrock freddy #montgomery gator #monteddy

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sadquickchristmassnowman · 11 months ago

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hi! what do you think are the best/most tolerable episodes in season 4 of community? it’s widely regarded as the worst season and I never know which episodes to watch each time I go through a community rewatch binge lol. so, I figured I would consult the encyclopedia! (this is my first time using the ask feature so I apologize if I am not using it correctly)

heyo! this is a great question. I actually have an abbreviated season 4 watchlist that cuts out the worst episodes (in my opinion), while staying comprehensible and making sure you're still able to follow the season's overarching plots:

4x01: history 101

4x03: conventions of space and time*

4x05: cooperative escapism in familial relations*

4x06: advanced documentary filmmaking

4x08: herstory of dance

4x11: basic human anatomy*

4x12: heroic origins*

4x13: advanced introduction to finality

the episodes with asterisks* are the ones I actually really enjoy watching. the others on the list are pretty mid, but are, in my opinion, important enough to the overarching plot and character development to be worth watching. when I'm showing other people season 4 for the first time, I adhere to this watchlist lol.

I’m going to do some (hopefully quick) explanations of how I came up with this list, but you don't have to read it if you don't want to lol:

✅ history 101: it's the first episode of the season, so it really does set the tone and establish some important details (jeff wants to graduate early, troy and britta are dating, this is their last year at greendale, etc.) as with most of season 4, the weirdness seems really contrived and unnatural, but it does have its moments of being genuinely funny. it's also a pretty abed-centric episode, which is always a bonus lol

❌ paranormal parentage: I don’t hate this episode, but it's just kind of boring and doesn't really add anything to the season. I love megan ganz but... yeah. a lot of the jokes seem forced, and there's way too much pierce for my liking. there are a couple good one liners ("you should probably tell your boyfriend's boyfriend" "I remember when this show was about community college") and it does help set up jeff finally contacting his dad, but imo it doesn't quite make the episode worth watching

✅ conventions of space and time: I’ve heard that some people hate this episode? couldn't be me. way too much trobed for me to hate it lmao. there is a lot of jeffannie in it too, but that resolves with the conclusion that annie is just a romantic who loves to fantasize, and doesn't actually have real feelings for jeff. it actually fuels my lesbiannie agenda tbh, because she is evidently just in love with the idea of a man but doesn't actually put that into practice. but that's another post lmao. we have some great one-liners, we have britta helping troy through his jealousy, we have "troy will find me :)" we have some more inspector spacetime lore, etc etc. I love this episode and rewatch it frequently.

❌ alternative history of the german invasion: for me, this episode has almost zero redeeming qualities. the jokes are lame, I hate professor cornwallis, there is so much discontinuity, it has zero importance in the bigger picture of the season and the show, it's out of character, etc. the one thing I like is the end tag.

✅ cooperative escapism in familial relations: this is a big one for me. I never see people talking about it, but to me this episode is one of season 4's saviors. we have HUGE jeff development, jeffbritta moments, some much needed shirley screentime and development, some great jokes ("-to eat garbage dip WHY DID I HAVE TO GO THIRD), classic trobedison shenanigans, and the shawshank redemption homage is very funny to me. plus! adam devine cameo! I like this episode more every time I watch it. unsung hero fr.

✅ advanced documentary filmmaking: okay so I won’t lie, I fucking HATE the changnesia arc. I think it is so incredibly stupid and uncreative. there are a million different and better ways they could have brought him back. but, this episode is just too important in the season's development to skip. and, honestly, if I ignore the whole premise, there are a lot of funny bits and jokes in this one. troy constantly smiling at the camera (read: smiling at abed), troy and annie being the silliest ever, jeff's trust issues, and ken jeong is truly very funny, I just hate this arc so much. but ultimately it's too important to cut. imo.

❌ economics of marine biology: I basically feel the same about this one as I do about alternative history of the german invasion. it's boring, the premise is stupid, it's out of character, it's unfunny, the guest character is lame, and it's pointless to the overall plot. abed and the delta cubes is a little bit funny? and I guess you could argue that the jeff and pierce development is important? but I’d refute that very quickly. it's pierce, who cares. not. worth. it.

