#i respect a lazy worker but i don't enjoy when that laziness makes MY job harder. and hey maybe he's not even lazy

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

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[marine-indie-gal]

Been waiting for so long on wanting to design Some Parents for My Space Goofs OCs (including the Infertile Neighbors who treat their own Pets as Children).

Also, given on how that I've added in the Girl from the Cancelled Movie, I'd figure that since if the Movie would've already been made, I could at least imagine on how either Xilam or Synthese would've have design the Parents based on their Daughter, while also giving Ambre's Family their own Surname.

Though I've actually drew the First Neighbors through an Animatic that I did last month, I've wanted to show their True Appearances (especially after doing their own Pets).

Bonus Undercut, I've also created each Bio for The Parents as well as their Official Names & Confirmed Ages.

Rebecca (Fitzy & Fergus' Mother)

Very Loving Cleaning Housewife who loves to Cook and Bake some Delicious Foods. But can get very extremely worried, especially if either Fitzy or Fergus disappear in front of her.

Harold (Fitzy & Fergus' Father)

The Kind of Your Average Everyday-Run-Of-The-Mill Neighbor Character. Loves to cook some Barbeque & Hang out to Chat with some Friends & is a Very Proud Father to his own "Children".

Ambre's Mother

Caring & Devoted Mother whose a Workaholic (especially when she's out on her Job that she works as a Waitress at a Restaurant). But cannot take any non-sense (especially if she doesn't believe or is unaware of the fact that one of Her Neighbors could be Actual Aliens).

Ambre's Father

Lazy Father who tries his own Best to Work even Harder. He works as Both of a Construction Worker & Craftsman of Wood, kinda like to be the Dad that just wants to take his own Family through some Outings.

Lukas' Mother

Usually a Chill Woman who can make manners into her own Hands, she is indeed Very Sassy and Snarky (probably on why her Son is like that). Mostly like the "Wine Aunt" type. She also works an Employee at a Yacht Club.

Lukas' Father

The Kind of Sneaky Jokester of a Father who likes to tease around a bit while also love spoiling his own Son. Would have a Few Disagreements with his Wife (especially if the Father were to spoil his Child a bit much), but loves her for who she is. Also works as a Bartender near an Breakfast Diner.

Jayda's Father

Very Polite and Well Nice Man with a Bold Good Heart. Genuinely a Smart Person whose always the Level-Headed One. The Most Sophisticated Gentleman of a Father who can comfort Others if One Person might be Sad. Basically the “Male-Wife” Man. Also works at a Factory.

Jayda's Mother

Very Sassy & Determined compare to Lukas' mother, she cannot take crap from anybody (not even to those who try to push her) but is also very Strong and Open-Minded with some Cunning Strength. But don't ever make a Big Mama angry, especially if one might upset any of her own Kids. Probably why her Husband really loves her, is because of the way he admires her Own Willpower & is the Very Protective Wife/Mother at all costs. She also works at a Car Wash.

Matthew's Mother

A Sweet & Loving Devoted Mother to her own Son and even Faithful Wife to her Husband. Loves to give a Warm Special Welcome to her own Guests (especially if her Son is making Friends) & even works as an Librarian after retiring herself as a School Teacher.

Matthew's Father

A Very Strict Dad who works at an Office (the same One whom Ambre's Mother goes to) and is often stressed about his own Job despite getting some warm comfort from his Dear Wife. Despite being a Loving Husband & Good Father himself, he can get quite stubborn towards anybody, even with a serious attitude as he hates when some of his Son's experiments can go wrong but still respects his Son's devoted love for Science.

Tyson's Father

A Very Extremely Scared & Cowardly Anxious Man who happens to have Many Types of his Deep Phobias (mostly likely Insects). Can act a little too over-protective of his own Children (especially when he sense that they're almost in Danger), but still enjoys life despite the Worst that he has been through. Works as a Mailman but always gets into Wacky Hijinks such as Dogs chasing right after him.

Tyson's Mother

A Very Calm and Sensible Mother & is always there for her Husband to make sure that everything is always Alright. A Well Adjust Behave & the Most Very Sane Person on the Entire Planet who has a deep love for Nature, a Good Kind-Hearted Mother towards her Kids & gives Good Advice towards People (probably the reason as to why She is there to shield her own Husband as she doesn't tend to hesitate). Also works as a Florist.

Space Goofs (c) Xilam

OCs (c) Me

[populationpensive]

As someone who works in hospital/critical care, do you have any advice on when to walk away? I’m an ICU RPh. I love the work that I do, I love the nurses and docs I work with, and speaking as objectively as possible I’ve always gotten great feedback from coworkers and admin. But my immediate supervisors (manager and director) are some of the worst people I’ve ever met.

They have huge egos and will not consider any process improvements that they don’t come up with. They’ll change the workflow and schedules on a dime to punish people and are pretty blatant about retaliating when folks try to speak up. They actively suppress reported med errors by turning into an at-fault event of whoever is reporting vs implementing process improvement. They refuse to do any kind of departmental education or training (“you’re here to work not to learn”), but then blame pharmacists for not staying “up to date” when the department is called out for following outdated guidelines. But they’ve been at the hospital 40 and 20 years respectively so despite multiple HR complaints from other staff, nothing ever seems to stick.

I hate the idea of leaving a place and coworkers (and patients!!!) that I love, especially given I don’t interact with them directly too much lout on the unit most of the day. Plus my family lives here and I’d hate to have to move away from them. But these two can and do make my life miserable when they feel like it, and I don’t know at what point it’s time to draw the line. Critical care is already such an emotionally draining field and I just feel more and more burned out each day. Idk if you have any experience dealing w something similar?

Hi nonnie,

I am so sorry you are experiencing this. I think it is fair to say that every hospital has some bullshit. Actually, a great pharmacist on my unit left for similar administrative concerns. The medication error suppression is SUPER concerning, though. That's just irresponsible and endangers patients. Also, the retaliatory component is also extremely concerning. That is something worth escalating to HR tbh.

Does your hospital have an ombudsman? Most hospitals do and they are meant to be a kind of liaison between the public (including employees) and the institution. If your hospital doesn't have one, your state surely does. This might be a good avenue for escalating your concerns if you feel compelled but feel limited by institutional roadblocks.

When reflecting about my job, there are definitely a lot of things I would want to change about my institution and unit. For me, I have to assess what I can change and what I can't. Of the things I can't change, what am I able to tolerate? (and by tolerate I mean literally just co-exist with an issue and focus on patient care.)

I had a co-worker quit 2 years ago because they hated our unit director. I mean, I'm not a fan of the dude either but as far as unit directors go, I would rather have someone who is lazy or laissez-faire as opposed to micromanagey. I have experienced WAY worse leadership, so for me, having this individual in this role isn't the worst thing ever. Is the unit director worth leaving a job I love? To me, it isn't.

If you enjoy your job, enjoy your co-workers, and get what you want out of that job, I personally don't see a reason to leave. But, you are the only one that knows what you can handle. If your job is taking up your thoughts outside of work and becoming a negative experience, then maybe it is best to move on.