✅ herstory of dance: this episode is honestly the upper end of mid, but it has enough good jokes and development to make it worth it. it is also Very abed-centric, which we've established is always a plus imo, and his whole bit with going on two dates at once is very in character. he also meets rachel, who comes back in season 5, so that's important. it also has some great jeff & britta development!!! which is sort of few and far between in the later seasons!!! yippee!!!

❌ intro to felt surrogacy: tied for my least favorite community episode of all time. it's clear they tried to do something similar to what they did with abed's uncontrollable christmas, but it is so incredibly contrived that it is physically painful to watch. I hate the puppets. the hot air balloon story is so stupid and out of character. the songs are bad. how dare they sully the legacy of my third favorite episode (lmao). the only redeeming qualities are troy as a whole (all of his lines are good, and that moment when he pretends his puppet is falling asleep is very funny), and the fact that pierce is not physically in it. but those do not make up for how horrific the rest of it is. in my opinion. haha.

❌ intro to knots: once again! Tied For My Least Favorite Community Episode! they're right next to each other, how convenient. and again: bad jokes, bad premise, I fucking hate professor cornwallis, the changnesia shit is back, the plot is ALL over the place, there is little to no actual character development, the dialogue just goes in circles, and it ends with a random litter of kittens that are never mentioned again??? I guess the only mildly important thing is the end tag with the evil study group, which comes back during the season finale. but yeah. not worth it. disgusting.

✅ basic human anatomy: and here we have a HUGE jump from the last one. this is my favorite season 4 episode, and is probably in my top 15 from the entire show. I could talk about this episode for hours. the troy development alone is so so so good and important. add abed into the mix and Oh Boy!!! britta is great in this one, jeff and the dean's whole thing is so fucking funny, shirley and annie competing against leonard for valedictorian on a technicality is very in character and silly, danny and donald's acting in this one is commendable, etc etc etc. there really isn't much, if anything, I dislike about this episode. jim rash being the credited writer makes me love him even more. legendary. outstanding.

✅ heroic origins: I actually really like this episode. it does still have that sort of unnatural and off-putting vibe that the majority of season 4 has, but I think it holds up. it's in character, it has some great jokes and one-liners, and although it does have its moments of discontinuity, it does a surprisingly good job of staying compliant with what has already been established. certainly much better than alternative history of the german invasion. abed's whole bit with the star wars prequels makes me laugh, the annie's boobs lore, footage of annie and troy in high school (surprisingly well done if you ignore the discontinuity of troy's injury), etc. it's also massively important for the overarching season plot, and we finally get to the conclusion of the stupid changnesia arc. I could go on and on, there's just a ton of really cool callbacks (including one to the pilot, which I only noticed a few months ago and am obsessed with), and I just. wasn't expecting this one to work out as well as it did. pleasantly surprised, all in all.

✅ advanced introduction to finality: this one is not great tbh, but it's too important plot-wise to skip. and, I mean, it does have some good moments. abed immediately recognizing evil jeff, the whole thing being in jeff's head a la remedial chaos all being in abed's head (insert something about how this being yet another demonstration of how fundamentally jeff and abed understand each other, which I could expand way more on but won't in this particular post), season 2 of the cape, "one of us is out of bullets" "is it you" "...yeah" "why would you tell me that," and more. overall, yeah, worth watching imo.

I do also want to say that I think season 4 is a bit overhated. I do agree that it is the worst season, I think most of us can agree that that is an objective truth, but it does have its moments and I do get slightly frustrated when people write the entire season off.

I’m also happy to hear anyone else's opinions on what you think is/isn't worth watching in season 4, especially if you really strongly disagree with me. I’m curious to what your reasoning is lmao.

okay! this is definitely way more elaboration than you needed, but I hope this was helpful 💯💯💯

#sorry again for the long wait on a response #thank you for your patience :)#community #nbc community #community nbc #media analysis #community encyclopedia

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randomyuu · 2 years ago

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Hunting together ♡

Alright. So. Hm.