-Poppi

[thursdayisbetterthanfriday]

I have had the pleasure of teaching gen Z co-workers on how to do certain processes/use certain technology and this absolutely tracks. 95% of the time, it's really not the case that they're lazy, or don't want to learn. It's mainly the case that they haven't either been taught it, or their "technology environment" hasn't involved having to use various desktop systems that many businesses use, or that even late millennials like me use. I was lucky in that I grew up messing around with, and using, a lot of the tools necessary for me to do my old job reasonably well.

- Want to make a god-awful Sonic the Hedgehog sprite-comic to impress your 10 year old class-mates because you think it makes them laugh? Get good at using Microsoft Publisher, sprite editing using Microsoft Paint, GIMP , and "surfing the web" on that new-fangled Google thing to find all the fan-forums where people are ripping sprites.

- Want to calculate the best trade routes in an online 18th century trading MMO? Want to calculate the right formula to make that Garry's mod automated rocket launching system? Excel/LibreOffice Spreadsheets. Spreadsheets for days, and you can use the formula system to MASS PRODUCE the numbers. It's like goddamn magic, (except when you mass produce the errors, and your whole model falls apart). - Want to print a giant geological map? Get used to the nightmare that is a large A0 plotter, learning about trim and bleed sizes and essential maintenance. Get ready to cry at the price of an ink cartridge. Get ready to scream as the several-foot long map is printed at an A3 size, on an A0 page, because you forgot to adjust one of the two sets of internal Windows vs printer driver settings.

Even using a desktop computer. You might have guessed I'm a massive computer nerd. It makes it so much easier to do a wide variety of jobs knowing how to use shortcuts, having a high wpm keyboard typing speed and being able to automate parts using auto-hotkeys and other programming tricks. The Gen-Z workers I had to teach often had less experience with desktop computing, and are mainly mobile-native. It's no surprise they aren't familiar with these systems which many I knew grew up with, and use as readily as breathing in some cases. But they did learn - and they did pick it up when they tried, and failed, to use them over and over again. Just as I did growing up in lower-stakes situations. Computing and IT classes, in my opinion, MASSIVELY waste the time of children as they are often (at least in the UK) viewed as non-important by schools and parents attempting to game the University selection system. This is typically picked up on by the kids as well, who then use them as an excuse to mess around (Though sometimes learning key skills in the process, such as running N64 emulators!). While I did learn to use practical computer skills, such as Microsoft Office, during my early education, most of what I know is self taught. I enjoyed it - and made practical use of it. What happens to the people who didn't? Gen-Z. And then we pillory them for it. Computing should be given the respect it deserves in the curriculum - both for the functional, practical, elements and for the sheer, utter, magic of the machine itself.

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[x9937552]

A Year Ago Today

It has been exactly one year (and one day) since the incident at my job. I denied it for so long, thinking about how I could have died, or could have seen everyone around me die at work, could not affect me.

It has also been one year since I last saw who I thought was my soulmate. I saw so many signs. But I know now that a life partner is too good to be true. I no longer believe that I'm meant to be with anyone. It's clear that no one that I'm interested in sees anything worth exploring in me.

I have finally stopped watching astrology content. I respect other people's beliefs, but I realize that it's not real for me. All it does is keep me waiting for wishes like a dumb child.

I still cry. I don't think I'll truly get over being alone. But at least I know how to navigate it, because it's all I know.

We are transitioning in a new manager into our department, which means new rules, which means pushing out all the old people who refuse to comply. I acknowledge that everyone is simply doing their job. Despite having no managerial experience, I do know that every new manager tries to establish themselves with their own rules and changes (expecting them to respect the current circumstances is unrealistic) in order to gain respect, or simply make it seem that they're doing their job. Because honestly, managers don't do much grunt work. They arguably do less and earn more.

Today flashed me back to my previous job where I was scolded left and right for not performing up to par. Naturally, I have an excuse for everything, but I'm not lazy. I have worked so hard ever since I got hired. I don't claim to be the best worker, but I'm certainly not the worst. I don't call out excessively, and I don't have issues with my coworkers that inhibit my ability to work. But none of it matters because I'm not a people person. I don't like talking to people. I don't like engaging with customers in order to sell them something. I don't like talking to strangers in order to sell them something. It's disgusting.

So today I realized that I have to get out of here, whether or not I deserve better, because I don't want to repeat my past. I don't want to stay somewhere longer than I should have (and I already have, honestly). There goes another 401k to waste (I never signed up, and I never took advantage of the health coverage). But it doesn't matter anyway, because a couple thousand dollars don't matter when you're dead. I have life insurance. I'm not certain of the ins and outs (I highly doubt they cover suicide), but I'm going to make sure that I'm incinerated, so that my family won't scramble to gather pennies to bury me. It's expensive and it destroys the planet.

After a long period of heavy days, where I was actively thinking of ways to end my life, I felt clear-minded. I wasn't overtly suicidal ever since my period has ended, but I know that the feelings will return. Thoughts of suicide don't go away on their own. I know one day I'll get over my fear of the pain and the logistics of killing myself, and no one will stop me. I won't live to tell my story: about how I regret the act, and will prevent others from doing so. Life is too treacherous to do. I don't blame anyone, however promising or loved or cushioned, for choosing to die at their own hand.

I will make sure that my last days will be in comfort. I will choose where I actually enjoy earning money. And I will make sure that I find a fool-proof way to kill myself. Someday.

[sweetandsourfics]

Glitter & Gold

Natasha Romanoff x Show Girl Reader | 1930s | NSFW | Masterlist

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a woman in a man's world, tough and brilliant she is a force to be reckoned with, and she does all of this for her one true love. A little dancer with a mass amount of talent.

Warnings: slight mention of homophobia, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, edging, fxf, adult language.

Authors Note: I have a massive soft spot for my girl Natasha. Feedback is welcomed. I love hearing what you think of my stories. I'm also thinking of opening up my asks for requests.

Song used: The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane.

Natasha is a woman in a man's world. She demands respect. Unlike the other women who are laughed out of the room, she is given respect.

She protects the women of the city. Earning the nicknamed the Black Widow. Even worked enough recognition for her name that the group known as The Avengers came knowing at her door.

She takes a long drag of her cigarette, the stress of the night rolling off her shoulders.

Music erupts from the band pit, pulling all of the club's patrons to the stage. You step forward body shield with two giants fans.

A melody pours from your painted lips.

There you are, twirling around on the stage, dripping in jewels. A smirk pulls at the corners of Natasha couldn't help but laugh as Tony's mouth hangs open.

"Ain't that your girl?" Tony asks with a lazy gesture.

Flicking the cigarette butt into the crystal ashtray, a grin playing on her red lips. "That she is."

A true starlet, this tiny stage doesn't deserve you. You belong on Broadway. A life full of luxury, and she is going to make sure you get it.

Natasha watches as your eyes light up. You've noticed her.

You are now only singing for her, swaying your hips for her. A show that was meant for everyone now is all for the Black Widow.

They better enjoy the show because this is all they're getting.

Tony has managed to pick his jaw up from the floor. "That is one hell of a girl you got."

"Oh, I know." Natasha loves talking about you. Bragging about what a talented little lady she gets to come home to.

Her boys are the only people that she can talk to about her marital status. The rest of the city knows her as the man killer, single by choice. But in reality, she's wrapped around the finger of a certain female dancer.

Like everyone else in the club, they watched eyes fully focused on you. Tony feeling jealousy nipping at his nerves.

As the band fades out, you are rewarded with a standing ovation. Tony lets out a wolf whistle that surely has sent Natasha and the five closets tables deaf.

"You okay with closing this deal without me?" Natasha asks Tony.

She has some personal business to take care of. You can't expect to shake your hips and flutter your eyelash like that and expect nothing in return.

Tony gives her a knowing smile. He knows that look in her eye. Hell, he's the king of personal business.

"You want to go have some fun with your girl?" She was about to bite back, but he bet her to the punch. "Just go before I steal her away from you."

The look in Natasha screams bloody murder, and Tony raises his hands. "But I won't."

He downs the rest of his drink, "because I don't have a death wish."

Natasha stands, patting her boss on the shoulder. "That's what I thought."

Behind the closed door, Natasha can hear the beads of your dress rattle with your movements.

You're humming away to yourself, riding the high that comes with performing.

With no need to knock, Natasha lets herself in. The smile that you give her can brighten up the darkest days.

Your smile is the reason for her present and future.

Natasha grabs your hips and plants a heated kiss onto your lips. You're already whining for more.

You shiver in her hold, your cunt purring for her touch. Lord, she has only kissed you, and yet your body is craving her. She's like a drug, one that you know you'll never be able to kick.

She breaks the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. "You really do know how to make that stage yours, don't you, baby girl?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere." You tease.

Her lips are back on yours, kissing you hungrily. Manicured hands wondering to your plush ass.

Natasha's lips wander from yours and down your neck. Sucking and biting into the subtle flesh.

You'll be packing on the foundation tomorrow.

You manage to rasp out a warning. "T-the door, baby."

With a frustrated noise and reluctant hands, Natasha pulls away. Taking the wooden chair from the dresser, she barricades the door.

Her coworkers may have no issue with your relationship, but you'd be out of a job and on the streets (Natasha would never let that happen) if one of the many club workers caught on.

By the time she returns, you sit atop the dresser, pantyhose, underwear and shoes on the floor.

"Why, aren't you a good girl?" She purrs, stalking you like a lioness. You can feel yourself grow wetter. "Ready and waiting just for me."

Natasha runs to fingers between your lips, collecting your arousal. "You are truly eager aren't you?"

You haven't the strength to speak. Your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. A pitiful needy noise is her only answer.

"You know the rules, Princess. No touching. Hands on the dresser." Natasha purs, pressing a finger to your clit. "If they move, the longer you'll have to wait to come."

Slowly she pushes two fingers into your tight entrance. Working you at an agonising pace. Your hands tremble at your side. You need to find some way to keep them busy or for Natasha to move faster,

You grind yourself against her. "That's it, princess. Nice and easy."

She knows your body as if it was her own. Curling her fingers she rips your breath from your lungs. Natasha meets you in a loving eager kiss.

you moan into the kiss as she quickens her movements. The small dressing from being filled with sinful noises. Your moans and the wet sounds of Natasha finger fucking you like some back alley whore.

"Yes! Yes, there!" You scream. Back arching from the mirror. Natasha applies much-needed attention to your clit.

Your orgasm approaches like a tidal wave, but just as the water is about to crash onto the shore. Natasha pulls away.

A devilish smirk on her lips. Licking you from her fingers.

The ache that radiates between your legs brings tears to your eyes. Helplessly you buck your hips hoping that something, anything! Will be able to scratch the itch.

"I love it when you're like this." Natasha takes a step back, taking a moment to admire her work. "Desperate. For me."

You beg, "please."

"Please, what?"

"Please, let me come."

"That's my girl."

Your legs are spread wide as Natash buries her tongue deep within you. The pink muscle pulls unholy sounds from you. Her thumb massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled within her auburn locks as your hips abstinently roll against Natasha's tongue. Hungrily searching for release. Natasha has a death grip on your thighs.

Silent screams of pleasure falls from your lips. Thighs shake as the long-awaited wave of ecstasy swallows you whole.

The signs of your pleasure glisten on Natasha's lips and chin. Only her can make you cum this hard. Just one of the many reasons on the long list of why you love her.

[titenoute]

You know...People don't think one second, that the reason their streets are clean is because that's someone's job. They don't care. Not their problem.

Except it very much is.

Ever had garbage collectors going on a strike in your city ? I had. I lived in a pedestrian street in Marseille. It wasn't always perfect. But it was peaceful. Grandpas would sit and watch over the streets, making sure the lads wouldn't go off doing dumb things. Kids would safely play together there.

Then one day, the trash collectors, who were not exactly paid super well, decided to go on a strike. As you do. In the span of a week, the street was full of garbage. The grandpas stopped coming down. Because nobody likes to stay in the trash. The parents didn't let their kids out, because again. Trash everywhere. Plus the grandpas weren't there to keep an eye on them. At the end of the month, where the garbage bins was, there was a mountain of trash. Some people ended up setting it on fire. My street looked like a war zone and stank. It wasn't exactly a fun environment to be in.

When the strike ended, everything got cleaned up.

It's not an easy job. Your work space is the street and you got to work with the weather conditions. And whether you enjoy your work or not, people tend to give you little to no respect.

These workers were essential. So how about we don't make their job an even harder one by just stopping to be lazy ? It's really, REALLY, not that hard.

who fucking litters. why do i ever see litter. who thinks that’s okay. who. who NEEDS to throw their fast food bag out the fucking window instead of waiting until they get somewhere with a trashcan. what kinda clown behavior. get fucked.

[todourouki]

Mr. & Mrs. Bakugo (1)

a mini series | chapter ONE

✰ I’m finally posting a bakugo mini fic and I don’t think y’all understand just how fucking excited I am for this WHEW anyways yea I think I can post part two in a few hours <3 wanting after this it’s literally just sex and irdc xox enjoy

btw y’all see the gif I made? ain’t it mad cute? ugh i’m soft for this bozo

PAIRING bakugo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT 3.0k

WARNINGS cursing

✎ 2 | ✎ 3 | ✎ 4 | ✎ 5

The office was a generally quiet area. That's how pro-hero Ground Zero liked it. There was always calm, instrumental music playing in the back with everyone dressed in their dark hero outfits in contrast to the complete set up of the office. Anyone hardly ever spoke, compensating for the loud yelling done by the blond man every day in his office.

At lunch, everyone ate the same food and sat with the same people, all returned to their same boring desks and always had the same looks on their face. Everyone enjoyed it, which would be hard to tell if anyone who wasn't a worker there looked from the outside. Bakugo loved the dynamic of his office, he enjoyed the consistency.

That was, until you arrived.

You had been recommended by no one other than the number one hero of his time, All-Might, so Bakugo really felt he had no choice but to take you on. He had never heard of you before— only knowing you were in freshly graduated from U.A about two years prior in class 1-A and he was a bit impressed as he read through your file given to him by the retired-hero.