How should I start this?

I love the fanfic this is based on. So… I drew the last scene in Chapter 1 :D (As I post this, it’s still in Chapter 1)

The fic is titled A promise in time by rizna. Please, pretty please, read the tags AND author notes carefully before reading! I can’t bear the thought traumatising any of you because you didn’t read the tags and the notes ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38933505/chapters/97368801

As usual, a bit of my thoughts below:

I really want to go on a rambling about how I love this fanfic, but we’ll go into ABO territory and I’m not sure if I want to do that lmao. But it’s really cute! Gojou being his bocchan persona, is beautiful. And I love how affectionate Yuuji is. I’m really weak for this Yuuji and just him in general :”)

So… about the drawing.

I am really sorry for all the history nerds who may have been inflicted physically by seeing this drawing ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I have never drawn kimono before, or at least never really seriously studying it before. And as usual, I just did a quick research on man’s kimonos in Edo Period and hoped for the best that I can trust the website. Haha what a mess :”D

The same goes for the bow and the ears, so… yeah. I don’t know why I make my life more difficult, but uh… I learn a bit, so… good for me? I guess???

At first, I want to make this full colour. Before I realise that I suck at colour theory and I just want to draw Yuuji hunting with Gojou aaaaaahhhh-

No, actually I think that’s not it.

It’s because the pose.

I can’t find good enough reference for the pose I have in mind—I tried to trace several similar poses, but it got weird because most of the poses use slim males, like, I need a bit of a muscle there, come on. So in the end… I just wing it after observing the references I got. The pose takes way too long to my liking, and this is caused by my lack of ability in perspective. I must say at some point I was internally frustrated, and that may have great influence over why I didn’t full colour the drawing. I don’t want extra stress haha.

And then the background came, and the stress was added in anyway lmaooo

It may sound like I was complaining, but it’s because of how I like the idea I have before drawing. I love the hunting scene so much—Yuuji’s so cool, Gojou finally acknowledged him and I squeal, Yuuji’s still so cool and now mysterious //gasp—I want to portray it as beautifully as possible. But alas ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

It’s interesting how I learn more about drawing through making fan art for fanfics. They never failed to push me outside of my comfort zone, and in return, I learn bit by bit about new things I otherwise would learn probably years later.

But yeah. Hopefully you enjoy the drawing, and this random essay I wrote! :D

Have a nice day!

#Yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #jjk ship #goyuu #fanart #jjk fic #i tried my best #the lining process was really fun!#colouring it though #not so much #i hope i can make yuuji a lot cooler but alas #五悠 #5u #gojo x yuji #gojo x itadori #gojou x yuuji #goyu

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skoulsons · 1 year ago

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Hopefully I’m not grasping at straws, but this has been making my brain melt out of my ears for weeks. Maybe it’ll just be a hc if I’m wrong and everyone disagrees <3

Baylan’s stance. In almost all of his scenes, he stands (or walks, on the rare occasion) with his right hand resting on his saber.

The first example of this is in episode 1 when he sends Shin to Lothal. Baylan doesn’t have his hand resting on it when he’s standing near Morgan when he and Marrok return, but when Morgan leaves and Shin stands beside him, he does. And when Shin leaves, the shot is wider and we see Baylan standing in this way as Shin walks away.

Then, at the beginning of episode 2 when he and Shin bring the map to Seatos, he has his hand there as they walk up.

He continues to keep it rested there throughout the scene. As Morgan plays around with the star map and shows Peridea, his hand is always resting on his saber.

This shot was a specific kind that I was looking for when it came to making this post. While you can kind of see his arm here, the main thing is that his arm position is drastic enough to change how his cloak sits around him. He doesn’t keep his arm close to his side when he stands like this. His elbow juts out enough that it makes a difference in his cloak.

BUT, before I talk about my original plan, a few more things.

This is the only scene he has in episode 3, and it’s at the very end. Obviously, he’s not standing like he usually is.

And, you guessed it, his hand is rested there in all their scenes in episode 4 as well, even when they talk to Morgan on the Eye of Sion through the weird hologram thing.