Y/L/N, Y/N

19 | December 16th

Quirk: Mutation (can look at anyone and quickly mutate into them for max 30 minutes, including their quirk)

Strongest Qualities: Witty, Strong-Willed, Truthful, Punctual, Confident

Weakest Qualities: Quick-Tempered, Defiant, might have a bit of a Superiority Complex, Lazy

The minute he accepted you into his office, he instantly regret it.

You walked in with a smile that was probably a bit too bright for his liking. Your outfit consisted of a black, skin tight body suit with the zipper hanging dangerously low. It resembled the one of that one air headed girl from Shiketsu High from the practical Bakugo participated in. Your curly, voluptuous hair cascaded down your scalp, curly bangs covering some of your forehead. Your long, shiny boots went up to your thighs as you walked with so much confidence, it made him think back to the years he was in UA (which was really only like 4 years ago. He was 22).

He watched as you walked in, hands behind your back as each step made almost close to no noise. The minute you opened your mouth to make a comment about how boring every thing was around you, Bakugo decided he hated you.

It wasn't as if he would ever fire you. He couldn't. You were an amazing hero, and you did your job really well. You mastered your quirk, being able to transform back and forth quickly within the blink of an eye. You mastered stealth, played your role, and were never late to work.

His only real problem with you, was when you weren't on your outside patrols and doing outside work. Outside the office, Bakugo almost loved how good you were at your job. Inside, though? He absolutely despised you. You knew it too.

You'd do things to purposely get him riled up; always walking too slow for his liking to meetings, always being defiant during those same meetings, always sitting with your legs on top of your desk and your body leaned back against the chair as you read a magazine instead of doing actual work, always doing things he despised.

Don't get him started on your appearance either. The body suits never changed, yet they were always some different color. You had the ability to change the color whenever you wanted to on a switch designed specially to help with your stealth, and you used it on purpose.

You knew he hated the bright colors, he hated how you walked back and forth across his office in order to make him glance at the bright, fruitful colors with a smirk on your face. You knew Bakugo would never fire you— you were too damn good at your job for him to even consider it. Today, you found yourself sporting the black version of your body-suit though, wanting to give the man a break before he popped a vessel.

Everyone in the office admired you, slowly doing things like having colored flowers on their desks, or having a bit more fun at work. Bakugo noticed but never said anything.

With that, you found yourself dragging in the bag of papers you had just retrieved from some villains on the parts of town that belonged to Bakugo and his team. You smiled at everyone, politely responding to their greetings and making your way to the door of the man you loved speaking to the most. You weren't sure if it was the anger, the bickering, or the looks he gave you, but he was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. Getting him riled up was your favorite thing to do at work, honestly speaking.

You knocked on his door, hearing his groggy voice tell you to come in. The large black door opened as you pushed it, closing it once you got in and marching over to his large glass desk.

He sat there, hands behind his head as his feet were crossed across the desk and his face screamed I hate being a hero and I'm really stressed. He sat in his hero outfit, all the accessories thrown against the desk as he looked at you waiting for you to speak.

"I got the plans from that one villain hideout on 43rd. It was in this really gross building. I should be payed extra for having to dirty my suit like that." You joked, tossing the bag on the desk and wiping the imaginary dirt off your covered stomach. Bakugo grabbed the bag, looking through it and tossing it back onto the desk.

"Good, get back to work." He simply said, tiredly looking out the floor to ceiling windows across from you. You raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on your hip expectedly.

"What? No smart remark?" You questioned. He looked at you with his crimson red eyes beginning to narrow.

"I don't have time for that today, [y/l/n]." The sophistication made your nose scrunch, moving some things off his desk and propping you butt right into it.

Bakugo stared at you in disbelief, taking his legs off the desk as he stared at you with anger beginning to rise against his cheeks. Bingo.

“Get your ass off your boss's desk." He growled, making you laugh and turn your legs all the way over. They were now facing him, your entire body sitting across from his as he inched his chair back.

This wasn't the first time you had done this, honestly you knew how much he hated it which is exactly why you did it so much. You also knew he really wouldn't stop you from sitting there. It was a thing the both of you had, just like the bickering.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What's up your ass today?" Your voice was blunt, looking at your manicured hands in front of you and playing with the acrylic white tips in disinterest.

“The fact that you have no respect for your superiors." He grumbled, rolling his chair beside you and beginning to read some of the papers.

His arms were terribly close to your thighs, and you almost had to physically punch yourself to stop thinking about what it would be like if he placed a hand on top of them. You both couldn't do that, you knew how much you despised the man and you knew just how much he hated you.

“You're so fucking boring." You stated, hopping off the desk and strutting your way to the window. Bakugo ignored your, clenching the pen in his hand with more force as he sighed deeply and stood quiet.

This bothered you. There was nothing you hated more than being ignored, and you knew that he knew that you hated that.

“I said," you spoke through gritted teeth, marching over to the desk and gripping the glass with your fingers, "You're, so, fucking, boring." Each word seethed through your teeth as your irritation grew.

“Can you stop being such a fucking attention-seeking bitch and understand that I don't have time for your shit today?" Bakugo retaliated with sarcasm laced in his tone.

He lifted his head to stare at you, both your eyes filled with an immense amount of hatred that made your chest heave. This is how every conversation between the two of you went. You'd walk in, a purposely happy mood to get on his nerves, him having a shitty attitude over whatever minuscule thing happened to him, and both of you having a two lined conversation before starting to bicker harshly. Your eyes never left his, the grip on the glass hardening as you furrowed you're freshly done eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out of my office." Your boss spat, making you scoff at his words.

“You think I want to be in here?" You asked, not once breaking eye contact with the blond man. "I just want to know why the dude that signs my checks has a fucking stick up his ass—"

“That's enough!" Bakugo yelled, slamming his hand against the glass and hearing it even slightly crack.

This caused you to flinch, a scowl appearing on your face. This was the exact end you predicted. You got on his nerves or he got on yours, you'd both come at each other's throats, then you'd leave in a huff. Same thing, different day.

You stood quiet, letting go of the desk and snorting, mumbling the word fucking asshole under your breath as you turned around and walked out the door. Today bothered you more for some reason.

You weren't sure if it was the aggressive way he hit the desk that bothered you or if it was the problems you were going through back in your apartment with a certain man you wouldn't want to think about right now, but whatever it was really pissed you off.

You made sure to slam the door on your way out, walking over to the elevator and going back to the main floor where everyone else from your department was located. On the way, you passed his secretary who always gave you a sneer when you'd come out his office.

You knew, as well as every other damn person that worked for that asshole, that she had some weird obsession with the man. She also had some weird obsession with the idea of you and him sleeping together.

“You should really respect your superiors, [Y/N]." She made sure to put a disgusting emphasis on your name while you waited for the stupid, excruciatingly slow elevator to get to your floor.

“You should really suck my dick, Lui." You retaliated. You were staring at her with your arms crossed against your chest and a smirk playing on your lips.

It wasn't until you turned around that you heard another voice just had to butt in. He just had to speak when he wasn't being spoken to. The elevator finally reached the floor, yet before the doors opened, you heard him call out to you.

“[Y/N], you should really respect Lui," his voice was smug, staring at you with the same crossed arm pose as he leaned against his open door, "she is your superior after all."

You did nothing but glare at him, letting the doors close on your angry face and finally going back down to where you belonged.

✰.

Around two hours later, you found yourself shuffling papers around your desk. It had been a while since you organized it and you thought now that you had nothing to do (and by nothing, you meant having assignments you just didn't feel like doing), now would be the perfect time to do it.

As soon as you started to get in the groove, you heard your phone on the desk buzz and you just knew who it was. With an attitude, you picked up the phone, twirling the cord with your nails.

“Mr. Bakugo would like to see you." Lui sneered, making you roll your eyes and hang up. Mr. Bakugo? Get a fucking grip, you thought to yourself as you made your way to the man's office.

✰.

Ignoring Lui's orders to not walk in without knocking, you shoved the door open and walked inside the man's cold, exposed office. In front of you was a shirtless Bakugo, standing with tailors at his sides as he tried on different shirts.

You gulped, trying your hardest to not stare as you started to play with your nails. It was something you always did to make sure you didn't give the blond any confidence points. He didn't need to know how attractive he looked more than he probably does.

“[Y/N]." His blank tone made you hum in response, waiting for him to continue.

“Look at me when I speak to you." Fuck.

Your eyes rolled, maintaining your composure and looking up at the man that was now buttoning up a crimson red button up shirt that fit him spectacularly.

Your eyes roamed down to his chest for a second, studying the exposed skin before he covered it back up. The man took no notice of your wandering eyes, finally meeting your eyes and clearing his throat.

“There's a Gala in downtown Tokyo tonight. Can I count on you to attend with me?" He questioned darkly. You glared at him, still mad at what he had said to you but huffing in defeat.

You knew this day was coming. You knew you had to go with him to this stupid gala because there were most likely going to be some of the highest paid criminals around and you knew it had to do with the case you were currently working on.

And even if you just wanted to go home after work and take a fucking break from having a scowl on your face all day, you knew you didn't really have a choice.

“Yes."

Your blank response made him send the tailors towards you, beginning to take measures of your body for them. It wasn't until you had to physically stop them with your arms out.

“I actually have a dress of my own I plan on wearing, no need for all this." Your lips curved up to a smile as the men bowed in apology and went back to Bakugo.

The blond man stood quiet, letting you know to be ready by eight and to leave early if you felt it was necessary. An excuse to leave early? Of course you would take it.

✰.

You found yourself frantically fixing your make up while the time read 7:54. You didn't know it would take so much for your curly hair to come to an understanding with you, and with the way time was looking, you were in for an argument once Bakugou arrived downstairs.

He had informed you that he and his driver were going to pick you up so you could arrive together to remove any suspicion from the villains, and you honestly thought it was just an excuse for him to make sure you looked good enough for him.

After finally fixing the eyelash that was threatening to come off, you made sure you were set before reaching for the dress you had been dying to wear. It was an expensive piece, one gifted to you by a close friend that you had never come around to wearing.

It was a tight fitted, spaghetti strap, satin dress. It was a dark vermillion red with a runched up top that tighten against your breasts to lift them up.

It also had a beautiful simple back, only being connected by strings weaving in from side to side as if it were shoelaces. It went past your feet, dragging on the floor in an elegant way, and also had a slit running up landing precisely on your upper thigh.

It was beautiful, and even though it was probably going to be ruined somehow, it was something you were excited to wear.

You slipped on the garter first, a simple black material that tightened against the skin above the slit on your thigh. You shoved a covered knife in it, making sure to prepare for the worst of course.

Finally slipping the dress on, you realized you had absolutely no time to tie the strings in the back as you heard an obnoxious honking from outside your apartment complex, paired with your phone buzzing unbearably.

Without even answering it, you shoved your phone in between your breasts, and grabbed your small, black handbag that had some extra lipgloss, your wallet, and your will to leave since you know you might lose it tonight by spending it with your boss.

The ringing continued as you rolled your eyes and made sure your black strap heels were tight enough before spraying on some extra perfume and running out the door.

Your dress clung to your hand as you used your other to push through doors and scrunch your hair up. It wasn't long before you were finally outside, the honking ceasing as you finally reached the extremely long limousine. You had no time to gawk though, because soon enough the driver, Kari, opened the door for you.

“Apologizes on behalf of Mr. Bakugo, Mrs. [Y/L/N]. He will be meeting us at the location to ensure the safety of both of you." His voice rang through your ears as you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the man.

You got in the car with a smile, having it quickly drop as you furrowed your eyebrows and tried your hardest not to bite your lips. You weren't sitting in front of your small mirror for nothing. As the car drove off, you watched your apartment complex disappear and leaned back against the seat.

Made me rush my ass through my make-up just to not show up? What an asshole, you huffed in your seat, taking your phone out from your chest and glancing out the window some more.

✰

back to masterlist | next part

[the-princess-with-pancakes]

Weekly TV Shows: Week 05/20 (01)

I thought about it and planed this a lot of times. But now, finally, I feel, that I have more will power to write and watch more. This makes it a good opportunity, to talk weekly, about the newest episodes of some tv shows, that I'll be watching week by week. As always, I'm lazy and I don't promise, that it will be regularly, but I promise, that I will try.

Only one problem tho, I'm behind in a lot of popular tv shows (like Vikings (2013-), Riverdale (2017-), Doctor Who (2005) or any other, that you can imagine), so for now, please don't expect much from me. I'm gonna watch them someday, maybe.

I almost forgot to say this, but I'm gonna talk about these episodes with *SPOILERS*. You've been warned.

Miracle Workers: Dark Ages (s02e01)

It's... weird. I mean, it took me a little by surprise, because I didn't expect this show to be an anthology. If I remember correctly, this was supposed to be a miniseries. I guess the numbers were bigger than we thought and that's fine. I'm ready for it. Hopefully.

The cast returned. That's a big plus (yeah, I didn't even watch the trailer, so don't expect me, to know anything about any of this). There are some very talented people on board. It doesn't make the show goodo it's own and it didn't make the first season very good, but I'll gladly watch, what will come of it. As important, as it was in the first season, is the humor. And it's mostly on the same level, as the first season. A little too quirky for me tho, as it was in the first season because I'm more of a "Friends" humor kind of a guy. I guess the story looks a little more promising than in the first season. Yes, there will be a lot compering to the first season. I mostly like just too characters, Alexandra and The King (hey, Peter, what are you doing here?) because these two aren't made into complete idiots. Yeah, okay, maybe Maggie too. That's the problem with the series tho. It makes some characters into idiots, witch just isn't that fun to watch, as it could be, because this story has a lot of potential, or it could have if they had a better writer. I don't know. I'm gonna still watch it, because I'm curious, what's gonna happen next. Please don't disappoint me. I had to add this, Peter Serafinowicz, you badass, keep up the good work.