And I think, personally, this comes down to primarily Shin. I think he stands how he does out of protection for her. So for that ^ scene? He’s just standing, waiting. No one to protect.

Then this scene. They’re not around anyone. We see Morgan’s ship flying away and I guess, til Thrawn got there, the Great Mothers just dipped for a while?? Either way, they’re alone. They’re comfortable. Shin’s tone is borderline teasing sometimes. They both smile and have a good conversation. And still, in the comfort of each other, his hand is still there. A scene where he could drop his guard and relax a little bit, he still doesn’t. Comfortable stance? Sure. They’re on a strange, dangerous planet with people they both don’t really trust? Also true. She’s his padawan and we’ve seen before how protective he is over her? Yep, that too.

She’s been with him for a long time. He’s protected her for a long time. He’s cared about her for a long time. He’s trained her for a long time. He’s been her father (figure) for a long time. It’s a habit that’s been created through their time together.

And I don’t think he does it because it’s the most comfortable way for him to stand. If it were, I don’t think he’d ever bother standing with his arms out in front of him.

Now, I did say primarily Shin. There are some scenes (really just one lmao) where he does it with Morgan when Shin is not around.

Though, in the second one here, he does immediately take his hand off and hold them out in front of him because Morgan is leaving and he’s staying to wait for Ahsoka. No one to protect.

Do I think he stands like this to have his saber ready in an instant if Shin is in trouble? Absolutely. Do I also think that, in the scenes where he stands like this with Morgan, it is also used to protect Morgan (albeit maybe a little selfishly) because Peridea is Baylan’s goal and she is needed to make sure that he gets there? Yea, probably.

So. A day or two after watching the finale, I was thinking about Baylan’s last scene (as you do). I didn’t have the scene pulled up, but I remember thinking, “Wait, did he have his hand resting on his saber?” For a few days. I didn’t open my computer to even check (brain and life ynow the vibes) whether he did or not, so I just kind of daydreamed in ignorance thinking that his hand wasn’t resting on it.

For those few days, that thought had me going. If that was a habit he’d built up for years because I won’t lose another padawan (dphc willing), then. mmm yea that had me a bit sad. A habit he built up to protect Shin at all costs. To not risk anything for her life. To keep yet another dead child from haunting every decision he makes. To just not lose someone else. Furthermore, a habit like that is going to be difficult to break. If the jump from Ahsoka and Sabine settling down with the Noti was a few weeks from Baylan standing on the Father’s hand, I could maybe see him losing the habit. Shin isn’t there with him, so what’s there to protect?

But if the scenes are only a matter of a few days apart, then I’d think he’d still have that habit.

And whether it was a few days or a few weeks, he still does it.

As he walks up, which isn’t always the case with scenes where he walks (the scenes where he does walk with his hand on his saber are around Shin), his arm is at his side.

This shot, you can see the hint of metal at the top of his saber. Usually, if his hand were there, you would see all of his fingers by now.

But then, there’s his final shot. Much like the third screenshot in this post, his cloak is covering his arms and it’s slightly hard to tell. And even with his new and gorgeously improved cloak with what I can only imagine is Howler skin, you can still see how the position of his arm affects how his cloak sits around it. Even easier than that, you can see the crook of his elbow and just the fact that his arm is bent.

That means the habit is still there. He’s still doing it without thinking. Whether it took him three days or three weeks to find the statues of the Ones, the habit is still there. That need, that part of him that spent year after year after year protecting Shin is still prominent, even with her gone. Even though they’ve parted. Even though he put distance between them, that need, that inclination to protect is still there.

Maybe it’s because it’s a dangerous planet. Maybe it’s because he’s had to kill a lot of things to get there. Maybe it comes from his determination to stay alive and to find the beginning he so desperately wants.

But… I honestly think it is the part of him that is still holding on to Shin with a vice, white-knuckle grip.

#I could be detrimentally wrong #but it’s so.#its been killing me honestly #anyway :)#ahsoka tv #baylan skoll #shin hati #L analyzes

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