The Good Place (s04e13)

Wow. This is probably the best ending there could be. I never thought that this show was a great show, for me it was always good, not much above average and probably that's why this ending took me off guard. The humor was good, but it's the characters, that I stood with. I like them, a lot after these four seasons and I got used to them being around. As is with most of the tv series, running longer than one season, but these are fun and compelling characters. That's why this ending hit the most. because most of them "died" and all of them had a beautiful ending, that they deserved. I know it because Jason was my least favorite (I still liked him, but not a lot) character of the original six and his ending (the first one) was, in my opinion, the best one. Of course, the second wasn't supposed to be there, it ruined it for me a little. But still, when Jason sat on the bench, a small tear dripped from my eyes. Also, I don't know how he (Michael Schur) did it, but he managed to put in here a cameo of every important character in this show, so hats off.  I won't go through every ending, cause there are five of them and still, every one of them is beautiful and filled with so much respect for the show, characters, and fans. Just great. When Chidi told Eleanor, that he was ready for a long time, but he stayed, that was it. It was 1 am and I was crying in my bad. This episode was such a tearjerker but in a good way. And don't know, what more there is to say here, you all saw that. Michael Schur, thank you for a fun show, great characters (especially Eleanor, I like when Kristen Bell has a job), and a wonderful ending. I couldn't imagen anything better.

Saturday Night Live: JJ Watt / Luke Combs (s45e12)

I just started to watch SNL last week, because of Adam Driver. And I'm no expert, but I think this one was just okay. I didn't know the Host, nor the music guest. The beginning wasn't as good as the beginning of last weeks episode, but it was fun, I enjoyed some of his jokes. The sketches were average as always I guess. Although the MADDEN sketch was my favorite, I always like, when someone is making fun of EA and even more if it's funny. Last week I discovered Halsey and the first song she performed got on my Spotify favorite list. As for Luke Combs, his songs aren't my climate, but I like his voice, he has a great voice. But, at least Halsey took part in some of the sketches and Luke didn't (as far as I know), but he could. He looks like a guy, that likes to have fun. So this episode was just okay.

That's it for this week sadly. I'm not watching anything big right now, as I said at the beginning of the post. So for more meat we have to wait for Rick and Morty (2013-) s04 part 2, or American Gods (2017-) s03, or Hunters (2020), it looks fun.

I was supposed to post it yesterday, but I was too lazy to watch the finale of The Good Place (2016-2020) a day earlier, so... sorry?

See you next week, If there'll anything interesting to write about.

[hobi-wan-kenobii]

Please Don't Remember Me

Ahh, @april-rainmay-blossom I'm so sorry this was absolute trash and so late. I had so many different ideas for this but couldn't decide on one so it became sort of sci-fi lmao sorry. I didn't have my normal writing device towards the end, so apologies if it gets super duper rushed at the end. My tablet isn't in the best of shapes to be writing (not without me raging about how bad it is)

Anyways, enjoy, hopefully, and happy belayed White Day!

"Nijimura-san, I am Kuroko Tetsuya. It will be a pleasure to work with you."

Nijimura stares somewhat awkwardly at the kid bowing perfectly in front of him. Kuroko stays bent for three counts, like his mother told him to, before straightening up again. He stands stone still, only fidgeting with a bracelet around his wrist.

A man standing next to Nijimura-- tall, green hair, black glasses, and a name tag that reads Midorima-- leans down to mutter something before Nijimura turns to Kuroko. "It'll be nice to have someone like you here," Midorima growls something again, "you know what you're here for, right?"

Kuroko nods. His boss had mentioned that, but briefly. "I'm here to help study your lab creations."

"Everyone else just calls them mutants, but yeah, to some extent," Nijimura smiles. "We've asked to you come study a certain mutant." Kuroko sees the man's eyes flicker to the clipboard in his hands, then to the coat that reads 'Seirin Laboratories.' It is an intimidating name, after all, and he can't help but to be a bit proud.

Midorima reaches in the red colored folder and hands a paper to Nijimura. Kuroko thinks he looks a bit odd with the giant pink sombrero, but he would be more startled if he hadn't met Midorima before.

"This is his case file. His name is currently just Mutant 4, but we're hoping you'll be able to find a suitable name for him." Nijimura pushes the paper to Kuroko. Kuroko takes it and flips it back and forth before looking to his temporary co-workers. Nijimura pulls on an awkward smile while Midorima huffs and looks away.

They almost jump when Kuroko passes the paper back to them. "Creation Number 4," he says, refusing to call them just mutants, "is not an animal. I will find him a name, if you tell me what my aspiration here is." In a nearby cage, a dog yips. It only takes a glance to tell what he is a mix of. Golden retriever, poodle. The lab puppy, Ryota.

Nijimura seems a bit hesitant at that, but Midorima cuts in the moment he begins to speak. "Your job is to befriend Number 4, a task not even Nijimura could complete, nanodayo."

Kuroko's eyes widen. If Nijimura couldn't befriend this creature, then his work was certainly cut out for him. Nijimura was known as the father to all these creatures, and if Number 4 didn't respect him... It was almost exciting. Kuroko hadn't faced a challenge like this since university.

"We would also like reports on how developed Number 4's human characteristics are. He is part human, but we don't know what part human he got," Nijimura continues.

Kuroko cocks his head. "What's the rest of him?"

Nijimura sticks out his lip before answering. "Fish. Specifically, lionfish and shark."

"So not only have you made the mythical mermaid a reality, but you have also made this mermaid extremely dangerous and theoretically unstable?"

"... Yeah."

"In the past ten years, Number 4 has neither showed any signs of communication or will to communicate. Nijimura has raised him, and assumes that Number 4's grown to his full size. This means that Number 4 ages twice as fast as normal humans, so therefore is the equivalent to a 20 year-old intellectually."

Kuroko scribbles on his clipboard as Midorima leads him to Number 4's containment tank. Midorima spills facts about the subject left and right, fast enough that Kuroko's wrist is cramping up. "Nijimura thinks Number 4 will continue to age normally. But he has no proof, as Number 4 still refuses any contact through anything but feeding. We aren't even sure if the spines on his tail are poisonous, or if he is capable of communication of moving his tail."

"Midorima, you'll overload the poor kid. Just let him do his thing now, we're here anyways."

Midorima frowns and turns to Kuroko. He gestures at the door in front of them. "This is the room containing Number 4's tank as well as Number 4. You'll be under tight supervision in this room night and day, to ensure your survival."

To survive? Maybe this really would be more than Kuroko expected.

"Go on in. We'll be with you, but just for today," Nijimura assures, walking in first. Midorima waits for Kuroko, then follows. When they get in, Kuroko's stunned.

Number 4 lays on the bottom of a see-through tank. The tank is rather large, enough for Number 4 to swim in, but he doesn't seem to be utilizing that space. He just rests at the bottom, but it gives Kuroko a good view of him. His upper half is obviously human, with shocking red hair and handsome features as well as gills on his necks. His lower half, however, is entirely fish. It's long and curled around over his head, red as his hair all the way to the tail fin. The tail itself was distinctly shark. It was covered in red and black spines, some even tipped white. The white tips are most likely his poison.

The human parts of him seem oddly familiar.

Nijimura leads him to stand on the other side of the glass from Number 4, direction front of him. Kuroko squats down to get eye level with the creation as Nijimura pats his head and walks to the other side of the room.

Number 4's tail twitches, and his ears, not human but webbed like a bat's wing, spread from beneath his hair and he peeks one ruby red eye open. When he sees Kuroko, his eyes widen, and he seems surprised almost. He's more lively than the others have said. Kuroko glances at the others, but they seem as surprised as him. Number 4 really had never moved but to eat, then.

Kuroko scoots to tap his finger on the glass, waiting for a response. Number 4 hid his ears in his hair again. That was progress already, he reacts to sounds. This much energy, despite having never moved, apparently. He almost doubts their words.

"Nijimura-san, this is Number 4, right?"

Nijimura shrugs, looking confused. "It is, but I'm not entirely convinced he's been replaced with something else. He never moves for us."

Kuroko watches Number 4 as Nijimura speaks. Oddly enough, Number 4 stops moving, and only frowns. What was the difference that made anyone but him so unlikable?

He kneels down to Number 4. He puts his hand on the glass, and Number 4 watches it skeptically. "Challenge accepted, Number 4."

Number 4 flicks his tail and puts his head back on the bottom of the tank, falling asleep again.

Weeks pass without much progress.

Kuroko sits at the top of the tank, shorts pulled up to his thighs as he dangles his legs in the water. Number 4 watches from the bottom still. Kuroko drums his fingers against his leg in thought. He wants to pick the perfect name for Number 4. Giving him a name will hopefully create a sense of importance, if he was in fact human in the brain.

"If you can't make progress, then no one can."

"He's stubborn is all."

"That makes us similar. I'm stubborn, you're stubborn. I hope we get along."

As always, Number 4 doesn't respond with much more than a small movement.

"What should we call you?" Kuroko pulls his legs out of the water and drops them back in. Number 4 moves farther away. Still, Kuroko can feel his eyes on him. It should be frightening, he doesn't know what Number 4 can do with those poison spikes, but it isn't. He feels calm, somehow.

Number 4's eyes are odd. They're strangely cat-like, lidded and lazy with thin pupils. He has heterochromia, one eye the ruby red Kuroko had first seen, and the other a glowing amber. He's curious as to why this is. Then again, he's curious about almost everything when it comes to this creation.

Kuroko taps the side of the tank. It's one of the only things he can do to spark a reaction without standing to the left side of Number 4. Number 4's tail swishes and his spines fan out. At least it's a reaction. Nijimura can't even get him to open his eyes.

"Would you attack me if I dove down there?" Kuroko ponders, and Number 4 slaps his tail against the bottom of the tank. The tail fin was shark, but it was faced differently than a shark's. More like a dolphin's. Perhaps they added a few other species, to fill some inconsistencies between sharks, lionfish, and humans. It would make the most sense.

They continue like this for several hours every day. Kuroko talking to Number 4 and Number 4 only slightly responding. Every day seems almost boring, but it's Number 4 who changes that.

Kuroko's comfortable enough to swim in the tank with the creation, and Number 4 seems fine with that, staying still at the bottom. He'll float on the surface, feeling Number 4's movements in the gentle ripples of the water. It's better than sitting and waiting for something to happen. He's floating and waiting for something to happen.

He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. The water goes still as he runs through names in his mind. He still hasn't found a suitable name for Number 4. He's just Number 4.

With a sharp breath out, Kuroko sinks under the water. Nijimura assures him the water is clean, as it's nearly crystal clear, and safe to be in. He opens his eyes under the water and kicks his feet to go down deeper. He can feel Number 4's gaze on his back, calculating and inspecting. Number 4 is highly intelligent, no doubt. With some of the smartest creatures in him, his instinct is more developed than a normal human's. More developed than any normal, non-artificial creature.

Kuroko closes his eyes, and suddenly a name springs to his mind. He feels the water shift, and almost swallows water when he finds himself face-to-face with Number 4.

His eyes are even more dangerous this close. Not only that, but he looks even more familiar now. Spines outstretched behind him, Kuroko wonders if he's going to be killed. He closes his fist, trying not to gasp. He was given a small air tank for emergencies, but it's so small that it can be wrapper around his forearm. He puts the mask on anyways, and lets Number 4 swim around him.

Number 4's tail wraps around his arms before it falls away, and Kuroko is sure of this creation's name now. He's so painstakingly familiar that he can't help but use that name.

Seijuro.

Seijuro spins around him in the water, eyes on Kuroko the entire time, who was still paralyzed from shock. He had managed communication with someone even the most skilled doctors couldn't.

Kuroko reaches out his hand blindly, and feels Seijuro's fingers wrap around his own reluctantly. Seijuro's face shows no trade of hesitance, however. Instead, he stares defiantly at Kuroko.

Kuroko makes a mental note, Seijuro is far more human than he thought.

Seijuro's ears twitch and he brings Kuroko's hand to his chest. He is much more complex than Nijimura had assumed. Than any of them had assumed, actually. The question was, what was the difference between Kuroko and everyone else?

"You," Seijuro says, and somehow Kuroko can hear him perfectly through the water. "Remember." Although his voice is slightly hoarse from neglect, Kuroko has already drawn a few personal conclusions from it. First of all, Seijuro has a nice voice, and second of all...

Seijuro has someone's memories, a brain that isn't his.

Just how much work did Nijimura-san put into creating you, only to have you present yourself as a failed subject?

The grip around his hand tightens, and Kuroko can feel his breath slowly slipping away. "Kur.. o... ko... Tetsu... ya..." Seijuro smiles when he finishes the words, as if him saying that was something to be proud of. Perhaps it was.

Black spots dance in Kuroko's vision, and Seijuro lets go of his hand. Frantically, Kuroko resurfaces. He wades over to the edge of the tank and hoists himself on the side. When he looks over his shoulder, he's almost disappointed to see Seijuro back at the bottom again. But there are more important matters at hand. He needs to tell Nijimura.

He climbs out to reach for the mic, but stops just before he touches it. Does he have to tell him? Nijimura thinks of Seijuro as just another test subject, not a human being. Once Nijimura discovers what Seijuro's capable of, who's to say he won't toss away the original for a better copy? Kuroko pulls away his hand, he can't do that to him, he just can't.

He leaves the mic, and rests against the wall.

What do I do, he thinks exasperatedly.

At the bottom of the tank, Seijuro slaps his tail down and huffs. He's upset. Bubbles rise to the surface.

Kuroko doesn't tell Nijimura, nor Midorima or anyone else in this facility. The people who were meant to watch over him on security have long since abandoned their posts in belief nothing would happen. So no one knows except Kuroko and Seijuro. No one will know. He doesn't want them to. Seijuro doesn't either.

Kuroko continues diving into the tank from then on. Usually, Seijuro doesn't join him, but when he does, Kuroko finds himself smiling much more than he should be. Seijuro likes to hold onto him, hand, arm, just something to be touching him. Kuroko doesn't mind it. Sometimes Seijuro will come up to the surface with him, just to hear him talk. Although he doesn't do much of that himself. He seems to get distracted too much to speak.

"Nijimura! It worked! He's responding!"

He opens his eyes, for the first time ever. The light above him is blinding, but not as much as the pain in his chest. He gasps for air, his mouth run dry. The room around him suddenly becomes busy, the faint sound of people yelling and bustling around.

While the rest of the room goes up in disaster, he looks down. Wires, tubes, all hooked up to him as if he was the unfortunate fly caught up in their spiderweb. Clear fluid flowed through one, and dark red through another two. He feels more, farther down. He tries to move his legs, but they aren't there. When he looks down, his legs really aren't there.

A monstrosity of something is there instead, fused to where his legs used to be. A tail, whatever it is. He looks like those creatures in the story books, the ones your mother would show you in story books and then assure you they won't jump from under your bed at night. What's wrong with him? Why is he here?

The last thing he remembers is leaning up against a wall, happily chattering away with his boyfriend.

"I found a good movie to watch when you get here. The description itself is sad."

He smiles through the phone. "I can't wait, then. I've got the snacks."

"And I've got Nigou," Tetsuya responds cutely, while Nigou gives and affirming yap.

"Afterwards," he tries, "I would like try something. It isn't anything intimate, if that scares you."

Tetsuya laughs, the breathy giggle he does whenever he smiles. "Feel free. I'll look forward to it. Get back soon, I love you, Sei."

Seijuro starts walking. Tetsuya hadn't even been able to say that a month ago, but now he can say it without worry. "I love you, too. See you soon."

He ends the call.

He thought he would make it to Tetsuya's house walking. Instead, his journey was halted by the haunting cry of screeching tires and someone yelling to watch out. He saw headlights, and thought of how sorry he was that their date couldn't happen.

When he wakes up, he's strapped to a table, stuck with tubes and half fish, possibly. He wants Tetsuya, but he doesn't think he'll be getting him anymore. Not if he keeps this tail and is stuck here, forever. Tetsuya will find someone who wasn't forced to become a monster, and live happily with them. At least he would be happy, though.

He learns that his captor's name is Nijimura, and Midorima is the grumpy one who waits around him a lot. They try to get him to move from the table, but he doesn't. Then he's transported to a tank, where they try and force him to move. He doesn't, because all he can think of is if Tetsuya is safe. He wants to see Tetsuya one last time, or even just text him. But he can't. His humanity has been robbed from him. He's a beast now, a creation.

One day, a familiar name rolls off Nijimura's tongue, and Seijuro feels his heart skip a beat. Tetsuya, Tetsuya, Tetsuya. He'll be able to see him again!

Tetsuya doesn't remember him. It's been almost ten years by now, and they're both into their late twenties, so who can really blame him? Not to mention, Seijuro had never been able to truly involve himself into Tetsuya's life. He had too much responsibility with the burden of his father's company, so he just didn't have the time to meet up. However, any time Seijuro had off would be spent with Tetsuya.

Now he was here, once an heir to the corporal throne now a failed lab experiment tossed into the garbage.

They were going to get rid of him soon, anyways. He had acted faultily, so they had decided to "dispose of him." He wasn't too appalled by that until he heard that sweet name again.

But then time passes, and Tetsuya seems wary of him. He didn't show any signs of recognition, nor friendliness. It was obvious by now. Seijuro was just another experiment to him.

Seijuro wonders if he had moved on, and who he was with now, if anyone. Seijuro wonders what it would have been like to live with Tetsuya, to go through college together, to sleep next to each other evert night. Seijuro wonders what it would have felt like to bend down on one knee, and then kiss Tetsuya as he said his answer. It would be a yes, of course.

None of that can happen anymore. Not with Seijuro, at least.

He tries his best to get Tetsuya to remember him, though.

His heart skips when Tetsuya dives down beside him, glad that he kept this part of being human. He couldn't imagine living without knowing Tetsuya. It was impossible, for him.

"Seijuro-kun," that's what Tetsuya calls him now, "how was your night?" Tetsuya is as kind as he ever was, with the same kind glimmer behind his eyes that he showed only to his best friends. Maybe it was a mistake to show a monster like him.

Seijuro drops beneath the surface, hiding his nose underwater at Tetsuya's feet. He remembers that Tetsuya's feet are ticklish, and as expected, he giggles when the bubbles hit his feet. Seijuro restrains a smile. He hasn't been this happy since he was taken.

Was he ever filed as a missing person?

"I'll take that as it went well, then." Truthfully, it hadn't. It was another night with that one man, Haizaki, who showed no mercy in his bite nor in his bark. Seijuro despised Haizaki, as well as everyone else here except Tetsuya.

Tetsuya leans forward to slip into the water, and Seijuro moves back to let him. Tetsuya smiles at him, and Seijuro sees the exhaustion in his eyes. He wants to hug him, to kiss away his fears and wipe away his insecurities. But he can't, and he curses the world for that.

"The water's rather cold," he says. Seijuro would cuddle him and kiss his cheeks, but now he just stares as Tetsuya. He can't do anything else. "Don't you think?"

Seijuro nods. He doesn't trust his voice anymore. Its the same voice he once called Tetsuya's name from, but it feels foreign now. It's no longer his voice, it is the voice of who he used to be. Abominations don't deserve a voice.

Tetsuya moves to put his hand on Seijuro's shoulder. Seijuro's tail keeps both of them above water, but his restraint is crumbling at their proximity. He thinks for just a second that maybe Tetsuya does remember him. He doesn't like lying.

"Want to swim around with me?" Tetsuya asks, moving to hold on entirely to his arm. Seijuro lets him hook up his air tank before diving underwater.

He likes the way Tetsuya's hair floats around him under the water. Much like his bedhead, it sticks up every direction in the most adorable way. He has this sort of childish happiness when he swims with him.

The way his hands slip down to clasp his fingers seems too familiar.

He's just as happy above water, into Seijuro finally breaks.

"Tetsuya, do you remember?"

"I remember a lot of things, Seijuro-kun. What are you talking about," he doesn't seem shocked that Seijuro can speak clearly now. His mission to help Seijuro act human has become a mission to get to know him better.

Seijuro tightens his hold on Tetsuya's hand, and brings his free hand up to hold his former lover's hand.

"Did you miss me... Love?" Tetsuya's eyes widen and he freezes. Seijuro knows he remembers now.

Tetsuya brings himself closer to Seijuro, but Seijuro can't find it in him to reach out and touch his face like he used to. "Sei...?"

Seijuro nods.

"... How? You died." Tears well up in Tetsuya's eyes, and he brings himself to Seijuro.

"I don't know either." Tetsuya begins sobbing, and Seijuro isn't too far from that either. He isn't sure what Tetsuya's tears are from. Happiness or fear.

"You were dead!" Kuroko cries, "I've been looking for you forever, you never made it to my house that night and your body was never found!"

Seijuro feels tears run down his cheeks. He's ecstatic, Tetsuya's here and well. He feels the ugly spines around his waist open and retract.

"Then they lied to me. You were never a creation. You didn't have a choice in this. They never raised you from an egg, you were taken from the streets and mutated."

Tetsuya chokes into his chest and gasps for air. "I'm so sorry, Sei. I'm sorry this had to happen."

"It's alright. Did you ever move on?"

"No. It was only ever you."

"I'm glad. Sorry, though."

"It's alright. We can still live like this."

Seijuro pulls away. Tetsuya's cheeks are stained with tears. He opens his mouth, but doesn't get to say anything as lips seal away his words.

They're as soft as he remembers, not to mention he still tastes like that strawberry chapstick he always used. He almost gets lost in the feeling, but he stops himself. He can't.

"Tetsuya...?"

Tetsuya looks at him with determination. "I want to grow old with you, Sei. I'll do anything to get you away from here."

"Let's do that then."